Opera Review: Straight Outta Mozart

The Met revives Der Rosenkavalier
by Paul J. Pelkonen

Renée Fleming (left) and Susan Graham in Act I of Der Rosenkavalier.
Image © 2009 The Metropolitan Opera.

The Metropolitan Opera's current revival of its 1969 production of Der Rosenkavalier is a spectacular evening of Strauss, more than compensating for the bungled Tosca that hit the headlines at the start of the 2009 season.

Alicia de Larrocha, 1923-2009

The great Spanish pianist Alicia de Larrocha died today. She was 86. Ms. de Larrocha was one of the premiere Mozart stylists of the 20th century. She also did much for the piano music of her native Spain, recording major works by Albéniz and Granados, cementing their place in the repertory. While famous for her Mozart and Haydn, she could tackle the big works of Liszt and Rachmaninoff with ease.

Ms. de Larrocha was born in 1923 and made her American recital debut in 1955. She died in a hospital in Barcelona. According to family friend Gregor Benko, her health had been declining since she suffered a broken hip two years ago.

On a personal note, I had the privilege of seeing Ms de Larrocha play in a concert performance at Carnegie Hall, about ten years ago. A diminutive woman, (she stood only 4'9") she was a formidable musical presence, whose liquid legato and precise phrasing infused joy into all of her performances. Over the course of her long career (she made her concert debut at 5 and her first Chopin recordings at the age of 9), she was a beacon of elegance and refinement in the often showy, male-dominated world of concert pianism.

Concert Review: Alan Gilbert conducts Mahler's Third

New maestro does orchestra's Mahler tradition proud.

Alan Gilbert. Photo © 2009 by Chris Lee.

On Tuesday night, freshly minted New York Philharmonic music director Alan Gilbert led his forces in a sweeping performance of Gustav Mahler's mammoth Third Symphony. It was the orchestra's new leadership meeting its old, as Mahler ranks among the most famous music directors in the long history of the Philharmonic.

Despite its enormous size, the Third is an accessible Mahler symphony, setting aside the nightmares and religious ecstasy for a stately contemplation of nature, from the thunderous, primal birth of life to the heavenly realms and the mind of God. It is a dizzying ride, and Mr. Gilbert led his gigantic orchestra, double chorus, offstage musicians and mezzo-soprano, all without the benefit of a written score.

Judging from his podium performance on Tuesday night, Mr. Gilbert is an inspired technical conductor with an ear for the subtle textures that are often lost in the huge, blaring pages of the first movement. At thirty minutes, this is music for giants. It stops and starts, alternating enormous fanfares with huge slabs of chords and mysterious mutterings in the double basses and bass drums. Mahler's music evokes the mountains bursting forth from the earth, the awakening of the god Pan, and the swinging, brassy arrival of spring as the orchestra transforms not a gigantic marching band.

The remaining five movements of the symphony are on a smaller scale. Mr. Gilbert brought out in the delicate floral textures of the second movement, and the cavorting, parading beasts (complete with a trumpet solo played from the back of Avery Fisher Hall) in the third. Mezzo-soprano Petra Lang lent a mysterious gravity to the sung fourth movement, which fuses the primal rumblings of the first with a setting of Nietzsche. The fifth and sixth movements followed without pause, a choral setting of one of the Wunderhorn songs and a final cosmic movement dominated by the strings and brass..

The hiring of the 42-year old Mr. Gilbert represents a new start . He is a native New Yorker--the first to hold this post. He is the son of two Philharmonic musicians, and his mother, Yoko Takebe, still holds a chair in the violin section. (His father, also a Philharmonic violinist, is retired.) Finally, he is a gifted conductor with a bent for fearlessly programming new music. If Tuesday night's Mahler performance was any indication, the oldest orchestra in North America will be in good hands for many years to come.

CD Review: Aida in the Temple of Doom

This 1983 Aida is made with the usual cast of Deutsche Grammophon suspects. Once again, Claudio Abbado leads the proceedings. He conducts another fine performance, watching his dynamic markings and occasionally outwitting the recording engineer to produce grand musical theater.

Despite the photo of Katia Ricciarelli that appeared on the front cover of the original LP and CD box sets, it is Domingo who is the star of this show. Here, (in the second of three studio recordings he made as Radames) he sounds positively restrained--especially when compared to Corelli or del Monaco. And that's a good thing. Sensitive and thoughtful in the opera's opening act, he opens up the pipes later on to let floods of passion come roaring forth. In the studio, he sings with a level of care that doesn't always come across in the opera house.


Katia Ricciarelli's portrayal of the title role veers from mild to wild at the start of "Ritorna, vincitor." This is a fine, well-sung dramatic performance that ranges between extreme self-loathing and the pathos necessary for a truly sympathetic Aida. Oddly, Ricciarelli seems to achieve this latter quality through shorter phrases, not the traditional legato lines that one often hears in the opera house. She is, like many of her fellow Ethiopian slave-girls, best heard on record.

As Amneris, Elena Obraztsova remains a controversial choice. The Russian mezzo made a lot of DG recordings in the '80s and they all feature that bludgeoning, thrusting voice, an impressive instrument that could punch its way over the orchestra. Here, one wonders if she is about to punch out that two-timing Radames. Lucia Valentini-Terrani is perfectly cast here as the singing priestess in the temple of Fthà. She's the best female performance on this record.

This entire performance sounds like it is being played in the same echoing acoustic that is usually reserved for the Temple scene in Act I. The effect is claustrophobic, with solo violins, harps and even choristers echoing forth into the pyramidal void. This is an approach to recording Aida that was done first (and better) by John Culshaw on the first Karajan recording in 1959. But at least Culshaw knew the art of self-retraint. Dynamic ranges are extreme on this recording--the pianissimi are nearly inaudible and the big moments are right in your face--or eardrums--especially that final "Immenso Fthà!"