On Singers and Size

I recently had a conversation with a friend on the appearance of opera singers, a conversation prompted by the idiotic remark of a currently popular singer who stated today's singers must be "beautiful and thin, and very fit . . ." Sorry, but I’m calling “bullshit."

Opera is art . . . storytelling on the grandest of scales and has precious little to do with reality. Weight has nothing to do with artistry nor one's ability to relate a story. Regardless of race, weight, body size, a good storyteller must do one thing: conjure a world of intrigue and fantasy that can draw an audience into believing his or her story. Most of us (I hope) have experienced one-man-shows where, with neither set nor costume, someone has pulled us in, and engaged us in a way where what surrounds us is altered completely until the lights come back up and we realize we've been on a remarkable journey. Those uncomfortable with body size that isn't (in their estimation) perfect simply lack imagination or any ability to accept the fact that people come in all sizes, shapes and colors. Over the years I've found it interesting that it isn’t necessarily younger audiences who have a difficult accepting opera-sized opera singers. If one has a problem with fat singers, don't go. It's really that simple. Conversely, I've seen far too many "sexy" singers who are lousy storytellers and who couldn't act their way out of the proverbial paper bag.

In 2010 attending the first Met HD “Aida” our local cineplex sold out several theatres. The one I watched in was filled mostly with Bowdoin college students fulfilling a class requirement, including a large segment of the football team. Violetta Urmana, Johan Botha, Dolora Zajick, and and Jennifer Check were among the plus-sized principals that day. None of the kids, most seeing their first opera, seemed to have any problem getting right into the story and cheering and responding to the goings-on of Verdi's tale taking place near and on the Nile. I was seated next to a couple of the football players and, as the intensity of Amneris’ Judgment Scene began, the one next to me leaned into his buddy and whispered, "Ah, this is my favorite part . . . where the Pharaoh chick loses her shit!” My heart exploded.

Yes, it’s nice to have beautiful gifted singers who can also act, but what’s most important to this opera lover are smart singers, a director both aware and sympathetic to his singers' needs and abilities, and a damned good conductor; the music and my imagination do all the rest of the work. I know, Weird, huh?

Met's Season Opener: Le Nozze fi Figaro

I found - at least as presented over the Sirius broadcast, last night to be a thoroughly enjoyable "Le Nozze di Figaro" with some special moments, one being getting to know the voice of Amanda Majeski, whose quick vibrato I found to have a lovely Pilar Lorengar-ish flutter which I found enormously attractive.

While I'm no HIP-ster, Levine led a "modern opera house orchestra" performance that was brimming with life and energy.

I've heard some complaints of its dragging, but I found Levine's tempi frequently to be on the brisk side, while certain things were prone toward a Levine-ian exaggeration (which I sometimes mind and sometimes don't).

Overall, he shaped the evening with remarkable elasticity that bore the obvious stamp of his love for this opera. This was noticeable in "Dove sono", but nowhere more so than the in the first part of the Act II finale, where Figaro begins (for me) one of Mozart's most beautiful melodies at "Mente il ceffo, iogià non mento."

Last night Abdrazakov's Figaro began this moment a bit more brusquely than most (a nice effect in this lovely melody), then immediately smoothed out by Susanna and Rosina's "Il talento aguzzi invano," - until all three implore the Count to give in. Here, Levine seemed to breathe Mozart with almost imperceptible shifts of rhythm and creating a magic that brought tears to my eyes at the sheer beauty of the sound.

Not that any of this matters, but under Levine this moment occurred approximately an hour and 27 minutes into the show. Comparing it to three other recordings/performances (Salzburg 2006; the '75 Ponnelle/Bohm film with Prey, Fischer-Dieskau, Freni, Te Kanawa
&Ewing; and the HIP recording of Le Petite Band led by Kuijken) and this moment occurred, 8 minutes earlier than Salzburg, about a minute earlier than Bohm, and almost 7 minutes AFTER Kuijken! (Yes, I'm that obsessive and do this sort of thing all the time.)

Some complained about Isabel Leonard's voice being too big or mature for the character of Cherubino, but I wasn't one of them. I found the robust but still youthful sound appropriately "masculine" for this trouser role.

Marlis Petersen was charming and delighted the ear as Susanna, never once exhibiting exhaustion in this long sing (some refer to Susanna as the Brunnhilde of lyric soprano roles).

As mentioned Ildar Abdrazakov had a rougher hue to his sound than I typically like in the character of Figaro, but the basso's charm worked in his favor in creating the character, though at the upper reaches he sounded strained and faint. Still, he put his stamp on the role and while it won't go down as my favorite Figaro, he was certainly an enjoyable one.

Peter Mattei's Count Almaviva consistently offered some of the evening's finest singing and his actorly way with text served to bring to life a Count that was deeper on most levels than many present in the role, and one who reminded me of his character a few years earlier in The Barber of Seville. Marvelous work.

On an entirely different front, I got a laugh-out-loud charge from Deborah Voigt's "diva bitch fest" intermission feature, with Fleming and Co. There was a lot of talk about Fleming's upcoming "Merry Widow," but the future Hannah veered the conversation to her performances of the Countess in Paris during a political uprising, and then segued into her trip to Israel during a dangerous period. Voigt interrupted to say something along the lines of, "that's all very nice, but I want to talk about The Merry Widow." During her interview with Anna Netrebko, the Russian went on talking about how she's performed Susanna over 150 times, causing Voigt to quip how Anna was too temperamental to play the Countess. Even over the airwaves you could sense the Russian diva's irritation, before responding, "I don't like the Countess, she doesn't interest me." Voigt recovered by asking about Anna's gown, sending Nebs into a description of how the gown had been specially made for her by Yanina, the famous Russian designer who lives in Paris etc. This was followed by Mary Jo Heath's interview of Anita Rachvellischvilli, who immediately informed us she'd sung Carmen over 150 times and how her gown was also made by a famous designer, but she hates people who name drop, and he didn't feel the need her to advertise for him. Snap.

Nozze seemed an unusual choice for a season opener, but for this guy, it worked nicely. I very much look forward to seeing this production.

Ever Onegin . . . Metropolitan Opera's New Eugene Onegin

I spent the early evening watching the Deborah Warner/Fiona Shaw production of Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin filmed at the Metropolitan Opera this past fall.

For the most part I enjoyed the production, though a few things I found unnecessarily challenging, and downright in the way of otherwise excellent story telling. First up was the lack of a bedroom for Tatyana's all night vigil and the opera's most famous scene. Another problem was the duel . . . I know I'm not the only person who found rifles instead of pistols just an overall bad idea.

Other than several other similarly odd choices. the production worked well, and the development of its characters and their dramatic choices/direction from the singers throughout was fascinating and frequently moving. Onegin made clear his desire not to kill his best friend, when Lensky extended his hand before the duel and Onegin grabbed and hugged him, only to be rebuffed and pushed away in order to get on with the business of death. In sinking to the ground and cradling his dead friend in his arms, we immediately sense that Onegin will be forever haunted by this unnecessary, preventable tragedy.

I'm not the greatest fan of Anna Netrebko, but Tatyana turns out to be an ideal role for her vocally and histrionically. She struck several nicely juvenile poses in her first meetings with Onegin. Nebs's Tatyana seemed a tad distant during her Name Day celebration but her development into the Princess Gremin nicely balanced a newfound maturity with a bit of the passionate girl still left in her.

Mariusz Kwiecien offered a terrifically nuanced and theatrically compelling Onegin. If not as plush or warm of voice as Hynninen, Allen, Hvorotsovsky and other great interpreters of Tchaikovsky's ennui-ridden antihero, his was a more complex and frequently more likable Eugene than we frequently get, adding to Tatyana's dilemmas both early on and at the end.

Piotr Beczala's Lensky was a bit too sunny of character making his jealous outrage and violent treatment of Olga in Act 2 seem like that of a man unhinged, a light in which I've never previously considered seeing Lensky in. Nonetheless his singing throughout, and in the duel scene particularly, was exemplary, nuanced, passionate and, ultimately, heartbreaking.

Oksana Volkova, Elena Zaremba, John Graham-Hall and most of all, Larissa Diadkova, sang well, each having invested their characters with the kind of "lived in" naturalness that aids immeasurably to the storytelling.

As Prince Gremin, Alexei Tanovitski produced some of the strangest singing I can recall; a throbbing sound with an oddly coiled vibrato, the tone itself was not entirely unpleasant, but the result was too odd for these ears not to notice.

I'm divided on the final kiss offered by Tatyana to the astonished Onegin before leaving him to crumple to the ground, hopeless, desolate . . . but no longer bored. I very much liked staging this scene outside in a nighttime winter landscape, the falling snow bestowing a chilly beauty to the almost overheated proceedings.

Valery Gergiev had things well in hand in what must have been his umpteenth performance of the Russian potboiler. Never once sounding routine Gergiev pulled out all the stops for those big, glorious Tchaikovskian climaxes which, even though coming through a home sound system, got my blood pumping just the way I always expect them to.

Netrebko as Anna: Can no one really touch her?

A lot of fuss is being made about Anna Netrebko's ability (or inability if you see it that way) to perform the title role in Donizetti's Anna Bolena. I've listened to the recordings and videos from the prima in Vienna and find her rather exciting, if not the last word (or even close) to real bel canto style.

Several friends have argued no one in the past - at least since Callas - can properly take on the role, and that "no one today" - or even in the last ten years can compete with Anna as Anna. I'd have to disagree.

Here is Carol Vaness, not a singer I (or anyone else) would typically associate with Donizetti, but here she is in an absolutely thrilling reading of "Coppia Iniqua":

www.youtube.com/watch?v=6oAokjH6uu8&feature=related

Two more Anna's who take the unwritten high note option at the end adding a degree of frisson to the proceedings:

First up, Mariella Devia who seems as if by the role possessed - wonderfully so:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1UfHMbPAqoA

And finally, a Netrebko contemporary, Elena Mosuc, who brings a Sills-like razzle dazzle to the role, and interpolates (wildly) some thrilling high notes and sends the crowd into a frenzy!

www.youtube.com/watch?v=Kc1JIHE2caw&feature=related

So, in my opinion the notion that no one can touch Nebs is a faulty one. She's exciting but hardly the last word in the role.