While I'm aware there's a good number of folk who despise the music of Gian Carlo Menotti, I'm going ahead with this post anyway.
I recently re-watched the old telecast of The Saint of Bleeker Street from New York City Opera and found myself in a puddle of tears not only at the end, but at several other moments throughout. A well regarded critic - who's also close friend, once told me it was "too manipulative." I thought about that for a moment: too manipulative? Okay . . . perhaps, but cannot the same charge be leveled of not only many other operas, but of art and music generally? The story is not presented as a series of unbiased facts but rather something told by a storyteller who invites us (and yes, manipulates) us into trying to see the tale as he or she does. I believe a willingness to be manipulated is part of the agreement we make whenever we enter an opera house, theatre . . . or even a museum.
Menotti's so-called "simple story" is, in truth, no such thing; From the beginning its layers peel back like the proberbial onion, each one revealing more and more.
We are confronted with myiad components; it is at once a tale of fanaticism, the quest and questions for a spiritual journey, the interactions of a displaced community, the story of an abiding friendship, misunderstanding, loyalty, jealousy, murder, poverty, and . . . ultimately, hope. All of this hits us full force, without apologies, without excuses and yet, by the end, Menotti has left us even more room for thought as its many questions are left unresolved to all, except for Annina - the Saint herself, who, of course, cannot tell us.
I find Menotti's score to be the most beautiful of h is operas, and will go so far as to say, that musically it's one of the finest of all of the mid-20th century operas, Even so, it gets frequently dismissed as "warmed over Puccini," though nothing could be further from the truth. As with most composers, there are noticeable influences throughout, and I'd go so far to say that Menotti puts as much Alban Berg and Mussorgsky into his score as Puccini. Ultimately, however, he speaks here in a voice that, is distinguished and very much his own. We hear that turgid - angular chugging found in most of his scores for strings and winds that propel the story forward, He understands - and relishes - the relationship between dissonance and consonance and yes, when needed, is ever unafraid to tug at our heartstrings for those who, like myself, welcome having them so tugged. It is obvious he is writing from love and passion as well as skill.
His writing for strings rivals, and shares similarities here with Sibelius and Tchaikovsky. The tension of the string movements in the opening recalling a certain, more celebrated work by his friend, Mr. Barber. While giving us much to ponder, the long-phrased melodies for both orchestra and singers, can go directly to the heart - which is what I often want from an opera composer - and cause me both to think and feel . . . . simultaneously. Music allows us the unique ability to overpower more than one sense at a time, as happens with the gentle intermezzo before the final scene.
The writing for chorus in this opera is majestic and powerful. Ingeniously, Menotti's libretto never places this cathedral-like music in a vaulted church setting, but rather in a cold water flat, adding yet another dimension of thought . . . another layer of palpable emotion. I often think of Boris Godunov or even Porgy and Bess at times.
Saint is also packed with some marvelous arias, beginning with Annina's Stigmata aria. Brother Michele's I know that you all hate me has become one of those Menotti arias that finds its way into auditions and recitals for young tenors. Desideria's big scene raises the dramatic stakes to a boiling point. There is Don Marco's short aria with its postlude that becomes an intermezzo between the two halves of Act 1, and so many other ensembles.
The scenes of loyalty and friendship, between Annina and Carmela go straight to the heart. Manipulated that way? Yeah . . . and beautifully.
I know all the reasons it is not, yet personally still find it difficult to comprehend why this opera is so seldom performed.
I find Menotti's score to be the most beautiful of h is operas, and will go so far as to say, that musically it's one of the finest of all of the mid-20th century operas, Even so, it gets frequently dismissed as "warmed over Puccini," though nothing could be further from the truth. As with most composers, there are noticeable influences throughout, and I'd go so far to say that Menotti puts as much Alban Berg and Mussorgsky into his score as Puccini. Ultimately, however, he speaks here in a voice that, is distinguished and very much his own. We hear that turgid - angular chugging found in most of his scores for strings and winds that propel the story forward, He understands - and relishes - the relationship between dissonance and consonance and yes, when needed, is ever unafraid to tug at our heartstrings for those who, like myself, welcome having them so tugged. It is obvious he is writing from love and passion as well as skill.
His writing for strings rivals, and shares similarities here with Sibelius and Tchaikovsky. The tension of the string movements in the opening recalling a certain, more celebrated work by his friend, Mr. Barber. While giving us much to ponder, the long-phrased melodies for both orchestra and singers, can go directly to the heart - which is what I often want from an opera composer - and cause me both to think and feel . . . . simultaneously. Music allows us the unique ability to overpower more than one sense at a time, as happens with the gentle intermezzo before the final scene.
The writing for chorus in this opera is majestic and powerful. Ingeniously, Menotti's libretto never places this cathedral-like music in a vaulted church setting, but rather in a cold water flat, adding yet another dimension of thought . . . another layer of palpable emotion. I often think of Boris Godunov or even Porgy and Bess at times.
Saint is also packed with some marvelous arias, beginning with Annina's Stigmata aria. Brother Michele's I know that you all hate me has become one of those Menotti arias that finds its way into auditions and recitals for young tenors. Desideria's big scene raises the dramatic stakes to a boiling point. There is Don Marco's short aria with its postlude that becomes an intermezzo between the two halves of Act 1, and so many other ensembles.
The scenes of loyalty and friendship, between Annina and Carmela go straight to the heart. Manipulated that way? Yeah . . . and beautifully.
I know all the reasons it is not, yet personally still find it difficult to comprehend why this opera is so seldom performed.
How fortunate I was to attend several performances at Washington Opera back in the 80's, in a stunning performance directed by the composer himself, a production mounted in honor of his 80th birthday. Remarkable.
City Opera was fortunate to have Catherine Malfitano and Diana Soviero, as Annina and Carmela; each giving a performance nothing short of amazing. Malfitano, while a bit strained at some moments handles the music skillfully and theatrically . . . well, she is devastating. Soviero, in what can be perceived as a secondary role, turns it into a virtual tour-de-force; caressing each note with tenderness and emotion. As Annina's protective best friend, Soviero seems the one person who best understands Annina's desires. Even when wordless, kneeling beside her friend's chair - Soviero's face radiates an ecstasy that transcends words, mirroring the mystical Annina's faith as she embraces, and welcomes death. We watch her, cradling with love, her friend's lifeless body, suppressing her sobs as she lifts Annina's arm to accept the ring of faith. At this moment, Carmela's situation is more heartbreaking than her friend's death because we identify immediately with her grief. This is great opera. This is great theatre.
So, after this performance, then what? More Menotti. After drying my eyes, I put on the Piano Concerto in a sparkling, scintillating performance by Earl Wilde. The Concerto belongs alongside Prokofiev, Barber and Poulenc in wonderful 20th century concerti. With its Scarlatti and Bach like polyphony, it requires both bravura and charm, and would offer a nimble fingered pianist - something unusual and rarely played. And yet, like his operas, the Concerto gets very little recognition. Lord knows, I'd prefer hearing it once in a while as an alternative to yet another performance of Brahms or Rachmaninoff.
While I also have enormous respect for . . . and a similar reaction to The Consul, it is easy for me to say that of all Menotti's operas, I find The Saint of Bleecker Street the most deserving of being brought back and could imagine a terrific production somewhere in Lincoln Center. Even though it was conceived for The Broadway Theatre (where it ran for 92 performances), it's a grand work and deserving of the first rate treatment . . . and an HD performance. I already have a cast in mind! So let's do it!
City Opera was fortunate to have Catherine Malfitano and Diana Soviero, as Annina and Carmela; each giving a performance nothing short of amazing. Malfitano, while a bit strained at some moments handles the music skillfully and theatrically . . . well, she is devastating. Soviero, in what can be perceived as a secondary role, turns it into a virtual tour-de-force; caressing each note with tenderness and emotion. As Annina's protective best friend, Soviero seems the one person who best understands Annina's desires. Even when wordless, kneeling beside her friend's chair - Soviero's face radiates an ecstasy that transcends words, mirroring the mystical Annina's faith as she embraces, and welcomes death. We watch her, cradling with love, her friend's lifeless body, suppressing her sobs as she lifts Annina's arm to accept the ring of faith. At this moment, Carmela's situation is more heartbreaking than her friend's death because we identify immediately with her grief. This is great opera. This is great theatre.
So, after this performance, then what? More Menotti. After drying my eyes, I put on the Piano Concerto in a sparkling, scintillating performance by Earl Wilde. The Concerto belongs alongside Prokofiev, Barber and Poulenc in wonderful 20th century concerti. With its Scarlatti and Bach like polyphony, it requires both bravura and charm, and would offer a nimble fingered pianist - something unusual and rarely played. And yet, like his operas, the Concerto gets very little recognition. Lord knows, I'd prefer hearing it once in a while as an alternative to yet another performance of Brahms or Rachmaninoff.
While I also have enormous respect for . . . and a similar reaction to The Consul, it is easy for me to say that of all Menotti's operas, I find The Saint of Bleecker Street the most deserving of being brought back and could imagine a terrific production somewhere in Lincoln Center. Even though it was conceived for The Broadway Theatre (where it ran for 92 performances), it's a grand work and deserving of the first rate treatment . . . and an HD performance. I already have a cast in mind! So let's do it!
I finally managed to track down the original recording of The Saint a couple of years ago on Amazon used. It was my first hearing of the opera and I was hugely excited by it. I agree that it's a major score and should be revived, but I doubt the MET would do it. NYCO, now returning to its point of origin at City Center, might be the company to do it.
ReplyDeleteAs to the recording, David Poleri and Gloria Lane are incendiary -- superb, totally committed performances. I wasn't too happy with Gabrielle Roggiero's Annina, finding her too hysterical and melodramatic in the wrong way, but the rest of the cast is wonderful and includes the young John Reardon Elisabeth Carron and Richard Cassilly, all conducted by Thomas Schippers who certainly was in a position to know Menotti's intentions for the score. The Saint should be done at least as often as The Medium and the Consul.
Hi Bill. When I was pretty young and first heard this recording I though Roggiero a bit "much" myself at first, but she won me over and still, it's her voice I hear whenever I hear Annina's music.
ReplyDeleteI'll never forget those Washington Opera performances directed by Menotti himself in a production that was almost the very essence of "realism" in theatre. My reason for thinking of The Met for producing it, is sadly) NYCO wouldn't get the press/publicity and the Met needs some more American works in its canon and I can think of no work more deserving of a wider audience than Menotti's Saint. I think audiences in the house, and in the HD cinema context would have their collective socks knocked off! Cheers!
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