Opera Review: Let Them Eat...Each Other

Hansel and Gretel at the Met.
by Paul Pelkonen

Julia Child-killer. Robert Brubaker (r.) as the Witch menaces Gretel in
Act III of Hansel and Gretel. Photo by Marty Sohl © 2011 The Metropolitan Opera.

The Metropolitan Opera marketing department touts Hansel and Gretel as its holiday offering, with a fairy-tale story geared toward children. It promotes images of friendly chefs, and a whimsical (fish-headed) waiter serving up dishes to two hungry tykes lost in the woods. But in choosing to revive Richard Jones''s food-obsessed production (originally seen at the Welsh National Opera in 1999) the company has missed the point of the work.

Opera Review: The Wives of the Golden West

With Dark Sisters Nico Muhly creates a new American verismo.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Media frenzy: Eliza (Caitlyn Lynch) in Act II of Dark Sisters.
Photo by Richard Termine.

Nico Muhly's second opera Dark Sisters is a two-act meditation on the perils of multiple marriage, focusing on one fictional, oppressive household following the Fundamentalist Church of Latter-Day Saints. It is also one of the most raw and emotionally effective American operas to premiere this year.

Opera Review: Protest and Survive

The Metropolitan Opera revives Satyagraha.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Peaceful journey: Richard Croft as Mohandis K. Gandhi in Satyagraha.
Photo by Ken Howard © 2011 The Metropolitan Opera.

Talk about good timing.

No one could predict that the Metropolitan Opera's scheduled revival of Satyagraha, Philip Glass' 1980 opera retelling incidents in the life of Mohandis K. Gandhi, would coincide with Occupy Wall Street. Based in lower Manhattan, the Occupy movement models itself on the Mahatma's principle of "truth-force", or non-violent protest, that gives the opera its title.

Mechanical Resonance

Metropolitan Opera Unveils Latest Hi-Tech Robot Initiative.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Introducing the Met's new concertmaster, Toyota's Cyrex-5.

The Metropolitan Opera continues to push new technological boundaries with its new staging of Wagner's Ring. Its latest investment: robot musicians.

Opera Review: All Mirth, And No Matter

Opera Boston mounts Béatrice et Bénédict.

Lady Disdain: Julie Boulianne (Béatrice) spurns Sean Pannikar (Bénédict.)
Photo by Clive Grainger © 2011. Courtesy Opera Boston.

Opera Boston continues to delve into adventurous repertory with Hector Berlioz' rarely heard Shakespeare opera Beatrice et Bénédict. Distilled from the pages of Much Ado About Nothing, the opera focuses on the romantic sparring of its two title characters. Tuesday night's performance, reviewed here, was the last of the run at the Majestic Theater. 

Tenor Sean Pannikar and mezzo Julie Boulianne made their company debuts in the title roles. Mr. Pannikar has a clear, pleasing tenor that compresses slightly when he rises above the stave. Forced to switch between sung French and spoken English for the duration of the opera, Mr. Pannikar's performance took flight the Shakespeare text yielded to Berlioz' music.

Ms. Boulianne faced similar problems, delivering the spoken dialogue with awkward flourishes. Her fine-pointed, dusky mezzo was suited to Béatrice's pert nature, but her mannerisms made this a difficult heroine to love. She improved in the second act, singing the gorgeous trio and bringing real warmth to her reconciliation and eventual marriage.

Although Béatrice is the opera's titular heroine, her cousin Hero (soprano Heather Buck) gets some of the best music to sing. The Nocturne, sung by Hero and her handmaiden Ursule, (Kelley O'Connor) wove a spell of Berliozian magic. In a manner reminiscent of the Dance of the Sylphs in La Damnation de Faust, it brought Act one to a subtle, gorgeous close.

One of Berlioz' better additions to the play is Somarone, a music master played here by baritone Andrew Funk. A conductor/composer (like Berlioz himself), this fellow's preening, fawning behavior allowed the composer to have little fun at the expense of his profession. Mr. Funk played the part for laughs, particularly the Wagnerian bit about using a particular baton to create darkness and light from his orchestra. As his performers left in disgust, one thought of Haydn's Farewell Symphony. Finally, he led the Act II Improvisation (a bawdy drinking-song) with gusto.

This is Berlioz' fourth and final opera, and his second entry in the genre of opéra-comique. In this style, spoken dialogue is used instead of recitative, interpolated between the arias and ensembles. Since French speech is usually delivered at a rapid clip, it can be challenging for an American audience to follow, even with surtitles.

The solution chosen here was to use an English translation, culled mostly from Shakespeare's text by director David Kneuss. Mr. Kneuss' treatment of the text was difficult for the actors. The characters delved in and out of Shakespeare's idiom, in a struggle to meet the needs of the libretto. The production moved the action to a 20th-century setting, in sets suggesting a Tuscan villa was a low-budget nod to Kenneth Branagh's movie version of the play.

All of the singers seemed uncomfortable delivering the dialogue, with even the lesser members of the cast falling prey to over-exaggeration. In the pit, music director Gil Rose did his best to compensate. Although the famous overture was curiously muted, the later pages of the opera sparkled, and the final double-marriage scene ended the evening on an upbeat note.

Opera Review: Hunk City

The new Don Giovanni at the Met.

"Nobody move or the baritone gets it!"
Peter Mattei as Don Giovanni (with knife) threatens Luca Pisaroni's Leporello.
Photo by Marty Sohl © 2011 The Metropolitan Opera.

The Metropolitan Opera's new Don Giovanni has been beset by injuries. First, music director James Levine was replaced by new principal conductor Fabio Luisi. Then the star, rising "bari-hunk" Mariusz Kwiecien injured his back at the dress rehearsal, three days before the premiere.

Luckily, the Met had the also-hunky Peter Mattei on the roster this year, singing Figaro in Il Barbiere di Siviglia.. But with almost no time to prepare, rehearse, or work with Mr. Grandage, Mr. Mattei's vocally handsome performance felt like he had stepped in from another production. That said, he sang a lovely, genuinely seductive "Deh! vieni alla finestra." in the second act, and cut a striking figure in the fiery climax.

With the Don a cipher, the role of leading man falls to Leporello, sung by Luca Pisaroni. Mr. Pisaroni raises the energy level whenever he is onstage. The servant is as lecherous as his master, played with a curiously moral core that is straight out of Beaumarchais. Mr. Pisaroni brought a raw vitality to the proceedings, and has the makings of a great Don himself.

Michael Grandage's direction has the singers manage the negative space between their characters. The air seems to crackle between the pairs: Ottavio and Anna, Masetto and Zerlina. The opera's best couple? The disguised Leporello (posing as the Don) and Donna Elvira, played as a slightly manic stalker by the talented Barbara Frittoli. 

Don Ottavio is the weakest character in this opera. (Mr. Grandage compensated by arming him heavily.) Ramón Vargas' best weapon though, was his voice, a smooth, supple tenor that sang Ottavio's two difficult arias without seeming to pause for breath. The "optional" Act II aria  "Il mio tesero" was outstanding, with all of the ornamentation brought out and shining. 

Two young sopranos make their Met debuts in this run. Marina Rebeka sang "Non mi dir" with control and strong, if slightly shrill tone. At least she made Donna Anna more than a one-note character. Mojca Erdmann was a Zerlina from the coquette school, with a voice too small for the cavernous house. As Masetto Mr. Bloom, (a budding bari-hunk), made the most of playing a wife-beating shmo. Stefan Kocán's serviceable Commendatore would be better without the amplified echo on his voice in the graveyard scene. 

This is an urban Don Giovanni. The streets of Seville are presented on Christopher Oram's rotating set, consisting of high, curved tiers of multi-colored, louvred doors, each with its own balcony. (It looks like a seedy motel.) Occasionally, the "motel" opens to reveal a large courtyard, used for the wedding reception, the cemetery, and the Don's villa. The best visual: during the Catalogue Song, when all the doors open to reveal the Don's conquests in a manner reminiscent of Bartók's Bluebeard's Castle.  

Conducting from the harpsichord (and playing the continuo himself) Fabio Luisi made a case for his recent promotion, alternating between light comedy and the orchestral firestorm in the opera's climactic scene. The hellfire whooshed out of the stage, threatening to incinerate Mr. Pisaroni as Mr. Mattei was dragged down through a hole in the floor. But Mr. Luisi proved that the real heat was in Mozart's music, not in rock concert special effects.