Two new concert reviews.

I was asked by Seen and Heard International to review two performances in quick succession: one featuring Zubin Mehta conducting the Symphony Orchestra of India and the second, Operalia 2024.

Here are the links to my reviews:

Maestro Zubin Mehta returns to his roots – Seen and Heard International (seenandheard-international.com)

Operalia 2024 in Mumbai: a mixed bag – Seen and Heard International (seenandheard-international.com)

Comments are welcome on the S&H website, below each review!

Shakespeare's Scottish tragedy...set to music.

This is the text of a lecture I had given at the NCPA some years ago, prior to a screening of Verdi's opera "Macbeth" based on Shakespeare's play.

FROM STAGE….TO STAGE

Shakespeare’s Scottish tragedy --- in the words of Norman, the title character in Ronald Harwood’s play “The Dresser”: “That is the unluckiest play in the world….that play would turn a good fairy wicked!”

Be that as it may, it certainly inspired Giuseppe Verdi to write some of his most impassioned music; making a decisive attempt to break from the musical strictures and conventions of opera in the mid-19^th Century, to the extent of giving the text paramount importance in many scenes; with the music becoming subservient to its needs.

The best example of this is Macbeth’s “dagger” soliloquy in the opera. It follows Shakespeare closely; and its music is lyrical yet declamatory, free-flowing WITH the text, instead of adapting the latter to any formal musical structure. Verdi’s markings and instructions are astonishingly detailed and descriptive here, purely “expressive” in nature, totally motivated by dramatic pulse and impulse. In fact, for the duet that follows with Lady Macbeth, Verdi insisted (and I quote) that this “definitely must not be sung” but “acted and declaimed with hollow, masked voices”. And as for Lady Macbeth herself, Verdi rejected the original choice of singer because she had (and again I quote) “a wonderful voice, clear, flexible and strong, while Lady Macbeth’s voice should be hard, stifled and dark. Madame Tadolini has the voice of an angel, and Lady Macbeth’s should be that of a devil.”

Surely this was unprecedented in the history of opera till then; and it goes to show how Verdi, in “Macbeth”, took the art of the lyric stage, a stage further.

Another example of this; and an extremely important one: in the play, after the murder of Duncan, Macbeth re-enters and speaks the line: “I have done the deed.” This we know to be the turning-point, the point of no return; and it is interesting to see how Verdi and his librettist Piave do not translate it literally (though they have pretty much stuck to Shakespeare’s words upto that point in the scene) --- they interpret “I have done the deed” as “Tutto e finito” which means “everything is finished” or “its all over” and has a far deeper, truer meaning in context.

A line of such immense significance is given an equally significant musical motif, ending with the rise and fall of a semitone on the word “finito”. It haunts the opera in various guises, just as the image of Duncan’s murder haunts the play. The motif sounds like a sigh, and is heard most clearly and chillingly on a wind instrument during Lady Macbeth’s sleepwalking scene, punctuating her demented utterances with an eerie wail.

And what has David Pountney, the director of the performance you are about to see, done with all this? He is a true “auteur”, investing each character, event and idea in “Macbeth” with an image that is unique and startling, forcing you to re-evaluate your previous impressions and see these entities afresh, often in a completely different, revelatory light. One such example is that of the letter in which Macbeth narrates the prophecies of the witches to his wife. This is what starts the ball rolling; its "image" is repeated in the second scene with the witches and, significantly, during the sleepwalking scene.

Yet, despite his very personal interpretation of the components, Pountney presents the spine of the play, its germ, with frightening lucidity --- unnatural events, when set into motion by man, have unnatural and dire consequences. And he conveys this in an interpretation that is very much in sync with Verdi’s music; and yet is very much of our time, loaded with symbolism familiar to a modern sensibility, thus taking Shakespeare’s, and Verdi’s, “Macbeth” another “stage” further.

So, William Shakespeare through Giuseppe Verdi through David Pountney to us, will be our topic of discussion after the screening. During which, the only sounds we need to hear are those of music, NOT mobiles. And since this will be a long evening, there will be a short intermission after Act 2, approximately 80 minutes from now.

Enjoy the film.

Thank you.

A Flawed Yet Promising Recital by Baritone Sergio Vitale

The much-awaited opera duo recital planned by the NCPA, featuring the soprano Rosa Feola and baritone Sergio Vitale, left many people disappointed because the soprano had taken ill.
Which was a pity because she seemed to be the better of the two, as one could surmise from clips on Youtube!
Anyway the guy managed to hold the evening together...though one wished the accompanist were better.


An edited version of the following review is printed on Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/08/a-flawed-yet-promising-recital-by-baritone-sergio-vitale/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).


Opera Recital – Sergio Vitale (baritone), Fabio Centanni (piano), Tata Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 8.8.2017. (JSM).
Mozart – Le Nozze di Figaro: Hai già vinta la causa
Bellini – I Puritani: Ah! per sempre io ti perdei
Rossini – Il barbiere di Siviglia: Largo al factotum
Liszt – Mephisto Waltz no:1
Donizetti – Don Pasquale: Bella siccome un angelo
Verdi – Falstaff: Ehi! Paggio!...L’onore! Ladri; Ehi! Taverniere! Mondo ladro
Tosti – ’A vuchhella

On account of a sudden deterioration in the health of soprano Rosa Feola, this concert, which was supposed to be an opera duo, became a solo recital by baritone Sergio Vitale accompanied by pianist Fabio Centanni.

Mr. Vitale’s programme ran the gamut of the baritone repertoire, from Figaro to Falstaff. “Work-in-progress” he announced modestly before one of the pieces; and this term could well be used to describe his singing as a whole.

The opening Mozart aria immediately conveyed his strengths and limitations: a full, rounded tone in the middle voice but strained at both extremes; genuine musicality compromised by imperfect execution of bel canto ornamentation and passage-work; an ability to communicate character and emotion when unencumbered by too much musical effort.

The aria from I Puritani fared better, as the baritone attempted sustaining a clean Bellinian line. However, his technical shortcomings were more exposed here, as later in the Donizetti, including a tendency to lunge at high notes from below (especially in upward-moving passages) and intonation that was somewhat suspect, often being just under true pitch.

Mr. Vitale lightened his tone (as he should) for Rossini’s Figaro, whose Largo al factotum was given with impish, infectious joie de vivre and a fine command of patter-singing. But the baritone cracked on the top G; and this highlighted his overall difficulty with high tessitura.

Fortunately, he came into his own as Verdi’s Falstaff, whose arias were a last-minute addition to the programme. From his first cry of Ehi! Paggio! it became evident that the singer was in his element and this role was a perfect fit, vocally and temperamentally. Falstaff’s Act 1 monologue was delivered with immense chutzpah and vivid word-painting; his Act 3 musing on the vagaries of the world was appropriately introspective.

The baritone ended the recital with the popular Neapolitan song ’A vuchhella. Here his innate musicality and good intentions, undermined by flawed vocalism, were all too apparent.

Fabio Centanni’s accompaniment was too loud, often drowning out the singer. It made one wonder why the piano was kept wide open and not on short-stick. His single solo, Liszt’s Mephisto Waltz no: 1, was clangy and fatiguing.

The concert was an interesting introduction to a young singer. If his Falstaff is anything to go by, and with some work on vocal technique, he has the potential of a richly promising career.

Return of the Royal

Bombay's old opera house has now been restored to its past glory.
It has played host to plays (including those staged by Prithviraj Kapoor's Prithvi Theatre) and later became a cinema house...famous for the long runs enjoyed by many of the movies screened there.
My mother's family lived in the building right behind the theatre; and she had told me how the Kapoors used to borrow flower-pots from them for the plays. Since she was pretty and an accomplished Indian classical dancer, they even offered her a role in their movie "Barsaat"! My grandfather said NO...and the role was eventually played by Nimmi.
As a child, when I visited my grandparents' home for dinner, I remember being able to hear bits of the late night movie-show; and saw a fair number of films in the Opera House. Although it was not air-conditioned, the theatre was still a great place for movies.


An edited version of the following article was published by Seen and Heard International here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/07/the-royal-opera-house-in-mumbai-is-restored-to-its-former-glory/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).

Inaugurated in 1911 by King George V, the Royal Opera House in Bombay (now called Mumbai) was the only one of its kind in this part of the world.

During the early part of the last century, it played host to performances of opera; and thereafter to plays and concerts of both Indian and Western music. It was modified in 1935 to allow cinema; and, in this avatar, eventually became one of the most famous movie palaces in Bombay screening Bollywood hits, many of which ran for over a year.

After its closure in 1993, the building was in a state of dilapidation. Since it was deemed a “heritage” structure, the government initiated a project of restoration in 2008, in collaboration with an Indian royal family who are the current owners of the opera house.

The restoration was carried-out by an Indian conservation-architect, with painstaking attention to Baroque detail, preserving the ornate carvings, paintings and embellishments in the auditorium and its foyer, returning the Italian marble and crystal chandeliers to their former glory.

The auditorium of the opera-house, with its colour-scheme of red, cream and gold, bears a faint resemblance (perhaps not surprisingly) to that of its namesake in London. In fact, it could well be seen as a miniature of the latter, although the pit here is covered and under the stage, not open and in front of the proscenium. The theatre has two balconies and 574 seats; the boxes on the side are now merely decorative, though there still are four “Royal boxes” at the rear of the stalls.

The covered pit is small indeed, perhaps too small, capable of accommodating only twenty musicians, with a wooden shell behind. Extending it to the front could only be achieved after extensive restructuring, which may not be in keeping with the priorities of restoration. However, this obviously restricts the kind of repertoire that could be staged here successfully, which would probably be limited to works with light scoring (or can be managed with pared-down orchestration) such as Baroque opera, some Mozart and lightweight bel canto…or perhaps operetta.

Another drawback is the newly-installed air-conditioning, which blows air into the auditorium with an audible “whoosh” rather than letting it drop down noiselessly. In practice, however, one gets used to this sound which makes its presence felt only during softer music.

The auditorium’s most significant strength is its acoustic: lush, warm and very kind to voices. These are given somewhat more prominence over the orchestra, which is not surprising, considering the limited number of players in the pit. One would imagine it is an easy space for singers, who would conceivably require less effort to project fuller tone.

The stage itself is quite adequate, having decent depth and width; and with a modern lighting system. In fact, ever since its re-opening in October 2016, the opera-house has been used to stage several plays; and is slowly becoming recognised as a viable venue by theatre groups in the city.

Now, for the first time in nearly a century, the house is back to its original purpose with the staging of a full-length opera, Il Matrimonio Segreto by Cimarosa. Since the house doesn’t have its own opera company, this was presented by the Giving Voice Society, an organisation headed by the Indian-born soprano, Patricia Rozario. She and her husband, pianist Mark Troop, visit India thrice a year to conduct intensive workshops for local singers; and thus provide a much-needed service, considering the paucity of voice-teachers in this country.

The opera was given a more than competent performance by Ms Rozario’s students and other singers of Indian origin. The staging was minimalistic, updating the action to what looked like a fin de siècle scenario.

One is happy to know that Giving Voice is not the only group staging opera with home-grown performers. The Neemrana Foundation has been doing so for some time now, presenting operas with Indian themes or about the Indian sub-continent (including a superb Les Pêcheurs des Perles). Late last year, they staged a delectable potpourri of excerpts from such works right here, in the Royal Opera House, Mumbai. It is good to see these organisations take the time, money and effort to nurture and develop local talent, unlike others with far greater resources who prefer instead to import from abroad.

The ROHM has to be a multi-purpose theatre by way of necessity, since opera alone would not be sufficient for it to sustain itself, at the moment. Until that day arrives, it is a much-needed addition to this city’s cultural life, which has been trying to overcome a near-monopolistic situation.

So its welcome back, indeed.

Opera Gala and Bombay's Boheme.

In February 2017, the NCPA presented a season of operatic performances, including two concerts and a production called "La Boheme Revisited". I attended the first Gala...which was mediocre; and the opening night of the opera proper...which was "ingenious" in the wrong way!
Both reviews were commissioned by Seen and Heard International and were combined into one. They can be found here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2017/02/new-reviews-of-opera-in-mumbai-a-gala-and-la-boheme-revisited/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).
Readers are welcome to draw their own conclusions from the reviews...and leave comments!

Who’s Scared of Opera?

Published in "Mumbai Mirror" 6 February 2017

The high notes, the foreign languages and clans of obsessed aficionados have endowed opera with a mystique, tinged with fear, in the minds of many. Which is unwarranted because opera is, quite simply, music-drama; the precursor of the Broadway musical. And today, with so much opera available on video, subtitled in English, there is even less reason to be intimidated by it.

What makes opera different? The style of singing. In musicals, singers are (usually) supported by electronic amplification to fill the theatre; in opera, the singer relies on his/her own body, fueled by immense reserves of breath, to provide the necessary power and resonance to ride over a 100-piece orchestra and fill a 2000-seat opera-house! An operatic voice may thus, at first, sound artificial but can be very thrilling, especially on those high notes and in music which demands great vocal agility in executing tricky runs and leaps, much like the taan-s of an Indian classical vocalist.

Indeed, older operas made great demands on a singer’s vocal technique; and were somewhat stylised and predictable in their musical language. Plots were initially drawn from Classical literature and mythology, eventually giving way to more contemporary sources and melodic invention. Novels and plays by authors as diverse as Beaumarchais, Sir Walter Scott, Schiller, Dumas and Shakespeare were shaped into singing-texts; the characters became flesh-and-blood, the music more “natural” and free-flowing.

Mozart was perhaps the first composer to attempt the above; but the 19^th Century saw the resurgence of florid style, which came to be called bel canto (literally “beautiful singing”) and in which the performer reigned supreme. These operas served as showcases for the human voice; and singers often took liberties with the music to interpolate ever more dazzling displays of vocal virtuosity. Foremost among the composers in this genre were Bellini, Donizetti and Rossini.

Then came the Italian maestro Giuseppe Verdi, whose operas with their emphasis on melody and humanity changed the course of opera forever. He is probably the most influential operatic composer, along with his German contemporary, Richard Wagner, whose later works are said to be the foundation of modern music; and whose mantle was carried forward into the 20^th century by his compatriot, Richard Strauss.

Italian opera soon embraced an entirely Romantic idiom. Here passions were palpable, inflected with poetry. The orchestral palette became full-blooded and highly expressive of emotions; the vocal style commensurately full-throttle, “beautiful singing” for its own sake being replaced by an all-encompassing, musico-dramatic rendition of the words and notes. The plots were earthy, the people generally drawn from everyday life; and this was called Verismo (or realism). Foremost among its practitioners was Giacomo Puccini, who became (like Verdi before him) the most representative Italian operatic composer of his time.

And in all this, the French weren’t far behind. They had a rich tradition of opera through the centuries, culminating in the works of Jules Massenet and Georges Bizet. His “Carmen” is perhaps the most popular opera of all, even though it was a flop when it premièred.

Any exploration of opera should probably begin with “Carmen”. This is because it is actually (in today’s parlance) musical-theatre, the music being interspersed with spoken dialogue. The opera has been adapted countless times into dance, film and drama; and various milieus, including a Mumbai nightclub. Its title-character is well-known: a free-spirited gypsy who believes “Love is a rebellious bird”. The setting is Spain (with a bullfight happening offstage during the final scene) and the music is visceral yet melodious. The ideal way to get to know the opera is through the stunning film by Francesco Rosi, shot on location but faithful to the music, with an amazingly vivid performance by the soprano Julia Migenes-Johnson who literally lives the title-role (and sings quite well too!) partnered by a young Plácido Domingo.

Next would be “La Bohème” by Puccini. Set in fin-de-siècle Paris, in a Bohemian society of struggling writers, artists and musicians, this love-story is poignant and true; and the music is sheer, unabashed lyricism. The performance of choice would be from the Metropolitan Opera, in the production by Franco Zeffirelli, recorded in 1982. Teresa Stratas and José Carreras are perfectly cast as the lovers; and the staging is immensely atmospheric, virtually recreating the Latin Quarter of Paris. An excellent alternative would be the production from the Sydney Opera House, directed by Baz Luhrmann, which updates the action to post-war Paris and is extremely moving.

Continuing in the Parisian locale, we come to Verdi’s “La Traviata” based on Alexandre Dumas Jr’s novel “La Dame aux Camélias”. This was also an initial flop, because it was considered too unconventional in its contemporary (for its time) setting and its heroine Violetta, the “fallen woman” of the title, who is a high-class courtesan. The opera is reborn in the truly brilliant modern staging by Willy Decker at the Salzburg Festival, stripping the drama down to its raw essentials, most chillingly. Anna Netrebko is utterly riveting and vital as Violetta, both physically and vocally; so is Rolando Villazón as her lover.

Then there is Rossini’s “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” (The Barber of Seville) a comic opera in the bel canto tradition. Apart from having some of the most charming, lilting music ever written (with plenty of opportunities for gifted singers to strut their vocal stuff) it can also be extremely funny…if done right. Which is certainly the case in the production by Bartlett Sher at the Metropolitan Opera, with incredible singing by Joyce DiDonato and Juan Diego Flórez; and Peter Mattei’s engaging performance in the title-role of Figaro. This is (as yet) only available for streaming from metopera.org; but an excellent alternative would be the lovely film by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle, starring Hermann Prey as Figaro.

Having started with the operas listed above, there is always the possibility of exploring more by the same or other composers. Whichever you choose, if you love music and the theatre, you are in for a treat…and one that is pleasantly addictive.

So take the plunge…and enjoy!

My review of "The Met: Live in HD" screening of Verdi's opera "Il Trovatore" was commissioned by Seen and Heard International and is available on their website here:
http://seenandheard-international.com/2015/10/not-a-trovatore-for-the-ages/
I am probably one of the (very) few critics who did NOT gush over its star, Anna Netrebko, and the rest of the cast and production. What can I say? I am not easily impressed and prefer to tell it like I see it!


The Met: Live in HD – Verdi, Il Trovatore: Soloists, Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera, New York / Marco Armiliato (conductor). Pre-recorded performance-screening, Godrej Dance Academy Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts, Mumbai, India. 15.10.2015. (JSM)


Cast:
Ferrando: Štefan Kocán
Ines: Maria Zifchak
Leonora: Anna Netrebko
Count di Luna: Dmitri Hvorostovsky
Manrico: Yonghoon Lee
Azucena: Dolora Zajick
A Gypsy: Edward Albert
A Messenger: David Lowe
Ruiz: Raúl Melo

Production:
Director: Sir David McVicar
Set Designer: Charles Edwards
Costume Designer: Brigitte Reiffenstuel
Lighting Designer: Jennifer Tipton
Choreographer: Leah Hausman
Live in HD host: Susan Graham
Live in HD director: Gary Halvarson

The legendary tenor Enrico Caruso once said that all one needs for a great performance of Verdi’s “Il Trovatore” are the four greatest singers in the world (to which I would add a fifth, the bass). For this opera is an unabashed celebration of the art, providing its principals with many glorious set-pieces in which to strut their stuff, for which a solid vocal technique and innate musicality are both de rigeur.

In this, the opera was a step backward for Verdi, not only to the bel canto style of composition prevalent in early 19th century but going back as far as Mozart in some of its more lyrical arias. At the same time, it maintains a musical language that is unmistakably Verdian and points forward to future works in the composer’s canon.

If this performance of the work from the Met is an attempt to take Mr. Caruso at his word, the current state-of-the-art in the operatic world leaves a lot to be desired. None of the individual performances by the principal singers are what this critic would describe as “great” though each one is, in greater or lesser part, “good”.

The first voice heard is Štefan Kocán as Ferrando…and it augurs well. He sings the opening scena with commanding vocal presence and sonorous tone; but falls a little short of the music’s florid requirements. He is joined by the Met’s chorus, singing their intricate music with verve and precision. Here and elsewhere their contribution is the undeniable result of excellent training.

The next scene brings forth the person everyone is arguably waiting for: superstar Anna Netrebko as Leonora. One wishes reality would be an accurate reflection of hype…and one is disappointed. Ms Netrebko’s voice has become heavier in timbre and heftier in size; and the price is paid in fluidity and agility. The cantabile phrases of Tacea la notte placida do not soar as they should; the coloratura in the subsequent cabaletta is imprecise and lacking a proper trill. The role’s low tessitura seems to trouble her, though she is supremely confident above the stave.

Later in the performance, however, she warms into the role nicely, offering some lovely lyric singing in the marriage-scene with Manrico; and a surprisingly fluent D’amor sull’ali rosee WITH a decent trill and mellifluous legato, although the coloratura in Tu vedrai is approximately managed and uncertain in pitch. High points in her performance are undoubtedly the powerful Miserere and her impassioned duet with the Count, in both of which she (almost) makes one forget she is not a born spinto but a scaled-up lyric soprano. That vocal pedigree is most evident in her death-scene, sung with limpid tone and quite sublime.

Baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky was apparently undergoing treatment for a serious medical condition when this recording was made. He sounds tired as the Count di Luna; and does not sing “out” as often as required, wisely preferring to conserve his voice carefully. He has true Verdian style, singing his romantic ode to Leonora (Il balen del suo sorriso) as an inward, reverent utterance, with long-breathed phrasing and impeccable legato.

Azucena has been a signature role in Dolora Zajick’s long and illustrious career; and her voice is still remarkably well-preserved. The high notes ring out and the chest register is strong, if not stentorian. But there are problems in between; the all-important middle-voice has become dry and unwieldy, greatly affecting her rendition of Stride la vampa. Much of the subtlety in the following Condotta all’era in ceppi eludes the singer, though she delivers the lines describing the crying child in a mezza voce that is hair-raising. This and her soft, meditative Ai nostri monti indicate why her Azucena was one of the finest in recent memory.

Manrico, the eponymous troubadour, is sung by Yonghoon Lee who is surely not as well-known as the other principals. He is a pleasant-voiced tenor but does not possess anything near the squillo that this role demands, although the high notes are secure enough in Di quella pira. His lyric singing is praiseworthy; but the line in Ah sì ben mio stretches him to the utmost, not helped by the funereal tempo.

Which brings one to Marco Armiliato’s conducting. It is at its best in the orchestral preludes to each act, which are played with pointed zest; and the thrilling Anvil Chorus. He mostly gets out of the way, simply accompanying the singers…which is not a bad thing. However, the trio that ends Act 1 and the Finale of Act 2 lack rhythmic propulsion and bite; and ensembles are not razor-sharp in co-ordination.

Sir David McVicar’s production is apparently inspired by Goya and set in the early 19th Century, closer to Verdi’s own time. It certainly is atmospheric, conveying the plot’s tragic course and murky history effectively. The predominant colour is grey; and the image of Azucena’s mother, burnt at the stake, is always present. There is blood and violence; and also scenes of debauchery in the soldiers’ camp, all realistically done.

But the overall darkness can cause some eye-strain in viewing, even though the transmission is in High Definition. This was certainly the case at the Godrej Theatre, in Mumbai’s National Centre for the Performing Arts. The video-projection and some anomalies in the sound are being looked-at by the management in the hope of improving the audio-visual experience.

In sum, this is not an “Il Trovatore” for the ages. One has to go not too far back in the Met’s history for a proper realisation of this warhorse; to any of the performances featuring Leontyne Price and a cast of Met stalwarts (including the young Domingo and Milnes) or a little further to the electrifying 1952 recording with Milanov, Björling, Warren and Barbieri. They would have done Caruso proud.

A Barbiere of middling qualità

After more than a year, a review for Seen and Heard International of a screening of the opera "The Barber of Seville" in "The Met-Live in HD" series at the NCPA. This current performance and production was mediocre, on-the-whole, which makes one wonder why they don't screen some of the amazing stuff they have in their archives? One GREAT relief was that the sound is now tolerable....gone is the horrible compression of loud passages and boosting of soft ones (rather like an old VHS recorder). Guess the specific suggestions I made to their technical staff and equipment-supplier were finally heeded!


Rossini, Il Barbiere di Siviglia:  Soloists, Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera / Michele Mariotti (conductor), "The Met, Live in HD" screening, Godrej Dance Academy Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai. 22.12.2014 (JSM).


Cast:
Fiorello: Yungpeng Wang
Count Almaviva: Lawrence Brownlee
Figaro: Christopher Maltman
Rosina: Isabel Leonard
Dr Bartolo: Maurizio Muraro
Don Basilio: Paata Burchuladze
Berta: Claudia Waite
An Officer: Dennis Petersen
Ambrogio: Rob Besserer


Production
Director: Bartlett Sher
Set Designer: Michel Yeargan
Costume Designer: Catherine Zuber
Lighting Designer: Christopher Akerlind
Stage Director :Kathleen Smith Belcher
Live in HD Director: Matthew Diamond
Live in HD Host: Deborah Voigt


Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais, playwright, revolutionary and spy, would surely have been surprised to learn that two plays from his Figaro trilogy were destined to become mainstays of opera, that most aristocratic of art-forms. The first of these, Le Barbier de Séville, was set to music by several composers, of which Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia is the most enduring; and the second was to become Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro. The third play, La Mère Coupable, was also adapted into opera by Darius Milhaud and by John Corigliano in The Ghosts of Versailles; but these could hardly be considered mainstream.

Figaro is one of the most endearing yet subversive characters in operatic repertoire; but, in Bartlett Sher's staging at the Metropolitan Opera, he is reduced to a sex-symbol. He first appears atop a cart drawn by fawning women, who also make another appearance (unannounced and unnecessary) out of closed doors in the duet that follows, with two of them caught in a lesbian clinch within the cart. One questions the reasoning behind this dramaturgy, which seems prompted merely by a desire to be cute and sensational.

To his credit, Mr. Sher's staging pays tribute to both Commedia dell'Arte and French farce in several ways; the most noticeable of which is the presence of over-sized, old-fashioned footlights across the front of the stage, taking one immediately back to an earlier theatrical tradition. And his use of an extended apron (or passerelle) all around the orchestra allows a welcome immediacy between singers and audience.

One wishes the singing itself in this "Live in HD" recording were something to write home about. Sadly, with one or two exceptions, it isnt.

The greatest disappointment is Christopher Maltman's Figaro. With little or no semblance of bel canto technique, all that's left is a pleasant, lyric baritone matched to a good-looking, boyish stage-presence, not enough to do full justice to this vocally demanding part for which he evidently lacks the requisite skill.

The Rosina too, played by the mezzo-soprano Isabel Leonard, is marred by approximations in coloratura passagework and often-smudged roulades, making one wonder at the wisdom of adding extra fioriture when those that were actually written can just about be managed. Even so, her well-produced, warm timbre and intelligent acting contributes to a performance that is nicely rounded but lacking, perhaps, in what is called star quality.

The tenor Lawrence Brownlee, on the other hand, is very much the star of this show. Possessing a formidable technique and a small but accurately "placed" voice, he executes all of his florid singing with élan, from the opening serenade to the fiendishly-difficult Cessa di più resistere (omitted by many tenors) near the end of the opera, intriguingly adding an extra aria whose first half is borrowed directly from Non più mesta in La Cenerentola. However, all this is not achieved without visible effort; and compromised by very intrusive aspiration in much of his passagework.

Of the two bassos, Maurizio Muraro's patter-singing as Dr. Bartolo is superbly nimble; but the rest is hampered by uncertainty in pitch. And Paata Burchuladze's Don Basilio has only a remnant of what used to be his awe-inspiring vocal lushness.

Rob Besserer, in the non-singing and barely-speaking part of the somnolent servant Ambrogio, virtually steals the show.

The performance is held together admirably by the young conductor Michele Mariotti, who draws playing of great vivacity from the Met orchestra, which displays commendable articulation and co-ordination in even the fastest, busiest passages. The sheer rhythmic verve and lyrical sensibility of the conducting make this a maestro to watch, with an undoubtedly brilliant future.

It was a relief to note that the sound in the Godrej Theatre at the NCPA is now free of the anomalies and severe dynamic compression heard until recently, which caused many regulars to stop attending the screenings altogether. Hopefully, the sound will be maintained consistently, giving these screenings the platform they deserve.

Speaking of which, the Met has in its archives a huge collection of unforgettable performances from the past, many of them preserved on video. Why not showcase this heritage around the world?

The Met: Live in HD....at the Godrej Theatre, NCPA.

One event, two reviews....the "event" being "The Met: Live in HD" series of opera-screenings from the Metropolitan Opera, New York, now being shown in Bombay.
I reviewed the second of these, Verdi's "Otello", and have written two different pieces on it. One is a feature on Mumbai Theatre Guide, focussing on the somewhat inadequate experience of watching these in the Godrej Dance Theatre at the NCPA. This is also available at: http://www.mumbaitheatreguide.com/dramas/features/12/nov/29-the-met-live-in-hd-feature.asp
The other is a review on Seen and Heard International (reprinted here, below this piece) and includes a detailed evaluation of the performance of the opera.



Opera is the ultimate combination of music and drama; and New York’s Metropolitan Opera is one of the finest presenters of this complex, thrilling art.

In India, our appetites have been whetted by recent operatic productions mounted or imported by the NCPA and Neemrana Foundation. But now we are able to watch truly world-class performances from the Metropolitan Opera, in their global initiative titled “Live in HD”.

In this, select Saturday-afternoon performances are broadcast via satellite to several countries. And, to accommodate those in time-zones where the broadcast-time would be inconvenient, the entire performance is recorded and played-back later via a file saved on hard disk. Thus the screenings in India take place some time after the original broadcast but offer an identical experience, complete with intermissions giving fascinating glimpses into backstage preparation and change of scene. There are also interviews with singers and creative crew which some opera-lovers would probably find interesting, though some might well say “Get on with it!”

The NCPA’s Godrej Dance Academy Theatre is the venue for these screenings; and one wishes it were better suited. This auditorium is shaped like a horizontal shoe-box, with some of the audience seated to the far left and right of the centrally-located screen. Thus, if one is not close to the centre, one should be prepared to watch the video from an extreme angle.

Morover, one should also be prepared for some serious anomalies in the sound, which would be dominated by the output from the speaker(s) to which one is closest. The audio configuration is 7.1, with side and rear speakers mounted on the appropriate walls; the centre-channel located (as it should be) behind the acoustically-transparent screen; and the musically all-important front left and right speakers placed on the extreme left and right of the WIDE stage, embedded in the proscenium behind perforated metal grilles.

Herein lies the rub. For the bulk of the orchestral sound comes from these speakers, whose positioning effectively splits the musicians in two. And the audio suffers from severely curtailed high frequencies, probably because the metal grilles block the tweeters and rob treble sounds of detail and impact. Sadly, this is made all the worse when one is seated in the centre, as then you are way “off-axis” from the left and right speakers, which dulls the treble still further.

To make things even more difficult, the Met recordings usually do not place singers’ voices exclusively in the centre-channel; instead, a voice’s placement in the soundscape is dependent on the singer’s actual position onstage. Thus, voices often emamate from extreme left or right, where the sound-quality is markedly inferior compared to when they are in the centre and reproduced by the correctly-mounted centre-channel speaker. This becomes glaringly obvious when a singer crosses the stage.

But what of the performances? Not everything from the Met is beyond reproach and the current season, presenting screenings of “L’Elisir d’Amore” and “Otello” so far, is no exception. Moreover, at least six of the twelve performances slated for broadcast are of old productions, some of which are available on DVD/Bluray or online with different, stellar casts. The new productions promise fresh insights; but whether they will actually deliver the goods musically and dramatically remains to be seen.

In sum, watching the Met at the NCPA “Live in HD” is a mixed experience. It certainly affords a glimpse into the workings of a world-class opera-house and offers a reasonable facsimile of the real thing. One hopes, however, that the audio problems will be sorted-out. If not, people owning high-quality audio-video systems may well want to watch these performances at home.

The Met's Moor in Mumbai

Commissioned by Seen and Heard International and also available at:
http://www.seenandheard-international.com/2012/11/26/the-moor-in-mumbai/
Verdi: “Otello”
“The Met: Live in HD” screening.
Godrej Dance Academy Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 24.11.2012 (JSM)

Otello: Johan Botha
Desdemona: Renée Fleming
Iago: Falk Struckmann
Cassio: Michael Fabiano

Conductor: Semyon Bychkov
Production: Elijah Moshinsky
Set Designer: Michael Yeargan
Costume Designer: Peter J. Hall
Lighting Designer: Duane Schuler
Choreographer: Eleanor Fazan


“Othello” is surely the most conjugal of Shakespeare’s plays. The relationship between the Moor and his wife is its dramatic spine, made all the more evident in Verdi’s opera “Otello”. Herein, Arrigo Boito’s masterful libretto graphs this relationship through each of its four acts, starting with unmitigated love and ending in brutal murder.

Each act has at least one major scene between Otello and Desdemona; and it is up to the principal singers to bring their tragic destiny to operatic life. Watching the Met’s Live in HD presentation of the opera in Mumbai, it became all too apparent this relationship was dead on arrival, for there was little or no chemistry between Johan Botha’s Otello and Renée Fleming’s Desdemona.

Ms Fleming is, of course, well-known for her portrayal, starting with her career-making step-in as understudy in the same Met production, soon after its première in 1994. Her Otello then was Plácido Domingo; and their extraordinary partnership was documented for posterity in the DVD release of a telecast performance. Here we have Johan Botha partnering the diva in another broadcast, this time via HD to theaters all around the world, but charged with little or no electricity.

Much of the problem lies in Botha’s stolid, stock characterisation, with little of the psychological layers suggested by Domingo. Some may find Botha’s simplicity disarming, though many others would probably be irritated by his face-making and posturing, sometimes unintentionally hilarious in the manner of a B-movie monster-villain. Vocally, though, he is lyrical and utterly musical, notwithstanding the slight beat in the voice, with secure top notes almost making one forget the lack of squillo (most noticeable in his opening Esultate!) and sheer power associated with the role. This was unleashed only occasionally but to great effect; for example in the shout “quella vil cortigiana!” in the Act 3 duet.

However, in the same duet, it was Ms Fleming who had to shoulder virtually the entire burden of making the scene dramatically involving. Even so, Botha followed with a very moving account of the monologue Dio mi potevi, with scrupulous attention to the score, delivering much of it in a hushed monotone rather than resorting (like so many others, including Domingo) to showy melodrama. Not surprisingly, the highlight of his performance was the final Niun mi tema which was sung with aristocratic restraint; and almost left this reviewer with a lump in the throat.

Ms Fleming, on the other hand, gave a no-holds-barred performance; and occasionally it seemed she may have been trying too hard. Undoubtedly with age, her voice has lost some of its warmth and volume, though she can still float some ethereally lovely pianissimi. Her singing, as always, remains rooted in rock-solid technique and innate musicality; and her dramatic sensibilities have certainly strengthened over the years. As mentioned earlier, she was quite riveting in the crucial Act 3 duet; but her Willow Song was a little too “loud” and, for the most part, curiously unmoving.

Falk Struckmann seemed severely strained by Iago’s high tessitura, hectoring rather than singing his way through the part. Barking and snarling do not a characterisation make; and Mr. Struckmann resorted far too much and too often to such ungainly, extra-musical effects to make his points. Even so, his Credo ended with a thrilling top F, sustained well into the orchestral conclusion; and Era la notte had some interesting touches. His Drinking Song, however, was a near-disaster.

Semyon Bychkov was in the pit and offered a reading of hyper-clarity, with every semiquaver given its due. This robbed the performance of bite, vitality and visceral impact, which so much of “Otello” demands. The ensembles with chorus were the worst affected, in particular Fuoco di gioia! which was funereal instead of joyful. And the antics onstage during this scene could only be described as embarrassing.

Bychkov’s measured approach paid-off in some of the more introspective passages like the introduction to Act 4; but he did a complete volte-face at the end of Act 2 for the Vengeance Duet, which was taken hell-for-leather and threatened to turn into a “runaway train”. The Met orchestra did the best they could, with some ravishing playing from the principal string and woodwind players.

Elijah Moshinsky’s venerable production has worn well, although on renewed acquaintance the many huge pillars seem to dwarf the action and cramp the stage, especially during the great finale of Act 3 where the chorus and supernumeraries are literally squeezed into the space between them. Even so, it is certainly beautiful to look at, aided by Duane Schuler’s shaded, saturnine lighting.

The HD screening at the Godrej Dance Theatre in Mumbai’s NCPA needed better adjustment of black-levels to allow more detail and definition in some of the darker scenes, which seemed a little washed-out. And the sound, despite an impressive array of equipment from B&W and Classé, was a huge disappointment.

The problem lies in the deployment of speakers in this horizontal shoe-box of an auditorium. Those carrying the musically all-important Front Left and Right signals are at opposite ends of the WIDE stage, embedded in the proscenium behind a perforated metal grille. As a result, the orchestra is virtually split into two; and high frequencies are severely muffled. The center-channel speaker is, however, correctly positioned behind the acoustically-transparent screen; and the anomalies in sound-quality become glaringly obvious when a singer’s voice crosses the soundstage from one side to the other, through the center.

Even so, being able to watch the latest offerings from the Met, in countries like India where opera isnt regularly performed, is a welcome treat for music-lovers. In this, the Met’s “Live in HD” is a worthy initiative indeed.

Warhorses, for baritone and orchestra

This concert-review was commissioned by Seen and Heard International and published here:
http://www.seenandheard-international.com/2012/10/02/warhorses-for-baritone-and-orchestra/

Anooshah Golesorkhi (baritone); Symphony Orchestra of India, Zane Dalal (conductor).

Jamshed Bhabha Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, 30.9.12.

Wagner: “Rienzi” - Overture

Verdi: “Don Carlo” - Per me giunto….O Carlo ascolta

“Otello” - Credo in un Dio crudel

Suppé: “Poet and Peasant” - Overture

Verdi: “Il Trovatore” - Il balen del suo sorriso

“Un Ballo in Maschera” - Prelude to Act 2; Eri tu che macchiavi
Puccini: “Tosca” - Te Deum

Rossini: “Semiramide” - Overture

Verdi: “Macbeth” - Pietà, rispetto, amore

Giordano: “Andrea Chénier” - Nemico della Patria

Johann Strauss Jr: Egyptian March

De Curtis: Non ti scordar di me

Johann Strauss Jr: “Emperor” Waltz

Leoncavallo: Mattinata

Baritone Anooshah Golesorkhi returned to Mumbai exactly two years (to the day) after his stunning performance here as Baron Scarpia in “Tosca”, to give a recital consisting of seven mainstays of the operatic repertoire and two popular songs, interspersed with orchestral favorites. A challenging program, executed with a modicum of success; with the participation of the Symphony Orchestra of India, conducted by Zane Dalal.

Mr. Golesorkhi possesses a voice of medium power, lacking the squillo of the true Verdian baritone but reasonably secure on the high notes, though less so at the bottom of the stave. There is genuine musicality at work, an attempt at line and legato which sometimes, however, falls short and is further stretched by slow tempi or extremes in dynamics and tessitura. Above all, there is real awareness of character; an ability to adapt color and expression to suit psyche and emotion. Thus, the seven gentlemen portrayed did NOT sing with one voice.

The major disappointment herein was, surprisingly, Scarpia. Unlike his previous incarnation in this city at Mr. Golesorkhi’s behest, the Baron lacked almost all semblance of lust in the Te Deum; and was sometimes barely audible over the orchestra.

The baritone’s best performance of the evening was Gérard the revolutionary, in Giordano’s verismo warhorse “Andrea Chénier”. The character’s complexities and contradictions; his compulsion to live-up to ideals all came across in a moving performance of the aria Nemico della Patria. Within the singer’s limitations, it packed a powerful musico-dramatic punch.

The five Verdi villains, anti-heroes and noble souls lay somewhere between those two in accomplishment. Of these, Iago fared the best, his Credo delivered with bite, venom and vivid word-painting; in particular the penultimate utterance “La Morte e il Nulla!” given in a chilling whisper. But here again, Mr. Golesorkhi was sometimes almost drowned-out by Mr. Dalal’s orchestra whose “accompaniment” was often too loud.

Macbeth’s Pietà, rispetto, amore began with a vocally secure and appropriately blustering recitative, undergoing a sea-change at the thought of possible defeat and ending in a plangent mezza voce. The aria proper was performed with fine Verdian cantabile unfortunately compromised by occasionally intrusive aspiration.

Also compromised were Il balen del suo sorriso from “Il Trovatore” and Eri tu from “Un Ballo in Maschera” by inconsistent legato in phrasing and execution of ornamental gruppetti; and a reluctance to give some notes their full value. The former aria was taken at a dangerously slow pace which exacerbated the singer’s problems; and in the latter, Renato’s bitter indictment of his unfaithful wife’s relationship with his best friend was, interestingly, conceived more in sorrow than anger.

The Marchese di Posa’s death scene from “Don Carlo”, with which the baritone began his recital, was a clear indication of what was to follow, indicating the singer’s strengths and weaknesses. These were again evident in the popular songs with which he concluded the program, Non ti scordar di me and Mattinata, both sung with verve, grace and generosity of spirit, making one forgive any previous shortcomings.

Maestro Dalal elicited fine, sensitive playing from members of his orchestra, particularly Principal Cellist Boris Baraz and, in the accompaniment to Eri tu, flautists Katherine Bicknell and Sarah Bennington, along with Tatiana Oskolkova on the harp. However, as noted earlier, the balance of orchestra with baritone-soloist needed to be better-judged, especially since both were placed at the same physical level.

The trumpet-calls which began Wagner’s “Rienzi” Overture (and the concert) were clarion-like and executed with perfect swell and ebb; and the music of Rienzi’s Prayer was meltingly played. Although one got the feeling it peaked too early, this utterly musical performance of the overture made the tiresome bombast of its concluding pages tolerable!

The Overture to “Semiramide” was variable. After some tentative phrasing by the quartet of french horns, the ensuing Allegro was taken at a clip with fine rhythmic sensibilty and bounce, though one found the string pizzicati too soft in relation to the woodwinds, who played admirably. The brass section (here and elsewhere) seemed to lag a little behind the rest of the orchestra; and Rossini’s crescendi could have had better gradation.

One wondered why the comparatively lightweight Suppé and Johann Strauss Jr. selections were present in the program….perhaps to make it more palatable to mainstream audiences? In any case, the former’s “Poet and Peasant” Overture was given a sonorous opening, though the fiercely-trilled tutti which followed from the strings lacked dramatic attack; and the waltz had little Viennese lilt. Similarly, the performance of Strauss’ “Emperor” Waltz, despite much fussing over details, came across as entirely unidiomatic. However, his insouciant little Egyptian March was delivered with brio and charm.

On the whole, the concert had the makings of an enjoyable evening; but was severely undermined by terribly fatiguing sound, apparently caused by the new reflectors hanging over the orchestra. They seem to amplify and project the sound unnaturally, especially from the strings and woodwinds, making it harsh and headache-inducing. This was never the case in the Jamshed Bhabha Theatre whose acoustics could, in fact, be described as somewhat cavernous and indistinct, depending on where one was seated. If installing the reflectors is an attempt by the NCPA to “improve” the sound, the method is evidently counter-productive and extremely ill-advised!

Santuzza in stilettos, Canio on TV

This piece is also posted (with small edits) on my webpage at http://seenandheard-international.com/tag/jiten-s-merchant/
(Also apparently available via a link on http://theoperacritic.com/ which can be accessed only by a paid subscription).

Opera in Mumbai used to be a rare phenomenon, occurring once in a very great while. However, thanks to the opera-centric management at the city’s National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA) and its world-class orchestra-in-residence, the Symphony Orchestra of India, it is now relatively frequent, with new productions being staged for limited runs every two years or so.

Since Mumbai lacks an opera-company, productions are imported in varying degree; and this latest offering of "Cavalleria Rusticana" and "Pagliacci" came from South America, complete with sets. As such, it minimised the Indian contribution to a few members of the orchestra (most of whom are, again, “imported”), some choristers and extras. It had a run of three performances, of which this reviewer caught the first and the last.

Opening-night was fraught with problems. For one thing, the interval lasted 75 minutes, owing to the elaborate set-change. The truth is, the Jamshed Bhabha Theatre has limited space around the stage; so large sets cannot be wheeled on and off; and have to be struck and mounted in situ. The subsequent performances saw a progressive reduction in this inordinate delay, down to about 50 minutes.

In "Cavalleria", mezzo-soprano Elena Bocharova as Santuzza was apparently unwell on opening night; and decided not to attempt any high notes after the Easter Hymn, singing them an octave lower. Wearing what looked like diamond ear-studs, a pearl or coral necklace and a pair of bright and shiny patent-leather stilettos, it seemed as though a member of the audience had lost her way onto the stage. And there was nothing in her performance that conveyed more than cursory emotional involvement with the predicament of this supposedly poor, simple village-girl.

Her Turiddu was slightly better. Giancarlo Monsalve had the looks and physical presence; but his vocalism was heavy-handed, needing a “leg-up” to reach the high notes; his tone an ill-focussed spread. Even so, he managed a surprisingly proficient account of his final Addio alla Madre.

The others saved the day. Gevorg Hakobyan’s Alfio was alpha-male in his swagger and robust tone, though somewhat cavalier with note-values during Il cavallo scalpita. Marianna Vinci was spot-on as Lola, though clotted below the stave; and Chiara Fracasso gave probably the finest performance in the cast as Mamma Lucia, note-perfect in a finely-shaded, idiomatic characterisation.

Ms Bocharova was replaced after opening-night by soprano Chiara Angella, who had no problems with the role’s high tessitura and wore much more sensible footwear. She did, however, have a wide and pronounced vibrato. Even so, her sheer involvement and innate musicality paid immense dividends during Voi lo sapete and the duet with Turiddu, ending in a hair-raising “Bada!” and curse.

Mickael Spadaccini sang Turiddu on the last night and his interpretation was “softer” than the animal-like quality of Monsalve; his vocalism followed suit with sensitive phrasing, though not always perfectly-rounded in tone.

In Pagliacci, tenor Francesco Anile proved himself to be very much a singer’s singer, allowing the pathos and passion in the music to express itself (à la Björling) without resorting to bathetic boo-hooing or savage shouting. Possessing a relatively small but evenly-produced voice, his high notes were laser-sharp, cutting through orchestral tutti with ease. Acting-wise, he erred on the side of economy, conveying Canio’s extremis simply but effectively. However, the final stabbing of Nedda and Silvio could have been much more crazed and vicious; here it barely registered on the audience.

Sabina Cvilak, as Nedda, was secure and powerful above the stave; and threw herself into her part with convincing abandon. Although she was occasionally inaudible in the lower passaggio (but with strong chest-notes) her musicality was unimpeachable, with ravishing pianissimi in her duet with Silvio, where baritone Javier Arrey was also superbly lyrical and offered a moving rendition of his brief solo.

Silvio Zanon’s harder, gleaming baritone suited Tonio perfectly. Though slightly strained by the Prologue’s top notes, he gave a vivid musico-dramatic characterisation of the hunchback, reaching its peak in the fiery exchange with Nedda. In contrast, he showed a real flair for comedy during the antics of Scene 2, in which Filippo Adami sang Beppe’s little solo in full voice with insouciant ease; and moved with great agility.

If "Cav and Pag" are said to be twins, they could hardly be more dissimilar than in this production. Here, "Cavalleria" was played on an exquisitely-detailed set of a Sicilian village-piazza; beautiful but shrouded in a near-perpetual twilight through which the Sicilian sun shone only intermittently. "Pagliacci", interestingly, was set in a TV studio from the early 60s, with professional cameras “shooting” the action in black and white, displayed on a screen at the back. A large neon-sign announced “23 ORE” as the title of the show in which Canio’s troupe was slated to perform; and the chorus became the studio-audience. The show itself, in Scene 2 of the opera, was a circus-style extravaganza complete with acrobats, while the preceeding intimate scenes were performed “off-camera” in a dressing-room and the empty studio.

Director Willy Landin’s imagination had obviously run riot, offering a thoroughly riveting “modern” mise-en-scène of "Pagliacci", albeit with a few minor inconsistencies. It was difficult to accept that the same director was responsible for the somewhat four-square "Cavalleria" earlier that evening!

Landin’s forte was the interaction between principal characters, brilliantly realised in both operas, especially "Pagliacci" in its switching back-and-forth between reality and Commedia dell’Arte. The chorus were given little attention in "Cavalleria", being made to walk around in slow-motion or strike stilted poses in groups, without much sense of “character” or involvement (where were their wine-glasses during the Brindisi?). In "Pagliacci", however, they remained happily seated until called-upon to react, in time to the music.

This amalgamation of choirs, though satisfyingly full-voiced, lacked the agility of a true operatic chorus, being somewhat sluggish in its response to the dynamics of music-drama; and unable to adapt to sudden changes in tempo. As a result, there were major imprecisions in ensemble with the orchestra, under both conductors.

Antonello Allemandi conducted opening-night con brio….to a fault. The orchestra was king, playing with full-blooded attack and burnished tone; the conductor seeming to revel in the amplitude of its sound at the expense of those singers who were unable to cut through it. His tempi were generally fast, making for a thrilling listen but also the occasional Runaway Train, when singers were unable to keep-up.

Resident-maestro Zane Dalal was, on the other hand, more responsive to the lyricism in both scores, keeping passion in its place. From the very first, meltingly-beautiful notes of the Prelude to "Cavalleria", it was clear this was going to be an utterly musical, elegant reading of the operas. He conducted with a firm, clear downbeat, in sync with variations in rhythm (for example, the heady swirl of Nedda’s Balatella) and highlighting inner voices with tender clarity. Climaxes, when they occurred, had requisite weight and volume, if not quite the visceral slam conjured by Maestro Allemandi.

The semi-covered pit of the JBT was perhaps responsible for amplifying the orchestral sound to a point where only the most securely-produced voices were able to ride it successfully; and this was evident at three differently-located seats, in an auditorium notorious for its unpredictable acoustics.

This, along with technical limitations and logistical problems, makes staging opera a difficult proposition in this city. Mumbai’s NCPA has a few more lessons to learn; but, with experience and international support, it might well become a major operatic centre in this part of the world.

3 Divas in Bombay!

I am now an accredited reviewer at Seen and Heard International, the live-performance wing of Music Web International, one of the oldest, largest and most-visited online purveyors of musical criticism.
My first review for them was of a concert featuring three sopranos, including the Mumbai-born but UK-based Patricia Rozario.
Since this was extensively edited on the website (sometimes, I admit, for the better!) here is my original piece:

Three of a Kind!

Operatic arias by Patricia Rozario (soprano), Susanna Hurrell (soprano) and Joanne D’Mello (soprano).
Tata Theatre, National Centre for the Performing Arts (NCPA), Mumbai, India.
9 January 2012.

There are sopranos and sopranos….and this concert at the Tata Theatre in the National Centre for the Performing Arts, Mumbai, showcased three species in the genus.

All three shared a basically lyric fach and timbre, with one offering a shade of spinto; another, the bright tone of a coloratura. Occupying a solid, quintessentially lyric middle-ground between the two was their teacher and mentor, Patricia Rozario. Recently honoured with an OBE, Ms Rozario taught Susanna Hurrell at the Royal College of Music’s International Opera School; and her own compatriot, Joanne D’Mello from Goa, also at the RCM. Both students joined their teacher in this programme of mostly familiar operatic arias and duets (and a few folk-songs).

However, the very first item on the programme was decidedly unfamiliar, Brilla nell’ alma from Handel’s “Alessandro”. Ms Hurrell launched into it con brio but lacking the laser-sharp focus of the true coloratura; and with some approximation in the florid passages. These traits, along with a few lapses in intonation and little evidence of a proper trill, were also seen in two of the latter pieces, the valse from Gounod’s “Romeo et Juliette” and Adele’s Laughing Song from “Die Fledermaus”; but Ms Hurrell saved the day with her confidence above the stave. And really came into her own during Manon’s Adieu, notre petite table, which was performed complete with the preceeding recitative, the singer throwing herself convincingly into Manon’s predicament, fully conveying her conflict on leaving her lover for the high-life.

Joanne D’Mello has the makings of a fine lirico-spinto, though at the moment her voice seems still somewhat unformed. It is relatively small, with almost the timbre of a lyric mezzo in the lower register; but free, ringing top notes. However, there is sometimes a noticeable beat in the voice, which is a little worrying to hear at such an early stage in her career. She is amazingly responsive to changes in colour, differentiating clearly not only between operatic characters but also contrasting portions within the same aria. This was made evident in Cleopatra’s lament from Handel’s “Giulio Cesare” (though she lacked the requisite heft) while her rendition of Euridice’s Che fiero momento showed great sensitivity to emotion and meaning of words. Her Musetta was coquettish and playful but Despina less convincing; and she managed the mezzo parts of Dorabella and Mallika, in the duets respectively from “Cosi fan tutte” and “Lakme”, with aplomb, both partnered by Ms Hurrell.

She was also a charming Susanna in the duet Canzonetta sull’ aria from “Le Nozze di Figaro” in which she was joined by Patricia Rozario as the Contessa. From the start, it was evident that something was terribly wrong and Ms Rozario seemed to be having an off day (courtesy the Mumbai smog?) for this was not the Patricia we have come to know and love! Her legato, always the pride and joy of her vocalism, was heavy and effortful here; and also in the subsequent arias from “The Pearl Fishers” and “Rusalka”, during which she had to clear her throat a couple of times and seemed to rely on sheer will-power to finish. Even so, there was no doubt about the authority of her renditions, although the inclusion in the programme of the Queen of the Night’s “revenge” aria was a sad mistake. Written for a dramatic-coloratura (which Ms Rozario definitely is not) it was painful to hear and perhaps to sing, causing grave concern for Ms Rozario’s vocal health. Thankfully this was unfounded, as she returned later to give an utterly stupendous, show-stopping account of “Its my Wedding” from the opera “Enchanted Pig” by Jonathan Dove.

Mark Troop’s sure-footed piano-accompaniment provided a bedrock of musical support (though sometimes almost overpowering Ms D’Mello) through the evening, which ended with the three ladies singing Dvorak’s Three Gypsy Songs (including the popular “Songs my mother taught me”) with perfect co-ordination. And, in keeping with Ms Rozario’s and Ms D’Mello’s roots, the encores were a couple of lilting Goan folk-songs, sung in the native Konkani, which Ms Hurrell had mastered in two weeks!

Neither shabby nor shocking

I'm happy to report, that after a hiatus of many years, I have had a review of mine published in the press. This time, instead of drama, it is of the opera "Tosca" currently being staged in Bombay at the NCPA; and you can read it below in its entirety (along with comments on it) or in the slightly edited version published in the Times of India, Mumbai, 30 Sept 2010, Page 7.

Neither shabby nor shocking.
by
Jiten S. Merchant

Puccini: “Tosca”
Opera Bergen,
Jamshed Bhabha Theatre, NCPA,
28 Sept 2010.

The musicologist Joseph Kerman called it a “shabby little shocker” but Giacomo Puccini’s “Tosca” has had an assured place in the operatic repertoire. Based on a dramatic vehicle written for the great actress Sarah Bernhardt in the title-role, the opera condenses Sardou’s wordy play into a taut thriller, a potent combination of sex, sadism, political intrigue, religion, love….and Puccini’s glorious music.

The production by Opera Bergen at the NCPA is quite conventional, only once departing significantly from the norm --- at the beginning of Act 3, instead of hearing a shepherd-boy’s voice offstage, we see Tosca confronting her own “ghost”, her innocence forever lost.

Apart from this, director Bruno Bergen Gorski’s interpretation takes no risks. Even the attempted-rape in Act 2 is too polite, with little sexual tension. Some moments miss the point: for instance, arch-villain Scarpia’s entrance is almost funny instead of striking terror; and in the wordless passages, one often finds singers meandering rather than moving purposefully. However, the highlighting of Scarpia’s lustful fantasy of Tosca against the Te Deum sung by a congregation in church, though made too “obvious”, effectively underlines Puccini’s masterful counterpoint of profane versus sacred.

Dirk Hofacker’s sets sometimes make direction difficult, cutting too many corners (literally!) with essential dramatic areas illogically deployed or omitted altogether. For example, the door to the torture chamber in Act 2 is nowhere in sight, making nonsense of Scarpia’s command to open it so Tosca may hear Mario scream. Even so, the decision to place the horrific events of Act 2 in an ornate dining-room instead of the usual study, with a long dining-table becoming the fulcrum of confrontation, is a rewarding choice, though it allows lighting-designer Andreas Just little opportunity to create atmosphere.

Coming to the music: it is a wonder this production succeeds with such a weak prima donna, because soprano Iano Tamar rarely seemed to have what it takes, musically and dramatically, to bring Tosca to operatic life. Though her high notes were powerful (if sometimes effortful) the all-important middle-voice, sustaining much of Puccini’s melodic writing, was clotted and occasionally inaudible. And many key moments were thrown away. Even so, there were flashes of lyrical beauty, most often in Tosca’s lament Vissi d’arte and the tender leavetaking of her lover Mario in Act 3.

Speaking of whom, tenor Gustavo Porta may not have the most beautiful voice; but he more than compensates with sheer musicality. The opening Recondita armonia was a little reined-in but he opened-up later to make a truly ardent Mario, with ravishing phrasing and heroic passion, though his acting was a little four-square.

Not so Anooshah Golesorkhi, offering an insightful psychological portrait of Scarpia, revealing the man beneath the monster. This world-class baritone, though slightly strained by the role’s low extremes, took the high notes comfortably in his stride, with superb rendering of musical line and meaning of words.

Two of the supporting cast merit mention: Nika Guliashvili’s robust-voiced Angelotti and Orest Pislariu’s Sacristan --- a complete musico-dramatic characterisation instead of the customary caricature.

All of the above were held together in the solid super-structure created by conductor Anne Randine Overby. Though the opening was somewhat sluggish; and there were lapses of co-ordination between stage and pit (most damagingly with the offstage chorus in Act 2), Ms Overby led a generally thrilling performance, conveying both the passion and poetry in Puccini’s score.

And the Symphony Orchestra of India (augmented by musicians from Opera Bergen) showed itself more than capable of fulfilling the opera’s demands.