Opera Review: Angels and Insects

The Met attempts to pin down Madama Butterfly.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The bad lieutenant: Pinkerton (Roberto Aronica) peeps on Butterfly (Hui He) on their wedding night.
Photo by Ken Howard © 2017 The Metropolitan Opera.

There is no argument with the artistic or aesthetic success of the Metropolitan Opera’s current production of Madama Butterfly. It was the first production launched under the aegis of current general manager Peter Gelb and remains the greatest success of his administration. As envisioned by the late director Anthony Minghella, it was a revaluation and revolution for the venerable opera house. The show returned Thursday night, to find a very different state of affairs in the little house in Nagasaki.

Metropolitan Opera Preview: Madama Butterfly

A revival of Anthony Minghella's evocative staging.
by Paul J. Pelkonen.

My son, the puppet. Kristine Opolais in Act III of Madama Butterfly.
Photo by Marty Sohl © 2015 The Metropolitan Opera.

Anthony Minghella's spare production of Madama Butterfly reduced the opera to a bright wash of colors and fabrics against a spare black acting surface. Two casts appear this season. Aña Maria Martinez has stepped in to replace Hei-Kyung Hong opposite Massimo Giordano in the first run of performances and Kristine Opolais with Roberto Alagna in the second.

Metropolitan Opera Preview: La bohème

The timeless and much-repaired Zeffirelli production is back for three runs.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Upper West Side real estate. Sleeps four. Act I of La bohème.
Photo by Ken Howard © 2010 The Metropolitan Opera.

To its credit, the Metropolitan Opera is pretty good about stocking its frequent revivals of La Bohème with solid casts of singers who do a wonderful job with Puccini's too-familiar score. This year's revival features three seperate casts, with Rámon Vargas and Bryan Hymel each taking on the role of the ardent poet Rodolfo who falls head-over-notebook for the seamstress Mímí in belle epoque Paris.

Metropolitan Opera Preview: Turandot

Three very different casts and three runs for Puccini's final opera. 
by Paul J. Pelkonen

The executioner Pu-Tin-Pao (Left) confronts a giant Chinese dragon in the first act
of the Metropolitan Opera's production of Puccini's Turandot.
Photo by Marty Sohl © 2015 The Metropolitan Opera.

This umpteenth revival of the Metropolitan Opera's everything-into-the-wok Franco Zeffirelli production of Puccini's Turandot appears in three separate runs this season. Christine Goerke, Lise Lindstrom, Jennifer Wilson and Nina Stemme are the four formidable sopranos who will sing the hellishly difficult title role. This is one of the last surviving Zeff productions in the Met repertory along with La bohéme, and is a feast for the eyes as well as the ears.

Opera Review: Out of the Chrysalis

The Met's new Butterfly spreads her wings.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Cherries jubilee: Amanda Echalaz is radiant as the Met's new Butterfly.
Photo by Ken Howard © 2014 The Metropolitan Opera.

Madama Butterfly is cursed twice. The role is long and difficult, with plenty of exposed passages where the voice has to lead the orchestral accompaniment and convey the wide range of emotions suffered by the title character. The fact that it is one of the most iconic and best-loved parts in the repertory only adds to the challenge for any singer. Adding one more turn to the screw is the popularity and success of this production by the late Anthony Minghella, one of the few new productions of the Peter Gelb era to receive universal praise from the finicky Metropolitan Opera audience.

Metropolitan Opera Preview: La Rondine

The Met presents the return of Puccini's bittersweet rarity.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

On the couch: Kristine Opilais as Magda in La Rondine.
Image © 2013 The Metropolitan Opera.

La Rondine ("The Swallow") is not a complicated story, but it has the misfortune of being neither tragedy (nobody dies) nor comedy (it has a sad ending). The opera falls between two stools, and as a result has never earned a place at the table.

Rare bird though it is, this is still a mature product of Giacomo Puccini's later years. (It premiered in 1917, and follows La Fanciilla del West in the composer's catalogue.) Puccini's heady music is redolent of the gilded age, depicting the world of a "kept woman" in early 20th century Paris with gorgeous dance rhythms. There are parts for two leading sopranos--and two leading tenors.

This stylish production was originally conceived in 2008 for the so-called "love couple," Angela Gheorghiu and Roberta Alagna. With Ms. Gheorghiu currently persona non grata at Peter Gelb's Met (not to mention in the middle of a nasty divirce with Mr. Alagna) this revival offers Kristine Opilais her chance for a house debut. Giuseppe Filianoti is Ruggero, the man she loves and ultimately, rejects.

La Rondine opens Jan. 11, 2013.

Opera Review: A Golden Turandot

Reposted from The Classical Review.
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Maria Guleghina as the Princess Turandot. Photo by Marty Sohl © 2012 The Metropolitan Opera.

The Metropolitan Opera celebrates the 25th anniversary of the 
company’s over-the-top 1987 Franco Zeffirelli production of Puccini’s 
Turandot this year. At Wednesday’s opening night, the show 
looked and sounded surprisingly fresh, serving as a gilt framework for an evening of tremendous vocal performances from the three principals.

Read the whole review by Superconductor's Paul J. Pelkonen, exclusively on The Classical Review.

Chinese Bureaucracy

A short reflection on Puccini's birthday.

Your yuan at work: Eduardo Valdes (Pong) Joshua Hopkins (Ping) and Tony Stevenson (Pang)
in Act II of Turandot. Photo by Marty Sohl © 2009 The Metropolitan Opera.

Today we celebrate the 153rd birthday of composer Giacomo Puccini, the last of an iconic line of Italian opera composers. And I'm celebrating by focusing on an opera he never finished: (my first opera ever) Turandot.

It all started with Puccini for me. My parents took me to see Turandot at the New York City Opera when I was just nine years old. I don't remember everything about it, but I did like it enough to want to see La bohème a few weeks later. This was back when City Opera had their performances in the summer, so my parents had the time to take me.

Although Puccini's last opera, a blood-thirsty mixture of fairy-tale and Asian exoticism, is not the ideal starter opera, the story appealed to me. It was about riddles and solving problems, and the guy got the girl in the end. Of course, it's a little different when you're grown up, but I was hooked, and hooked early.

Two things stuck with me about that Turandot. First, the riddles. I spent hours poring over them in the libretto, trying to fathom why the answers were "fire," "blood," and "Turandot." The second was the three "masque" characters of Ping, Pang and Pong, who serve as a miniature Greek chorus, commenting on the action and presenting the face of Chinese government bureaucracy.

I know that everybody waits with baited breath for "In questa reggia," the Riddle Scene or the famous "Nessun dorma." But for me, Turandot is all about "Ho una casa nell'Honan", a moment of relative peace in the lives of three bureaucrats stuck in the middle of the Chinese court. Here, Ping (the Grand Chancellor), Pang (the General Purveyor) and Pong (the Chief Cook) long for the simple pleasures of country life.

This is their featured scene from Act II, Scene 1 of the Met's Franco Zeffirelli production, filmed on April 4, 1987. Brian Schexnayder is Ping. Alan Glassman is Pang. Anthony Lanciura is Pong. 

Enjoy.

Opera Review: Giving Mary Magdalene a Black Eye

Dicapo Opera celebrates 30 years with Tosca.

Kristin Sampson stars in Tosca.
Photo by Sarah Shatz. courtesy Dicapo Opera.

There is a moment in Act I of Tosca that I've never seen, until last night. It came when the title character (played by Kristin Sampson) nagged her lover Mario Cavaradossi to paint the eyes of Mary Magdelene black, (like hers) instead of blue. 

In this new production by Dicapo general director Michael Capasso, (staged in celebration of the Upper East Side company's 30th year) Cavaradossi  (played by tenor Peter Gage Furlong) actually mixed paint and blackened Mary's eyes, succumbing to Tosca's demands. It was just one of many small details that made this modest version of Puccini's opera a success. 

If you're not familiar with Dicapo, this company puts on operas in a small "jewel box" theater on W. 76th St. in the basement of St. Jean Baptiste Church. Founded in 1981, it has proved a valuable resource for lovers of chamber operas, modern works of modest size, and repertory favorites staged with an intimacy unavailable at the 4,000-seat Met. 

Kristin Sampson is an experienced singer in this house. She struck the right balance between fiery passion and loopy rage as Floria Tosca. She was tender in the first act, growling and determined in the second (with a pause for a lyric "Vissi d'arte") and positively loopy in the third. In her scene with Cavaradossi on the battlements, she seemed unusually collected as she explained the "staged" execution that was to come. But you could see the doubt in Mr. Furlong's eyes.

Mr. Furlong started with a lovely "Recondita armonia," keeping his lyric tenor voice right in the passagio. He had one shrill moment in the Act I duet with Tosca, when he lifted his voice up to its full height and found that its top was lacking in bloom. Like may tenors before him, he was defeated by "Vittoria!" the stentorian mini-aria that Puccini, (Scarpia-like) may have added just to torment his singers. But "E lucevan le stelle" shone forth in all its glory, with real emotion in the cavalier's farewell to life.

Guido LeBrón's Scarpia was not particularly suave, or seductive. He might have been more at home in Roberti's torture chamber, tightening the spikes himself during the interrogation scene. But he struck an imposing figure in his Act I entrance, thundering out his lust for Tosca in the middle of the Te deum. The second act revealed the police chief as a drooling psychopath, nearly raping Tosca as the room (a turntable set) literally spun around them. His death was staged in the same whirling, distracting manner.

Although the sound of Puccini-sized voices in a small theater can result in balance problems, this Tosca was blessed with a good supporting cast This extended to the smallest roles, with a good performance  from character tenor George Kaserjian (a Mime-like Spoleta) and up-and-coming bass Brandon Coleman in the brief, ill-fated role of Angelotti. The choral work was solid.

It worked well for the Te deum, but the noisy turntable set proved distracting in the later acts, offering different views of the action but putting obstructing scenery in the way of the audience's line of site. In the second and third acts, Puccini's complex orchestrations were forced to battle with mechanical noise. In a small opera house like this one, less is sometimes more.

Opera Review: Storming the Capital

Tosca at the Washington National Opera

Extraordinary rendition: Baron Scarpia (Alan Held, right) terrorizes Tosca (Patricia Racette.)
Photo by Scott Suchman © 2011 Washington National Opera

Thursday night's performance of the Washington National Opera's current run of Tosca featured the dynamic presence of soprano Patricia Racette in the title role, opposite the dastardly Scarpia of baritone Alan Held. Legendary super-tenor Placido Domingo, the company's former director, conducted.

The production (imported to the nation's capital from the Dallas Opera) opened with a sharply drawn, well-played church scene, that, despite a few muffs in the orchestral pit, climaxed in a mighty Te Deum. The multi-leveled church set may have seemed like an odd idea, but it kept the crowd of bishops, churchgoers and choirboys well above the main stage, allowing Mr. Held to dominate the action. Tenor Frank Porretta sang a careful "Recondita armonia." His first scene with Ms. Racette had some spark, but their great love affair did not ignite.

The confrontation between Scarpia and Tosca in Act II was the centerpiece of the evening. Ms Racette, decked out in a tiara and gown that recalled the costuming of the late Maria Callas, fought bravely for the life of her beloved Mario Cavaradossi, the painter who has run afoul of the law. Mr. Held, in a black and silver frock coat, swung between oily charm and grinning, lupine cruelty as he toyed with Tosca in an ill-fated attempt to ravish the diva.


This scene boasts one of Puccini's biggest hits: Tosca's lament "Vissi d'arte." For this famous aria. Ms. Racette eschewed the traditional Callas-style sprawl across the stage, choosing to sit, shattered and grief stricken as she produced the first notes of the aria. As the vocal line changed, climbed and soared, Ms. Racette gathered fresh power, moving the audience with the depth of Tosca's conflict and the impossible choice she faced.

Anyone familiar with Tosca knows that this scene ends in bloodshed--when the diva stabs the evil police chief with a dinner knife and takes the signed pass that (may) allow her and Cavaradossi to escape. The entire scene burst with kinetic energy, and enough chemistry between Mr. Held and Ms. Racette to suggest that in another, non-Puccini universe, that the copper and the show-stopper had the makings of a smoking couple.

Mr. Porretta has a promising instrument. But the singer lackedthe ringing, clear notes necessary to cut a convincing figure as Cavaradossi. Puccini lovers hold their breath for big moments like the "Vittoria!" monologue or the final bars of "E lucevan la stella," but neither number carried the force and conviction that makes this character go from a dilettante painter, to a fiery revolutionary, to a martyr in the course of three acts. He was better in his Act III duet scene with Ms. Racette, singing "O dolce mani" with affection instead of irony.

With its massed Act I chorus, offstage cantata in Act II and Act III sunrise over Rome, Tosca presents a serious challenge to any conductor. Puccini packed dense ideas into the score's pages. For the most part, Plácido Domingo did an effective job in the Kennedy Center pit, However, there was an audible, muffed brass cue in the first act and the last section of the Te Deum failed to achieve blast-off. The climax, with Tosca's leap to oblivion, was tautly presented, traditional, and most satisfying.

Last night's performance was the subject of a live telecast shown on a big screen at nearby Nationals Park, the home of Washington DC's Major League Baseball team, the Washington Nationals. In a gesture to the fans watching the show from the ballpark, Mr. Held remained in costume, joining the entire cast for a rare bow after Act III. Along with Mr. Domingo, the artists donned scarlet Nationals hats for a photo-op. However, Mr. Domingo tossed his into the audience.

Opera Review: Farce, In Any Language

L'heure Espagnole and Gianni Schicchi at Juilliard
by Paul Pelkonen

Costume design for Don Iñigo Gomez in  L'heure Espagnole.
Design and drawing by Vita Tyzkun  © 2011 The Juilliard School.

On Wednesday night, the Juilliard Opera finished their strong season with an unusual pairing of one-act comedies by Ravel and Puccini. Juilliard alumna Keri-Lynn Wilson conducted both operas in razor-sharp performances, expertly played and timed.

Time is at the heart of Ravel's L'heure Espagnole ("The Spanish Hour.") This is the story of an unfaithful clockmaker's wife (Cecilia Hall) who juggles three suitors while her husband is out setting the city clocks each week. This is pure French farce, with two of the would-be lovers hiding themselves in large clocks, while the studly young muleteer (Andreas Andriotis) carries them up and down the stairs.


Ms. Hall shone as Concepción, the young wife who is considering the poet Gonzalve (Daniel T. Curran) and the banker Don Iñigo Gomez (Alexander Hajek) who finds himself locked in his clock. The opera was lightly played, with crisp ensemble singing and a tight account of Ravel's intricate score.

This fine cast switched places for Puccini's Gianni Schicchi, with Mr. Hajek taking the title role. He made a brash, memorable Schicchi, with good comic acting and a commanding presence. He made Schicchi's ode to Florence (where he warns the gathered relatives of the perils of their scheme to rewrite the will of the deceased Buoso Donati) the emotional heart of the piece, displaying a fine lyric baritone laced with poisonous wit. And the idea of having Schicchi cue the light changes and set the scene? Perfect.


The Korean soprano Jung van Noon, a student of the great Renata Scotto, made a stellar impression as Lauretta. Her "O mio babbino caro" was sung with such melting beauty that half the audience (not knowing where the piece ended) applauded early. She made the prospect of throwing herself into the Arno River a realistic one, arching into the high phrases and pouring out the heartfelt emotion that is required for convincing Puccini.

Schicchi and daughter were surrounded by a memorable group of players. Daniel T. Curran was Rinuccio, Lauretta's suitor and the one good egg in the rotten Donati basket. Timothy Beenken and Carla Jablonski were strong as Simone and La Cieca, the oldest members of the family with their sights set on the biggest shares of the estate. The other members of he company gave good comic performances, including a brief, hilarious cameo by character tenor Said Pressley as the hapless Doctor.

Andreas Aroditis returned as the notary Amantio, a shady figure in leather and aviators. As appropriate for this modern-dress program, he was flanked by two straight-outta-Brooklyn witnesses: Pinnelino "the cobbler"(Drew Santini) and Guccio "The Dyer" (Philip Stoddard. This comic trio upped the level of humor and intensity. As this comic confection whirled to a close, the audience was cheerfully prepared to forgive the hell-bound Gianni Schicchi for his schemes. And with singing like this, why not?