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• Minkowski - live and in broadcast

In a few hours, I'll be seeing Marc Minkowski and the Musiciens du Louvre here in Brasília (yes, miracles do happen). While I wait for the concert, I am listening to this amazing Mitridate from Salzburg. Together with Norrington's Idomeneo, the outstanding features in a tepid Anniversary Festival. As always, Minkowski's ear for dramatic details in the orchestra is exemplary, his band is one of the most exciting around and he has an excellent cast. Although Netta Or is not typically lovely-toned, she is a resourceful, technically accomplished and imaginative, offering an expressive rendition of the role of Aspasia. Next to her, Miah Persson offers a more immediately appealing if less heroic soprano and proves to have a fluency with forceful coloratura I didn't expect from her. Minkowski shows the role of Ismene under a more tender light (especially in her first aria) and Ingela Bohlin is aptly creamy-toned. I must confess I have listened to Bejun Mehta in better shape, but even in his less impressive shape, he has no rivals in his strong low register in the role of Farnace. Last but definitely not least, Richard Croft confirms his reputation with a superbly and intensely sung Mitridate. I read that many performances from this year's Festival will be released on DVD; if this one is not among them, record companies have made a serious mistake.

- Back from the concert and still under the spell. I believe I am entitled to say that there can't be a more dramatic performance of Idomeneo's ballet music and of Symphonies no. 40 and 41. If the outer movements were predictably exuberant with fiery passagework playing and bold accents, the inner movements passed straight through prettiness and achieved real pathos, especially the andante cantabile (41). I find it praiseworthy that Minkowski has tried really hard to give variety of tone colour to the andante (40), a movement that may pass unnoticed amidst the Sturm und Drang excitement of the other movements. As an encore, a spirited account of the second moviment Haydn's symphony no. 101. When you see Les Musiciens du Louvre play, you understand why they achieve such level of Einverständnis - it is because these people obviously relate to each other. You would often see musicians look at each other and exchange congenial glances while they played - and that these glances reveal an attitude about what they are playing. Sometimes this doesn't occur in a traditional orchestra because the thrill is long gone and musicians are just waiting for the conductor to tell them the concept.

Saturday, October 21st 2006

• Handel from Glyndenbourne

A review of William Christie's DVD of Handel's Giulio Cesare has been added to the discography, together with comments on Harnoncourt's old highlights disc for Teldec.

Thursday, October 19th 2006

• Still messing with the Mass

Some months ago I have listened through all my recordings of Mozart's Mass K 427 and made some comments. Having added Herreweghe's, Karajan's and Louis Langrée's recordings to my collection, I feel like making some comments.

Karajan's recording on DG is considered by many a classic - and there is some truth in that. If you want massive orchestral sound, a big choir and gravitas - this is your performance. Tempi tend to be slower, but there is clarity aplenty. I've decided to compare it with Levine, whose orchestral phrasing lacks definition, not to mention that the chorus lacks discipline. Abbado is far more buoyant and precise, but the recorded sound is too artifficial. Also, Karajan has the best soloists in the discography. This is probably Barbara Hendricks's best recording - she sings affectingly, stylishly and her tone is at its most velvety. Janet Perry is less imaginative, but sings with instrumental poist and brightness even in the lowest reaches of the tessitura. Their voices blend beautifully and both Peter Schreier and Benjamin Luxon are up to their high standards.

However, it is Louis Langrée who offers what probably is the definitive recording of this difficult piece. His approach is impressively dramatic, with theatrical gestures and amazing sense of atmosphere. Sometimes, this is made at the expense of detail, but the expressive quality of the choral singing is particularly admirable. Thank God the recorded sound is natural! And there is Natalie Dessay's paramount rendition of the part of soprano I. Some snobs may find too much personality for a performance of sacred music, but even they won't be able to deny that nobody can sing this better than she does here. Véronique Gens usually makes strong partnership with Dessay - and so she does here. She brings her usual elegance and utter musicianship, but in these fast tempi some of the florid lines seem to make her a bit nervous. Topi Lehtipuu and Luca Pisaroni complete the excellent team of soloists. Naturally, this recording demands comparison with William Christie's, who offers more polished orchestral sound, but his chorus does not match the Concert d'Astrée's, not to mention that his team of soloists is overall less accomplished and interesting. His dance-like approach, however, stands the competition of Langrée's bold and intense performance.

Herreweghe's beautiful recording sounds polished and lacking forward movement compared to both French recordings. He has a lovely and sensitive soprano I in Christiane Oelze, but Jennifer Larmore's mezzo is too thick and dark for this music, what impares perfect ensemble with Oelze's plummy light soprano.

Sunday, October 15th 2006

• Salzburg fights back

I have written about how disappointing broadcasts from this year's Salzburg Festival have been - but I have to say that Roger Norrington, now neglected by the international musical press, seems to be the redeemer of the anniversary performances in Mozart's birthplace. His reading of Idomeneo is short of revelatory - absolute clarity with the purpose of highlighting how all the dramatic cues are produced in the orchestral pit. He was also lucky to find the best cast in this Festival. Ekaterina Siurina is a crystalline Ilia - she could be more varied, but her instrumental phrasing is most appealing. Magdalena Kozena has improved her Idamante - now more appropriately incisive and forceful than a couple of years ago - to optimal levels. In the recognition scene, the development from misery, through joyous surprise to bitter disappointment was made entirely through tone-colouring and word-pointing while keeping classical purity was masterly built. I have wondered why Ramón Vargas has not sung the role of Idomeneo more often - the part fits his voice like a glove. It is true, howeverthat the long version of Fuor del Mar left him somewhat breathless, even if his divisions were decently produced. He even decided to resort to some dangerous (and rather unnecessary) upwards decoration. As for Anja Harteros, she is an efficient Elektra, although her voice lacks some loveliness for Idol mio and a more focused and bright tone for the remaining arias.

• More Mozart

Revies of Wentz's Clemenza di Tito and Leinsdorf's Così have been added to the discography.

Saturday, October 14th 2006

• Back to Brasília

Having survived a busy schedule in New York, it is time to listen to my new CDs and watch some new DVDs. I'll be writing about them soon. Beside the events at the Met and the NYCO, I had the opportunity to see Lorin Maazel conduct the New York Philharmonic (in great shape since he has taken over the orchestra) in a Ravel/Saint-Saëns programme. Before a powerful rendition of the Organ Symphony, Maazel offered a crystalline if cold approach to L'Enfant et les Sortilèges. The choir had poor French, but the soloists were very good - particularly Suzanne Mentzer, spirited if a bit thick-toned as the child and Patrizia Ciofi, thoroughly musicianly and technically accomplished as the fire/the princess/the nightingale. Some of her floated high notes were really haunting, even if the voice is a bit on the smoky side.

It is a bit early for the theatre season, but the Roundabout Theatre production of George Bernard Shaw's Heartbreak House fulfilled my theatrical needs entirely. Knowing that he has a sensational cast (especially Laila Robins as Lady Unterwood), director Robin Lefevre gave his actors pride of place instead of looking for effects - thus one of Shaw's most original texts could be savoured by the audience without any interference of a pseudo-imaginative Dramaturg.

Here are some photos from NY.

Monday, October 9th 2006

• Magic but not enchanting

If you miss the 80's and its glitter and glamour, then Julie Taymor's Zauberflöte is your staging. Sometimes one might think this has been originally staged at Florent at Gansevoort Street - a bunch of unusual people surrounded by neon lighting. The rest of the concept has to do with keeping singers busy and when this is impossible, getting some dolls on stage to provide the fun. It must be distracting for the cast - especially when conductor Scott Bergeson's mechanical rendition of the score often left singers (and the chorus) behind the beat.

Although Isabel Bayrakdarian's creaminess of tone and richness of middle register invite immediate fondness, it is impossible not to notice her poor discipline - she is a bit free with pitch and rhythm and her upper notes require some preparation. It is a pity, since she is is exceptionally well-equipped for this repertoire and could have been a remarkable Pamina. I cannot say the same of the Queen of the Night. Erika Miklosa's tone is quite unsubstantial and - in the fast tempi provided by the conductor - her runs were quite smeared. That said, she really manages her high staccato notes with impressive accuracy.

Maybe because there are not many outstanding Mozart lyric tenors around these days (the good ones generally end singing La Traviata or Rigoletto), I have noticed a growing tendency towards casting the part with jugendlich dramatisch tenors. Considering the limitation in mellowness and tone-colouring involved in this option, Jonas Kaufmann acquited himself very well - he can hold a clean line and showed some flexibility. As for Nathan Gunn, it would be mean to concentrate in the inbuilt roughness of his vocal production. He has the necessary charm and buoyance for Papapgeno. In the part of Sarastro, Stephen Milling proved to be a functional choice - he is a true bass, but his technique is irregular and the results were simply unenlightening. Both Volker Vogel and Eike Wim Schulte were excellent as Monostatos and the Speaker and trio of ladies, quite good.

Saturday, October 7th 2006

• Piccole cose on a large stage

The shining symbol of the Met's new management, Anthony Minghella's production of Puccini's Madama Butterfly has been originally designed for the English National Opera - and this may account for the show's main virtue and main drawback. There is no doubt this is an imaginative and exquisite staging, but when you decide to focus on intimacy in a gigantic venue, the inevitable result is that it all feels quite distant. The whole staging involves Japanese sliding doors that might have worked to perfection in the more modest London Coliseum. At the Met, they are dwarfed by the stage proportions and - worse than that - you can see what's behind them if your seats are in the upper levels of the auditorium. Also, one could have the impression the director did not know what to do with all those square meters available: the action often concentrates in a restricted area and the rest is abandoned to "minimalism". As a matter of fact, the only moment when one feels that the proceedings were blown up out of "chamber staging" proportions is the truly poetic love duet, when the events on stage joined the gradual crescendo produced in the pit. The share of responsibility Minghella has in that is debatable - when it comes to actor's directing, then one has to concede that the leading character is very difficult to portray. Making it doll-like thoroughly throughout is not a new approach - only one that turns down the drama, especially with an orchestra adjusting to small-caliber soloists. Some may point out that Ascher Fisch's conducting was coloristic and transparent; others would say that this is the result of a muffled strings.

From the point-of-view of interpretation, Cristina Gallardo-Domâs is a complete success. She masters the style, knows how to create the necessary girly impression, knowingly colours the text and has an emotional connection with the dramatic situations. However, there is not an ounce of "spinto-quality" in her essentially lyric soprano. Of course, she happens to be one in a long line of lyric sopranos in this role - Victoria de los Angeles being the most famous example. That said, the legendary Spanish singer was smart to resist the temptation of emulating a more dramatic voice for the important moments, keeping her natural bright sound to pierce through the orchestra. Gallardo-Domâs surrenders to the moment - and hers is indeed sizeable enough a voice for that - and loses tonal quality and denies herself operational space. The main evidence of that was an Un bel dì verging on indifference, the singer more concentrated on technical aspects, on managing energy in order to survive climaxes. The rest of the cast contented themselves to stay in the shadow of their charismatic prima donna: Maria Zifchak out of her natural Fach and very foreign to Italian language and Marcelo Giordani displaying a constricted vocal production, but lots of natural Italianate charm. Only Dwayne Craft showed some determination to win over the audience driving his handsome baritone with charm and sensitivity through Puccinian lines.

Thursday, October 5th 2006

• Playing safe with passions

Ponchielli's La Gioconda goes to the shortlist of operas that still correspond to most people's prejudiced ideas about accidentally funny plots, incidentally beautiful tunes and seriously obese people. Peter Gelb's new ideas about the Met must have something to do about being proud of that and, thus, Margherita Wallman's production has been taken out of the closet (where it has been hanging since 1989, already an antique those days) and proudly paraded to this new century's audiences, who felt enthusiastic enough to applaud Beni Montresor's Fearless Vampire Killers-like settings. I have to confess that I cannot imagine Gioconda being staged otherwise - an Eurotrash staging involving terrorists, the explosion of an airport and oil tycoons (please, I am not suggesting anything!) would definitely spoil the fun. La Gioconda involves a very fragile concept which only survives in the hothouse of its proper aesthetics. Even Victor Hugo, the author of the play upon which the libretto was based, felt it necessary to defend this approach in a long prologue - by the way, far better reading than the play itself…

Truth be said, yesterday's evening champion - weird as it sound - is conductor Bertrand de Billy, who accomplished the miraculous feat of cleaning the score from the anachronic patina of verismo and bringing to the fore the echt Romantic colours in the orchestral writing. By doing that, he did not turn down the buttons of emotion, but showed the work under a far more sensitive lighting. His leading lady, Violeta Urmana, revealed a similar approach in her utterly musicianly, all-vulgarity-barred, but intense approach. Although I am an a priori admirer of hers, I still have to adjust to Urmana, the Italian soprano. There is no doubt she can handle the exposed high notes, the schyzophrenic tessitura, the occasional floated pianissimo (Madre! Enzo adorato! Ah, come t'amo!), even the impossible decorations of the closing scene (exquisitely, as a matter of fact), but there is an overall lack of morbidezza and the hallmark Italianate brightness in her singing that makes one compare her with famous exponents of the part while listening to her (excellent) performance. This could be dangerous when the seconda donna is Olga Borodina. Even if I had heard her upper register in more resplendent shape, hers is too commanding a vocal nature to resist. I felt tempted to say "too formidable" for Laura, but this seems to be the rule when it comes to casting this role. La Cieca is a role usually sunk into indifference, but Irina Mishura's powerful and handsome contralto procured her some of the best moments in the evening. When it comes to Aquiles Machado, a favourite with the audience, I cannot make my mind about what I think of his performance. His hearty and spontaneous tenor might be a balm for ears hurt by the barking type of tenor we have to deal with these days - and he is reasonably stylish for a singer in this repertoire - but the tone lacks some appeal. Maybe it is just the part of Enzo (as much as the role of Rodolfo in Hugo's play) being so uninteresting. As for Zeliko Lucic (there are lots of graphic signs in the middle of all that), his healthy authentic baritone (in opposition to beefed-up Don Giovannis) is certainly refreshing. This is a singer I would like to see again in a more congenial role: isn't Barnaba's "I have already killed your mom anyway" the sickest line in the history of opera? I cannot say I warm to the idea of seeing Paata Burchuladze in a big role - his singing has lost the sense of line and whenever he was on stage I had to look down for the Met's undertitles to get the faintest idea of what he was singing. I suppose I was not the only one in the auditorium not knowing by heart Arrigo Boito/Tobia Gorrio's libretto.

Wednesday, October 4th 2006

• Classical but not a classic

The release on DVD of Jean-Pierre Ponnelle's productions have revealed a sad truth - the approach has aged ungraciously. The whole aesthetics have sunk into kitsch and the repeated repressed laughter from various members of the audience yesterday at the Metropolitan Opera's revival has only reinforced that. To say the truth, I have never warmed to the sets, costumes and actors' direction featured on the DVD with Pavarotti, Von Stade, Behrens and Cotrubas - but these artists do help to focus the whole idea in a way nowadays singers will never manage to do - as much as Kate Beckinsale would never convince anyone that she could be Ava Gardner. Ponnelle's highly stylized and almost tautological staging requires larger-than-life personalities (not necessarily talents) to fill in the blanks true expression would otherwise provide. Take Hildegard Behrens's Elettra, for example. Without the German's soprano expressionistic intensity, it all looks quite ludicrous, empty gestures without any practical purpose and no particular beauty involved. Only an extraordinay musical performance would compensate the theatrical stolidness - and unfortunately that was not the case. Although James Levine proves that he still finds room to develop from his already excellent Mozartian standards, offering swift and intelligent conducting, the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra was not up to the conductor's level, especially the strings, almost invariably uncomfortable with fast divisions.

I often say Ilia is the main character - from the musical point of view - in Idomeneo, but an Idomeneo with two Ilias is hardly my idea of perfection in a performance of this work. Olga Makarina is a resourceful singer - her amazingly long breath comes dangerously close to show-off - but her soprano is too pretty and her attitude to well-behaved for this role. She could find some bite in her low register without resorting to awkward register break, but she lacks the kind of flash top notes and forcefulness that are the essence of this work. As a result, only Idol mio worked as required and going for a top note in the end of D'Oreste, d'Ajacce was the (cunning) resort to get the ovation this aria usually invites. Properly cast as Ilia, Dorothea Röschmann always impresses by her resourcefulness - hers is a warm, entirely homogeneous, flexible soprano, she is a stylish singer and is not afraid to trill. However, her voice has lost some of its former brightness and the fact that it grew more and more opaque during the performance makes me think she is overkilling these days. The most immediate symptom is an absence of legato that makes arias such as Zeffiretti lusinghieri less charming than usual. Although she is a very good actress, she seemed uncomfortable with the doll-like attitude required from her by the direction. I had never seen or heard Kristine Jepson before this performance and was most impressed by her thoroughly and stylishly sung Idamante. Her mezzo soprano is taylor-made for Mozartian trouser roles and she cuts a convincingly boyish figure on stage. On the other hand, Ben Heppner's tenor is hardly anyone's ideal for Idomeneo, but his artistic generosity and impressive vocal resources got him the audience's partiality. It is amazing that a tenor used to heavier repertoire still keeps his freshness of tone. Moreover, his ease in the lower reaches of the tessitura was exceptionally spontaneous. Not only did he tackled the more florid passages (albeit the laboured results), but also tried some decoration in b section. As Arbace, Jeffrey Francis was a bit more precise, but the tone was glaring in an unpleasant way. Stephen Milling was a convincingly dark and powerful Oracle.

Monday, October 1st 2006

• Top notes are a girl's best friends

Stephen Lawless's production of Handel's Semele for the New York City Opera does not avoid this work's ambiguous opera/oratorio nature - it brings this to the fore and makes it a virtue. The curtains open to reveal a theatre in the taste of the 1960's , where Semele and Athamas's engagement ceremony is presented in the shape of a concert performance, in which Semele is the temperamental prima donna. Being abducted by Jove trnsforms her in Marilyn Monroe and the rest of the show involves the triangle between Semele/Marilyn, Juno/Jackie O and Jove/JFK.

In order to make William Congreve's libretto fit into this American tragicomedy, the score endured a severe edition, in which almost the rest of the cast is reduced to comprimario status (those who actually sing something substantial respond for two roles, such as Juno/Ino and Cadmus/Somnus) and the remaining arias are often deprived their b sections and repeats. I can't say I approve the loss of so many bits of beautiful music, but it certainly helped "Semele, the play". An interesting idea was the replacement of Apollo by Jove himself in a sort of press conference. All in all, the director showed imagination, often hilarious ideas (laughter drawned singers now and then…), elegant and efficient sceneries and costumes - and he had a cast of good actor to make it work.

In the title role, Elizabeth Futral proved she is a consumate actress and she certainly has the looks and attitude for the part. Vocally speaking, her Semele was more functional than illuminating - her lyric soprano copes beautifully with coloratura, but her high register is too unfocused for comfort. In order to achieve purity of tone, she had to drain her singing from vibrato in a not unpleasant manner, truth be said. Her interpretation turned around coquetterie and she would now and then distort her tone for effects - in a way Kathleen Battle, for example, would not need to do, because the sexiness is inbuilt in her voice. As her rival (and also her sister), Vivica Genaux displayed a far more accomplished and stylish performance - and her also skills are almost most impressive. This was the first time I've seen this her live and, in the flesh, her voice does sound less artifficial (although her contralto extension has a strange colour to it and her top notes lack power).

When one casts the part of Jove with a Charaktertenor, nasal sounds and rebellious pitch are included items. Robert Breault is no exception. At least, he really tries to deal with his divisions and his hit number Where'er you walk was sung with true sense of line and affection. In the parts of Cadmus and Somnus, Sanford Sylvan stole the show with his dulcet flexible baritone.

Based on my experience with Orlando in the same venue with the same conductor, I felt a bit disappointed with the square rendition of the score, especially the heavy unflowing overture. Maybe conductor Anthony Walker was trying to keep things operational for an opera house chorus not used to this kind of complex writing. In the end, although I certainly enjoyed the theatrical experience, the overall experience lacked the beguilement offered by an echt Handelian team with the whole sets of arias such as Hymen, haste or Behold in this mirror. I do recall a broadcast from London - a stage performance also - in which Rosemary Joshua proved why Jove would resign his bolts to her arms and his lighting to her eyes.

Saturday, September 30th 2006

• Off to New York

Friday, September 29th 2006

• Comments from Paris

Olivier has just written telling me he saw the Don Giovanni from the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées. He told me Dietrich Henschel never sung in this production, having been refused by the conductor due to lack of italianità. His replacement was Lucio Gallo. This is quite puzzling, for the singer in the broadcast suffered from the kind of absence of legato one would never associate to an Italian singer!

Thursday, September 21st 2006

• Guess what? More Mozart

Today I could listen a broadcast from Paris that struck me as one of the most interesting in this Mozart year. Although I am a great admirer of Jacobs in his Handel recordings, I tend to find his Mozart recordings enervating because of its disfiguring self-indulgent mannerisms. At the same time, it is frustrating when one "burns" good singers and orchestra in a recording you know you won't come back to. It seems that someone in Paris heard my prayers. Last june, at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées, someone was able to pull out a Jacobs' Don Giovanni without the conductor and - most important of all - the annoying fortepiano playing that pervades every number of the score in his performances. It is most curious that even Jacobs' orchestra has been invited to the enterprise - the Concerto Köln. Under the bâton of the underestimated Evangelino Pidò, the period-instrument orchestra offered the best Mozart performance of its life. Free from the obligation of trying to prove any conductor's whimsical points, those musicians could concentrate on producing rich, clean and perfectly articulated phrasing - and Pidò's sense of theatrical tempo is admirable. Many a conductor would envy his ability of shifting pace according to dramatic situations without giving the impression that this is his but rather Mozart's and Da Ponte's idea. Although his overall approach was fast and rhythmically disciplinarian, he knows the art of helping his singers to produce the best effect in tricky passages, such as the last bars of Or sai chi l'onore. As a matter of fact, the casting of Patrizia Ciofi (Jacobs' Susanna) in the part of Donna Anna gives this performance immediate appeal. Although on paper the role is heavier than her natural Fach, the overall results are more than positive. Predictably, her first aria was the only moment when one would feel a bit worried for her - having to beef up her middle register for the dramatic recitative, the voice went off and on focus in a not entirely pleasant manner. In the aria itself, she was cunning to adapt the exposed high notes to mezza voce, producing a more vulnerable effect than what we are used to hear. In the rest of the role, her ease with coloratura, idiomatic Italian, stylishness and imagination made for a very good performance. One must point out, though, that high notes, easy as they are, reveal a pronounced flutter. It is curious that Jacobs' Vitellia, Alexandrina Pendatschanka proved to be ill at ease with the part of Elvira. In theory, hers is a far more forceful instrument than Ciofi's, but - at least to the microphones - her middle and low registers could not pierce through the orchestra and her high register was too glaring for this repertoire. Worse than that, her metallic vocal production is not really flattering, what makes moments such as Mi tradì a bit disappointing. On the other hand, the marvelous Anna Bonitatibus is an outstanding Zerlina, offering an all-round perfect sexy and utterly Mozartian rendition of her role. Francesco Meli is a powerful and positive Ottavio, entirely at ease either in forte or piano and flexible enough for his runs. In the title role, Dietrich Henschel, as much as the other Dietrich, offers too a Germanic approach - hectoring through the part in a far from seductive way. On the other hand, Lorenzo Regazzo (Jacobs' Figaro) offers a refreshingly unsophisticated richt-toned Leporello.

Checking at the web, I discovered that René Jacobs' actual Don Giovanni features some alternative pieces of casting - Regazzo and Pendatschanska keep their roles, but we have a Svetlana Doneva instead of Ciofi, Sunhae Im instead of Bonitatibus (too bad for Jacobs...), Werner Güra instead of Merli (idem ibidem) and Johannes Weisser instead of Henschel.

• More Four Last Songs

The discography and comments on R. Strauss's Four Last Songs has been updated. On doing that, I could listen to some interesting broadcasts too. First, Julia Varady and Kurt Masur (1992). Definitely Masur's best shot at these songs - maybe Varady has something to do with it. When you have listened to 10 recordings at the same day and something strikes you as original, there must be something in it. The truth is that most singers go for the same patterns and standards and generally those who stray from that fail horribly (e.g. Caballé), but sometimes someone can still find new possibilities within Straussian vocabulary - and that's what Varady does here. I am sure if she had recorded these songs those days, she would certainly hit the shortlist. Other illuminating performance is Jessye Norman's with Giuseppe Sinopoli - a marriage made in heaven in the sense that she was one of the few singers around who would survive Sinopoli's slow/analytic approach, which may have produced a stunning effect live. On recording, the whole performance is certainly revelatory but a bit artifficial and demonstrative. Among those who are not entirely memorable, but still most effective, is Polish soprano Aga Mikolaj, whose live performance under Karl Sollak (2002) shows one of the most smoothly sung rendition of these songs. I have checked Mikolaj's website and have to confess that nothing there shows the same level of accomplishment. Compared to Mikolaj, Angela Denoke (under the baton of Philippe Jordan) sounds far less impressive. Her jugendlich dramatisch soprano is certainly clean and pleasant, but the slow tempi only highlight some awkward moments and some lack of imagination and charisma.

Sunday, September 18th 2006

• More photos

Here

Monday, September 4th 2006

• Mozartian drawbacks

More disappointments from Salzburg. After reading a positive review of the Lucio Silla from this year's festival, I have to confess I've been doubting the general opinion that we live in a golden age of Mozartian singing. And this time once cannot blame the conductor, since Tomas Netopil proved to make the right choices and to be really considerate to his singers. First of all, I'll be candid about my puzzlement towards Annick Massis. This is a singer who can be truly admirable (I have in mind a Sonnambula from Madrid), but is often really underaccomplished. Here she shows a bleached out unsubstantial tone that acquires a sour edge in the top register. This is certainly not the voice for an opera seria prima donna! Monica Bacelli is more responsive in the part of Cecilio, but the voice is similarly colourless. I could not understand the casting of the part of Cinna with Verónica Cangemi, whose lightness of tone makes her inadequate for a male part. I am curious to read the notes in the title role's arias. On hearing, one might think this is the easiest among Mozart's big tenor roles, but the treatment of poor singing it has received over the years makes me think I must be wrong. Roberto Saccà's voice sounds so poorly focused here that I felt a certain melancholy for Peter Schreier's pinched un-Italianate singing for Hager and Harnoncourt. Lost in this Mozartian misfiring is the utterly gracious Julia Kleiter. I have seen her live only once in my life, in a minor role in Semyon Bychkow's performance of R. Strauss's Daphne at the Carnegie Hall and I felt she would be an ideal Mozart singer. I was not wrong - her singing in the part of Celia is the dictionary definition of Mozartian singing. Although she is the junior member of the cast, she is in the position to give a masterclass to her colleagues at the Felsenreitschule.

The production of Cosi Fan Tutte from the same provenance proves to be in superior class. I have had my share of disappointment with Manfred Honeck (a truly frustrating experience live in Munich with one of my favourite orchestras, the Bavarian Radio SO), but here he displayed the right sense of forward movement and excitement, especially in ensembles, but the key element of having the Vienna Philharmonic in the pit is providing firework-like articulate phrasing - and that did not seem to be the case, at lease judging from the broadcast sound. If I had seen this cast in Rio, I would have found it a more than satisfying performance - but then I remember that the Fiordiligi I saw there back in the late 90's had a far more substantial soprano (Barbara Shirvis) and that there was a far more dulcet tenor (the young Fernando Portari). That memory made me still more disappointed. Ana María Martínez is an industrious singer - she knows the limits of her voice and is generally able to produce the right effect in the right moments, as she has done in her two arias - but the voice has a generalized colour and her top register requires some shifting into fifth gear. There is no hint of the kind of instant vocal personality and grace that makes one overlook minor flaws, as someone Gundula Janowitz proved to provide in her live recording from the same venue (or Margaret Price in the broadcast from Munich with Sawallisch). Some may point out that I'm mentioning legendary singers - but that's the sort of thing one expects from Salzburg. I have to confess that my memory of Barbara Frittoli, live at the Met, puts Ms. Martínez to shame. It is also curious that my memory of seeing this singer live at the Met, in the role of Micaela, revealed a far more charming voice, slightly reminiscent of Luba Orgonasová's in its floaty vibration.

The part of Dorabella requires a remarkable singer - otherwise you won't notice her presence. Unfortunately, this is not Sophie Koch's case. She is a hard-working well-intentioned singer, but lacks all the weapons a true Dorabella needs to go to her battle against seconda-donna-ism: a sexy flexible tone, ease with high tessitura, melting mezza voce and vivid Italian declamation (as Magdalena Kozená showed next to Frittoli in 2005 at the Met). In the role of Ferrando, Shawn Matthey proved to be far more adventurous - his tenor has no inbuilt charm and he often has rough patches, but he really tries to produce clean phrasing, mezza voce and clean divisions. The performance's Guglielmo, Stéphane Degout, is an altogether more finished singer with an energetic attitude, but his baritone lacks variety. It is sad to realize that, even far far far from their truly functional days, Thomas Allen and even Helen Donath are really the saving graces of this cast. Although their basic tone is used, the force of their personalities and the recognisable quality of their voices are still strong assets in this ocean of indistinctiveness.

• Quick notes

I have rewritten my review of Sawallisch's Elektra on the Strauss page and have been going through an overbusy period. So please forgive me if I take some time to answer letters.

Sunday, August 27th 2006

• Broadcasting

A Saturday afternoon zapping through the web has revealed some unusual surprises. Because of the Mozart year, Salzburg has planned the ambitious program of Mozart opera(tic) omnia, from Bastien und Bastienne to La Clemenza di Tito. It seems that the producers have found this fascinating idea not enough to draw the audiences to the Herbert-von-Karajan-Platz - my two samples from this year's festival reveal a desperate urge to make it different. For example, Thomas Hengelbrock's obsession about making it different and exciting robbed Il Rè Pastore from its bucolic charm. Worse - the ballistic speeds made it impossible for singers to tackle their divisions with naturalness and elegance. The usually immaculate Marlis Petersen was forced to blur her divisions in an unglamourous manner. Annette Dach's Aminta produced mechanic coloratura and, compared to the naturally less young- and firm-toned Ann Murray (in Harnoncourt's recording) proved to lack imagination. I was curious to hear Krassimir Spicer, here taking the role of Alessandro, to my disappointment. At first, I was happy to find a non-nasal, non-tight tenor voice, but then the whole method is so artifficial and his sense of pitch in runs so suspect that I decided to shift to Harnoncourt's Le Nozze di Figaro.

I am always surprised how un-Italianate and theatrically-wrong Harnoncourt's approach to the Da Ponte operas is. The flow of rhythm is constantly interrupted by mannered ritardandi and accelerandi which bring very little compensation. Also, the Vienna Philharmonic sounded rough and uninspired, probably uncomfortable with a concept which goes against everything they are used to do. I have to confess that rarely a glamourous cast such as this one has proved to be so disappointing. As I disliked the performance, I confess I missed parts of it, so I can't say anything about Christine Schäfer's Cherubino. Dorothea Röschmann is an intelligent singer, but probably the wrong one for the part of the Countess. First of all, floating mezza voce has never been entirely into her powers and this is a role in which that ability is essential. Then her habit of chopping her phrasing into non-legato is getting more and more foreign to Mozartian style. The homogeneity of her voice seems to be under serious threat too - her low register is no longer well-managed as it used to be and extreme top notes stress her. Maybe it is time to re-evaluate what she has been doing with her voice. Compared to Röschmann's Countess, Anna Netrebko's Susanna sounded particularly refreshing in her cleanliness of phrasing. But the Russian soprano is so uneventful in this wittiest of roles that one always mistakes her for a second Countess, in her languid generalised attitude, clouded vowels and absent-mindness. To keep within the feminine part of the cast, I found Marie McLaughlin's rendition of Il capro e la capretta embarassing. Why not cutting the aria altogether? This would have made sense if McLaughlin was a veteran singer, whereas she is only a prematurely worn-sounding one. To make things worse, Boje Skovhus' Count seemed to be a series of variation on the theme "roughness", not to mention that his low register has become history. If we have in mind that his Italian is non-existant, this was a performance very hard to diggest. As a result, the saving grace in the cast was the firm-toned and idiomatic Ildebrando d'Arcangelo, in the role of Figaro.

Shifting to the non-Salzburger Don Giovanni from the Theater an der Wieden, I found that Betrand de Billy's undemonstrative conducting did a far better service to Mozart. Not to mention that, under his baton, the Radio-Symphonieorchester Wien certainly sounded more transparent and accurate than the Philharmonic in Salzburg. Outstanding in the cast were Gerald Finley's seductive Don Giovanni, Hanno-Müller Brachmann's vivacious Leporello, impressively at east with his Italian text and the stylish and impassionate Heidi Brunner (whom I saw as Zerlina ages ago...). It was endearing to find the Brazilian soprano Adriane Queiroz as Zerlina. Her whole method made me think of a lighter version of Barbara Frittoli. The voice lacks the repose echt Mozartian singers usually feature, but, as much as her Milanese colleague, this does not impare her flexibility, legato and imagination.

• Subtle art

Today I saw on the TV a most sensitive unpretentious movie named "In the Gloaming". I would later discover the director was Cristopher Reeve (yes, the "original" superman). Although the art direction was a bit obvious, Reeve gave his exceptional cast all the time and space they needed to produce realistic and therefore extremely touching performances, helped by a direct script never trying to be larger-than-life: although it is a sad story, it is told in a refreshingly un-tragic manner. Both Glenn Close and Whoopi Goldberg offer their best acting in years. In performances free from any trace of mannerism, we are reminded of how powerful these actresses can be. Robert Sean Leonard offers the performance of his life and David Strathairn and Bridget Fonda prove that there is not such thing as secondary roles.

Saturday, August 19th 2006

 

• Muy Buenos Aires

It seems my list of favourite places in the world has a new item - Buenos Aires has a bit of Milan, a bit of Paris, a bit of New York's Upper East Side, a bit of the Flamengo Beach in Rio de Janeiro and lots of its unique self. It is the most accomplished attempt of out-Europe-ing Europe and curiously its patchwork of Italian, Spanish and French influence, its self-important grandeur, its debonair lifestyle do reveal its Latin American roots behind the stucco and the marble. I have always said that the best thing about Brazil is the Brazilian people, but I am made to notice that the best thing about South America is that people are really nice everywhere. The Argentinians are spontaneous, friendly, stylish (sometimes in an over-the-top manner) and amazingly bon-vivant.

My friend Felipe seems to be 100% into the porteño way-of-life and got himself a cozy apartment near the Plazoleta Carlos Pellegrini, where the Brazilian Ambassador's residence makes you think someone had transported the whole thing from the Loire Valley. My first "must-do" appointment was the Teatro Colón. After managing to find a ticket to the guided visited, I was introduced into the grandiose building. The large halls in contrasted French and Italian style are certainly impressive, but the auditorium is the one to survive longer in one's mind. Its glamourous boxes framed with gold and red curtains grant it an almost eerie atmosphere. I would come back at night to see Viktor Ullmann's Der Kaiser von Atlantis. It is an opera I had never seen (or heard) before and I left the theatre most impressed. It is a short work (no longer than an hour) using a wide range of music-dramatic techniques - cabaret, daring harmonies, late Romantic melodism, unusual orchestration, you name it, not to mention quotations from source as varied as Bach and American musical theatre. The Ensemble Instrumental de la Ópera de Cámara played richly for its conductor, Guillermo Brizzio, and the casting has practically no weak link. Soprano Laura Rizzo found no trouble in the high tessitura and still had operating space for liquid floating pianissimi. Mezzo Alejandra Malvino featured a strong voice and impressive control of registers, especially in a part abundant in wide intervals. Both tenors - Enrique Folger as the Harlequin and Gabriel Renaud as A Soldier - featured healthy voices adept to the high-lying declamatory style required from them. Hernán Iturralde's strong bass baritone caused a great impression in the role of Death and, if Luciano Garay's voice may have its effortful moment, he is a most intelligent singer, using a wide tonal palette to portray the title role's contradictory mind. The whole cast seemed comfortable with Marcelo Lombardero's direction and Gastón Joubert's production could make no wrong in its simplicity and directness.

I was able to visit two museums in Buenos Aires: the Museo Nacional de Bellas Artes and the MALBA. The former features a strange collection of secondary paintings by important European artists and a series of interesting modern art. I have to confess my favourite piece was a painting by a late-Romantic French painter named William Adolphe Bouguereau named Le Premier Deuil. I would later discover that he was a sort of Impressionist-hater who was considered to be one of the best painters of his day and is largely forgotten today. The museum also featured a temporary exhibit of paintings about violence in Colombia by Botero. Unusual.

The MALBA is a museum of modern and contemporary Latin American art and has become well-known in Brazil because it shows one of the most famous examples of Brazilian modern painting, which is Tarsila do Amaral's Abaporu. It is a beautiful building and precisely the room where you can find Abaporu is the best one, with exquisite works by Covarrubias, José Cuneo and Diego Rivera.

Buenos Aires is also a great place to eat in. Restaurants are marvelous and incredibly cheap. We tasted the famous Argentinian beef in La Cabrera, a cozy restaurant in Palermo. The next day we would visit Palermo again for dinner at the trendy Casa Cruz , where you can eat what they call "Argentinian urban cuisine". The dishes look great and taste even better. La Petanque, in San Telmo, was a great choice for lunch (Felipe's choice - noblesse oblige). It is a French restaurant, with traditional dishes and an unforgettable tarte tatin. There is also a funny restaurant named Piegari, at La Recova, a kind of gourmet area which happens to be under a highway overpass! It is the kind of restaurant my friend Isabela calls "mafia grandpa's favourite restaurant" with its 80's décors, mighty amounts of food and older clientelle. The black ravioli with salmons and almonds was delicious and, as always in Buenos Aires, the tiramisù is heavenly.

My favourite street in Buenos Aires: Arroyo. My best buy: shoes at Lopez Taibo. My "don't go there" in Buenos Aires: Café Tortoni, really overrated. My regret in Buenos Aires: not going to the theater to see either John Patrick Shanley's Doubt or Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? Best laugh in Buenos Aires: Pamela - this poster is unbelievable! We have no idea who she is, but she is certainly (un)dressed to kill!

Here are some of my photos.

Wednesday, August 9th 2006

• Off to Buenos Aires

So it is - I'm finally visiting Argentina. This might seem odd to some of you who must be asking themselves why I have never done this before, but sometimes one just keeps good stuff in stock for the right occasion. And that's the case right now. This is going to be a very short trip, so I intend to write my impression on the Argentine capital city very soon.

• Lots of stuff

- Kiri Te Kanawa singing Laudate Dominum from Mozart's K 339 is one of the most perfect pieces of singing ever recorded. I have used it in the Mozart "lesson" and I kept waiting for someone to say "Oh my God, who is THIS singer?", but then I realized it sounded so uncomplicatedly pleasant that no layman would be able to notice its exceptionality. And that's exactly a good definition to the adjective "Mozartian".

- Ann Hallenberg - Has someone probably since Bernarda Fink sung Handel and Bach so admirably? Having listened to her sincerely touching Agnus Dei from Bach's Messe H-moll and her incendiary Rompo i lacci (Flavio), I am desperate for more!

- YouTube - If you like music, this is highly addictive. Back to earth after a bit of it, I've realized I had spent some hours on it!

- Duncan Tucker's Transamerica (yes, I took a while to finally watch this one) is one of the best comedy movies made in the USA in the last 10 years. In the sense that it avoids nastiness and overcuteness, it seems the sanitized (meaning that everything looks and feels clean and cool) version of an Almodóvar movie. On saying this, I imply no criticism: on the contrary, I see it as a dramatic point the semi-bourgeois way it tells the story of two outcasts. From that point of view, this is an encounter between two Americas - the land of possibilities is also a land where everything is possible. Felicity Huffman offers a tour de force and virtuoso-like acting, achieving the difficult task of being funny and touching at the same time. Out of Ireland, Fionnula Flanagan is just amazing in her portrayal of the decadent momma from Dixieland.

- On the other hand, Steven Soderbergh's Bubble offers a realistic (in the Émile Zola sense of the word) view of America, but the fragility implied in the title seems to concern the whole premise of the movie. When one uses non-actors, the whole point is to highlight artlessness. Think of Italian neo-realism. When you take ordinary people, place them in front of the camera and ask them to do extraordinay things, they neither act like themselves nor give the impression that they could be someone who would actually perform the actions described in the script. Considering the story-telling's slow pace, one sees the blanks proper acting would have filled in.

Thursday, August 3rd 2006

• What a mass!

Having to select the tracks for a lesson on Mozart in the small course of History of Music I am offering to a group of friends, I have discovered something I had not really thought about: the Mass K427 does not have bad luck in recordings, it actually has bad luck everywhere, because it is a very very difficult piece to pull off. I don't have every recording of it, but only some seven or eight - none of them perfect.

To start with, almost every recording has poor balance: most of them service soloists and muffle the orchestra. Among my recordings, only William Christie sounds like natural recorded sound. Abbado does feature clarity, but the soloists are recorded unnaturaly close. I would say Levine has something acceptable, but the scale is too grande to make sense. It is frightening that, among my recordings only Christie seems to focus the structural aspects - the phrasing is clear and organic and his choice of tempi, even if a bit swift now and then, brings to the fore the dance rhythms and make everything sound crispy and accurate. However, his chorus is good but not outstanding.

When it comes to Christie's soloists, Alan Ewing is the only singer to cause an impression: Lynne Dawson is efficient, the tenor seems a bit nervous with his divisions and Patricia Petibon is not entirely comfortable with what she has to sing. She does all the notes all round and knows the proper style, but is rarely beguiling. At least, she seems alive. I cannot say the same of the lovely Barbara Bonney for Abbado or - worse - the desincarnated Sylvia McNair for Gardiner. In this competition, Margaret Marshall, despite an unexceptional voice, does a very good work for Marriner. I was inclined to say something about Ileana Cotrubas - she was in pretty voice and seems to take some interest in the proceedings, but there are lots of minor untidy details that ultimately turn me off. And her soprano II is the young Kiri Te Kanawa, who would have done something more impressive. In the end, there is only one soprano who really goes to the heart of the matter: Kathleen Battle.

To start with, she seems comfortable with what she has to sing, phrases graciously all the way, offers the kind of sensuous approach this work (weird as it sound) asks for and has a kind of fervour, probably due to her gospel background, light sopranos rarely have. It is most unfortunate that Lella Cuberli is in such ugly voice in this recording. If Battle had someone like, say, Lucia Popp as soprano II (we can always dream of stuff like that...), I guess I could put up with Levine's heavyweight approach. In any case, soprano II seems to be better cast in a general sense - I thought Felicity Palmer a bit nervous with the high tessitura and Arleen Augér (Abbado) a bit vinegary, but Monika Frimmer and Diana Montague have done a beautiful job. It is a pity that, according to my memories, I haven't been impressed by neither Arleen Augér nor Frederica von Stade in Bernstein's video. Regarding tenors, Anthony Rolfe-Johnson and Cristoph Prégardien are exemplary. Hans-Peter Blochwitz is also very reliable, but Peter Seiffert - even those days - is just a curiosity.

I have been told that Herreweghe offers an all-round excellent performance and I imagine Christiane Oelze and Jennifer Larmore could be terrific. I am curious now. In any case, I would love to hear something like Rosemary Joshua, Joyce DiDonato, Werner Güra and a good Bachian bass (those who know how to sound dark and tackle runs) and maybe who knows Charles Mackeras, but not the chorus from Edinburgh...I say Mackerras because, on comparative listening for the same lessons, I simply didn't choose his Mozart opera recordings over all others for reasons of casting. His sense of structural balance and clarity and the rightness of his tempi is truly masterly.

• More Clemenza

A review of Harnoncourt's video from Salzburg has been added to the discography.

Sunday, July 9th 2006

• To a friend

Great minds against themselves conspire
And shun the cure they most desire

Monday, June 26th 2006

• Tito again

Just to tell that reviews of both Mackerras and Jacobs have been added to the discography of La Clemenza di Tito. I have to thank Lennart for his help on that.

Saturday, June 24th 2006

• I like Kiri

I risk to be snobbed by "connoiseurs" when I say that, but I believe snobs always have less fun than anyone else. Therefore, beguiled by the velvety feminine patrician but seductive voice of Kiri Te Kanawa, I really don't care about snobs. I have transferred Keilberth's recording of R. Strauss's Arabella with Lisa della Casato my i-pod and, on returning home, ran to the Tate CDs and there she is - this is the voice of the girl whose picture would bring someone from irgendwo in Slavonien to Vienna. She is the provocative but lovely, sophisticated but warm-hearted girl whose sister who has renounced everything for her would love nonetheless. The smile and the melancholy appear behind the golden creamy tone the purity of which has nothing disembodied about it. She is the perfect Arabella and, in 50 years, dictionaries will mention that we were lucky to witness her live - especially in this role in which she has not one rival.

Thursday, June 22nd 2006

 

• A harpsichord

Since I was twelve years old I have always dreamt of having a harpsichord - and all my attempts to play one were frustrated. The owner - very understandably when it happened during an intermission of a concert - would cut short my Anna-Magdalena Bach menuet before I could finish the first phrase. Today a colleague from work, Leonardo, saved me from going to the tomb with this frustration. He has a beautiful instrument bought in Milan and, while we had our drinks before lunch, he asked me if I wanted to play. Foreseeing that something like that might happen, I had taken my volume of Bach's transcriptions of Vivaldi's concerti for the harpsichord and tried my luck. I won't mind sounding silly, but it was wonderful. For those who play the piano, it is a weird sensation of something familiar but challenging. The keys don't produce the sensation of firmness as in the piano and you feel really afraid of breaking something. On the other hand, the almost physical sensation of the saltarelli plucking the strings is amazing. It is curious that the structural possibilities of the keyboard almost lead you to produce something close to baroque phrasing. Deprived from dynamic possibilities, one starts to play with speed and there's one's own version of inégalité!

Wednesday, June 21st 2006

 

• More Mozart

For those who like Mozart's La Clemenza di Tito, this year is a dream come true. I have been writing about new releases (reviews will follow) and today, right from Geneva, a most compelling performance was broadcast through BBC. I was glad to read that conductor Christian Zacharias and I share some ideas about the opera, judging from his interview and his grasp of what he calls "Beethovenian" in the finale ultimo is most enlightening. That said, there was nothing heavy or overgrand in his conducting. At the contrary, he offered a kapellmeisterlich-in-the-good-sense performance, clear and undemonstrative and the Orchestre de Chambre de Lausanne offered rich and flexible playing. In the difficult role of Vitellia, Anna Caterina Antonacci offered one of her most compelling performances. I read on Gramophone that she feels better about her voice and technique these days - and I must share her feeling. Compared to Muti's Don Giovanni on DVD, she sounds a completely different singer - the voice is far richer and powerful, without loosing an inch of its ductility. Also, her varied use of recitatives allied amazing homogeneity of registers over a long range, allied to a irresistible nut not entirely alluring tonal quality, make her an exemplary Vitellia. I hope someone plans to release this performance or to schedule Antonacci in a new Tito recording somewhere else. She deserves to make part of the discography, especially when there are so few outstanding exponents of this role. That said, it is Joyce DiDonato who deserves the warmest praises for a perfect, dictionary-specimen Mozartian performance - and when I say perfect, I don't mean boring-perfect, but vital, exciting and mesmerizing perfect. At gunpoint, if I was made to invent a drawback, I would say that maybe her voice is too lovely for a guy's role, but that is so silly that maybe I would brave the bullets and keep quiet. Both these singers are probably the best pairing in the leading roles in any performance of this opera. As for Charles Workman, as he names says, his hard-working elegant performance does deserve some praises, but the artifficial placement in his voice makes for an overall lack of interpretative spontaneity and for some bleached-out top notes. In any case, I guess I would prefer him to, say, Cristoph Prégardien in the video from Paris. The other singers are reliable, with the probable exception of a gusty Servilia from Corinna Mologni. This is a role where grace and loveliness is everything.

• Down there with Bach

Bach's writing for alto is so difficult that we are always faced with the dilemma: expressive contralto with very little punch or "positive" but uniform contratenor? Although one should bother with authenticity, my heart always goes for the contralto who knows to produce a bright and forward sound, what is very rare. Listening again to John Eliot Gardiner's volume one in the Soli Deo Gloria Bach cantata series, I finally realized how lucky we are to have Wilke Te Brummelstroete around. In my opinion, she is the best Bachian contralto these days and could face competion any time. She has entirely mastered her low passaggio and produces a rich low notes without sounding matronly. All that while keeping a light and pleasant firm sound in her high notes. Pity she is such an infrequent guest of recording studios.

Saturday, June 17th 2006

• A voice from the East

My friend Isabela has just arrived from Tokyo and brought me a very special gift - a newly released CD featuring a Japanese soprano whom I have never seen or heard before named Akiko Nakajima. She is the kind of singer whose basic pleasant vocal quality is never lost. Her challenge seems therefore to resist the temptation to go beyond her natural limits, since she still retains her appeal even when under pressure. It is a most curious disc when one hears a singer overparted in every track. Hers is a lyric soprano, even through the whole range. Her low register shows she doesn't have the ability to "spingere" down there (I'm afraid she won't ever be a Cio-cio-san, at least without compromising her vocal health), but she is an expert in concentrating and rotating her tone in the Janowitz/Schwarzkopf/Isokoski sense in her top notes. Therefore, she is able to create some stunning effects in Spitzennoten. As these comparisons tell, this singer should have showed her possibilities in her Fach before venturing into foreign territory. Why not a Susanna/Zerlina
Adina/Juliette/Micaela disc?

I have to confess I have always been curious about those singers whose names are not written in katakana in Japanese catalogues - and, thanks to Isabela, I was finally able to listen to one. I imagined this kind of singer would sound like the best-behaved girl in the voice department, but Nakajima is a very vivid performer. Although some of her vowels could be clearer, she really goes deep in the text, never singing repeats in the same way and colouring the text with almost spontaneous use of rubato. However, the voice is not one of an Italian soprano and, in her best moment, La Traviata's Addio del Passato, she curiously sounds like those Rumanian Violettas, singing in a shimmering slightly veiled tone. It is a fact that she should avoid coloratura repertoire, when she sounds really ill at ease, as much as her tenor, the Argentinian Dario Schmunck, whose spontaneous light lyric tenor is pleasant when not spinning Bellini's high-lying phrasing. The highlight in this disc is probably L'Amico Fritz's cherry duet, when both singers sound believably young, fresh and lovely in a non-larger than life way which is most suitable to the text.

Monday, June 12nd 2006

• Movies

Some artists seem to become a kind of trademark of themselves - you get their products and recognise a generalized standard of quality but the importance is more related to the name than to the product in itself. Maybe this is a shallow opinion, but I guess it is the case of Wim Wenders probably since Der Himmel über Berlin. His last movie, Don't Come Knocking, does look like the work of a master, but not one you would declare to like or even recommend - such as those scraps of paper with three pencilstrokes and a signature by Picasso hanging in the walls of second-hand museums. Although all the symbols involved are American - the wide landscapes, cowboys, neon-lit casinos, diners, empty utilitarian urban sceneries (it often and beautifully looks like a painting by Hopper) - the eye of the director is definitely European. The tempo, the analytic building of scenes and the use of cameras cry to the audience there is someone German behind the cameras. The fractionary plot and sketched characters with dialogues with the "meaningful moment" tag is, however, a trademark of Sam Sheppard, the playwright. This aesthetics certainly work better on stage. On the big screen, one expects acting of a denser level. Here Jessica Lange and Sheppard himself seem to be directed to offer acting of a very superficial kind, which only adds to a certain naïve and (unintentionally) kitsch feeling (and I am not referring to the tacky interiors one would find in the good old far west - that is actually endearing). A final question - has Fairuza Balk been playing the same character since American History X? What has happened to her?

Costa-Gavras, on the other hand, seems to be working really hard to keep updated and to absord new ideas. Le Couperet is really something very different from Amen, Mad City or Music Box - and I don't say that in the Match Point sense: those were films with different levels of sucess and the new one is not necessarily better than the other ones. It is just a differnet film. Compared to the Americanized film-making Costa-Gavras has adopted, Le Couperet does look like the kind of French film we have been watching since the late 90's. It certainly boasts irresistible black humour and director/screen-writer know when to shift to a serious mood or to a more raw kind of comedy. The way the leading character plots and commits his crimes is most believable in its awkward and opportunistic manner, but there is a moment when you feel "there goes again other murder" and you start to count that there are two or three left. In this sense, subplots could be more organic with the main story-telling. With some 30 min less, this could have been unnecessary.

• Broadcasts

I haven't had these days the opportunity to listen to broadcasts as often as I used to do, but these two last week-ends I could listen to a bit longer to the Tannhäuser from Génève, in which Nina Stemme is a superlative Elisabeth, fullt-toned but rich in tone-colouring, and Stephen Gould is a creative Minnesänger. The role might be a bit of a stretch for him, but the voice is consistently pleasant. There is also the Don Giovanni from Paris - I wish I could have seen Michael Hanneke's "corporative world"-production, since the musical aspects of this performance are rarely above routine. Cambreling offers a safe effective rendition of the score (the act I finale was unusually well-organized) and the cast had some good singings below their usual form or miscast. The fach of Christine Schäfer's soprano has always been a mistery to me. When I first heard it, I thought "an Edith Mathis with a touch of Anja Silja". That may be the reason why she shifts from purely lyric to coloratura and sometimes even beyond that, rarely sounding entirely succesful although she is often congenial. Her Donna Anna has some bright forceful top notes, but her high phrasing rarely floats and her low notes are usually hoarse. Her fioritura runs dangerously close to savonnement as well. That said, she is an urgent and quite patrician. Mireille Delunsch's heavy usage of her voice shows in the eventual awkward phrasing and her tone has lost some of its loveliness. I can think of more seductive Zerlinas than Alexandra Zamojska, but she is definitely an efficient and stylish one. As for Shawn Mathey, this is definitely a more robust Ottavio than usual, but Dalla sua pace resented his abuse of glottal attack. Peter Mattei is an acknowledged exponent of the part of Don Giovanni and sings with added insight (compared to Daniel Harding's performances from Aix). Robert Lloyd is still truly formidable as the Commendatore.

• Will I finally visit Buenos Aires?

My attempts to visit the capital city of Argentina are getting three years-old. Because of the Teatro Colón's Kafka-esque ticket-selling system, it is almost impossible to schedule one's trip if one insists on visiting the traditional Argentinian operatic venue (as I do). Because of my friend Felipe, who lives there now and pointed out to me the closing of the opera house for some years due to restoration, I am decided to see Salieri's La Grotta di Trofonio there, but this is taking the strategical planning of a Napoleonic war. Because of Felipe's kindness and good intentions, I think I'll succeed this time. I'll keep you posted.

Saturday, June 10th 2006

• Choses cachées dans "Caché"

Thanks to Telma, my boss's omniscient secretary, I was able to discover that the ending of Michael Hanneke's Caché is less "open" and "exoteric" than I had thought. If you pay lots of attention to the left upper part of the screen during the last scene, you'll see something that will make everything more logic in the ordinary sense of the world, but also quite puzzling. Telma was so upset because she was the only one to see that in a group of ten people (she had asked around). Now that I've seen the movie again, I have to say that some people really see more than others (in the physical sense of the word).

Sunday, June 5th 2006

• Sei pur vaga, brillante Zerlina

It is truly commendable Maestro Silvio Barbato's campaign to transform the large pyramidal building in the heart of Brazil's capital city into a genuine National Theatre. Judging from tonight's performance of Mozart's Don Giovanni, it sounds like an act of courage. Barbato himself is an acquired taste of mine. I did see in the past some atrocious performances by him, but the Idomeneo in Rio made me give him a second chance. He knows what Mozartian style is, but I don't know wether the sloppy orchestral playing that has become a kind of hallmark of his performances is the result of underprepared musicians and bad instruments or his lack of ability to cultivate the sound of an ensemble. When it comes to the orchestra in the Teatro Nacional, I am inclined to blame the forces available. If I am to overlook the poor poor POOR playing tonight, I may retain the interesting tempi and use of accent and time shifts to create dramatic effects. I would mention the pride of place given to woodwind, but I guess that was the result of hoarse and blurred string sound. In the end, I was a bit thankful for the cuts in the finale ultimo.

All that said, it is admirable that Mr. Barbato has been able to gather a team of Mozartian singers in a country with no tradition in this repertoire. Imported from São Paulo, soprano Claudia Riccitelli was given the role of Donna Anna. Her voice is not what the French would call flatteuse. Her Leila (in Bizet's Les Pecheurs de Perles) in Rio showed an imaginative but hardworking singer. In a part which requires a voice happy to float above the stage, Riccitelli operated an inch from her very limits from the first scene. She pulled out a presentable if worrisome Or sai chi l'onore. Non mi dir was the dubious triumph of confidence in one own's technique on inadequate resources. I was disappointed to find Janette Dornellas, Rio's more than acceptable Elettra in Idomeneo this year, ill at ease as Donna Elvira. Her bright and powerful voice crossed the limits of overmetallic sound and her low register was entirely disconnected from the rest of her voice. A pity, since she seemed to have good ideas about the role. In the title role, Leonardo Neiva displayed a velvety and flexible baritone. Exposed high notes tended to sound bleached, though. Pepes do Valle was a natural and engaging Leporello who knew how to explore buffo possibilities without hamming or cheating with Mozartian lines.

However, the truly marvelous Luisa Francesconi exposed the different levels of shortcoming of the performance, offering one of the most engaging mezzo-soprano Zerlinas in my experience. I have to confess I had my doubts on how charming she might sound in such a seductive role after seeing her impressively convincing James Dean-like (and look-a-like) Idamante in Rio. This Protean artist showed herself tonight as the most feminine, volatile and sexy of Zerlinas. Although her tone is unmistakably mezzo-tinted, she successfully adapted her high register to the kind of bell-like sound one would expect in a role like that, beguiling the audience with exemplary renditions of her arias and strong contribution to ensembles. Once again I state that the fact that this singer has not been exposed to the audiences of the world's leading opera houses is entirely their loss. Since she is a native of Brasília, I would really enjoy to see her singing repertoire in which she could show the entirety of her resources, such as Handel's La Lucrezia. There are reasonably good baroque musique specialists in this town...

I guess the kind of staging adopted by director Gianmaria Romagnoli is what one calls semi-staging. The orchestra was inserted downstage, while two opposite sets of steps lead to the proper "stage", organized as a courtroom. All singers remained onstage throughout the show and stood up for their contributions as if "testifying" and "reviving" the events - the kind of stuff that only makes the story more confuse and does not look good. It seems that actors' direction took profit of how talented each member of the cast was - and there was too much information going on (such as a Spike Lee's Inside Man's Jodie Foster-like angel playing cards with Don Giovanni's lawyer, a kind of literal translation of the Devil's advocate...). In any case, my friend Isabela is entirely right on saying that the staging's most valuable asset was the fact that everyone in the cast looked like their characters. When my friend Bruno told her that he was going to see it comme il faut in Milan, she said he might not have such a collection of physiques de rôle so perfect as tonight's. Let's see.

Tuesday, May 30th 2006

• Photos

From a short-trip to Pirenopolis. 160 km from Brasilia.

Sunday, May 28th 2006

• Staying home with British movies

Having nothing to do last week-end, I stayed home and turned the tv on only to find this puzzling and fascinating Victorian half-Lesbian half-Dickensian story with lots of surprising volte-faces and amazing actresses. This happened to be BBC's Fingersmith. I saw the whole thing into the night and had a great time. Both Elayne Cassidy (from Alejandro Almenábar's The Others and Atom Egoyan's Felicia's Journey) and Sally Hawkins are excellent and Rupert Evans (from Shakespeare Retold - Midsummer Night Dream) showed his credentials in a performance entirely made in demi-tintes, where most others could just ham it entirely. And there are expectedly great performances from Imelda Staunton and Charles Dance. Sarah Waters is the author of the book on which the screenplay has been made. Judging from the movie, at first sight, it all looks as if Wilkie Collins could have written it if there had not been so much "continental" decadence and sexuality involved. It is curious, though, that the ending feels so much like Jane Austen (in the Keira Knightely "incandenscently in love"-sense) if we overlook the fact that those are two girls. Although this is not necessarily original per se, it is formally speaking, I guess.

In an entirely different genre, the other British movie to entertain me through my week-end is a horror B movie from the 50's called "Night of the Demon", by a French-born American director Jacques Tourneur, whom I discovered to be the author of the original Cat People (remember, Nastasja Kinski?). Instead of letting myself turn off by special (d)effects, the story really made me curious. Although there is nothing terrifying going on for modern tastes, the whole plot is built on interesting slightly bizarre dialogues and dramatic situations, with more than a touch of sense of humour - in the end you're really into it. Although the whole appreciation turns around the idea of "cult trash", there is much to take seriously, such as a masterly scene in a train wagon where all characters involved are trying to pass on to each other a cursed parchment which is timed to perfection in good theatrical tradition. Not to everyone's taste, I know, but definitely for those who like to see unusual things.

• Cagion di meraviglia

I have been a proud advocate of Mozart's La Clemenza di Tito since my early days of listening to vocal music. For a long while, I was also proud to say I had all the recordings of this greatest and last of opere serie, but these months have challenged my budget and spiced my collector's obsession. Not only has DG released MacKerras, but also Harmonia Mundi offers René Jacobs and TDK, Harnoncourt's performance from Salzburg - not to mention Cambreling from Paris. I have already purchased MacKerras and, on listening to it, I cannot cease to marvel. Maybe because of the little course on History of Music, I have been listening to everything as if I had never done that before. So I have caught myself these days in awe more frequently than I use to. I believe that never has Mozart followed the classic motto inutilia truncat as perfectly as here. Every note in the score is timed to perfect dramatic effect and in the end you feel you really know these people. No other composer would convince us of Vitellia's soul-searching plus "doing-the-right-thing" or that Tito is such a really good guy that it is actually difficult to suffer him and that Sesto is such a likeable emotion-driven person that a friend could actually forgive his betrayal.

A moment which had never fired my imagination actually caught my attention today. It is the recitative in which Tito tells Sesto he may open his heart since he is speaking to a friend, not to the Emperor. In this moment, being a criminal and practically sentenced to death, Sesto is a free man who doesn't fear and owes nothing to his sovereign. This is the moment where they speak man-to-man for the first time. It is the moment when Tito actually begs Sesto to tell him, to explain. He is an Emperor who has always longed to have someone willing to put the protocol aside and be himself with him - and he finds this person in someone who actually betrayed him. One understands why he forgives him. "Let my friend live, even if he has betrayed me", he would say. Sesto is unfaithful, but in the end he might be his only friend. That very betrayal has cancelled the "infinite space" set by the gods between these two men. Of course, saying this I am praising Metastasio's skills, but I am sure that his words only speak to our souls because Mozart gave them a soul in the first place.

Friday, May 26th 2006

• My two cents on Puccini

Nobody likes to say he or she likes Puccini. Although I don't think it's not the kind of music I would listen to everyday, it does fit a special occasion. Some would say this is the musical equivalent of "Da Vinci Code", but - even if Puccini would squeeze tears and blood from music to win over the audience, the hands of a master were employed to do the work. You just have to compare him to all those wannabes from the Verismo days all over Europe. In any case, I may have said that before, the duet from Manon Lescaut, "Tu, amore, tu", is the sexiest thing ever done in opera. The energetic preliminary interaction evolving to ardourous surrendering building up to almost athletic almost angular climax... It is wonderful how old times' public moral straightjacket really made those people creative in getting their point taken. And you do get the point with Mediterranean sensuous singing from Montserrat Caballé and Plácido Domingo wrapped in sensuous orchestral cushions provided by the excited beat of the young James Levine back in the Rudolf Bing gala at the Metropolitan Opera. I do wonder if the Joseph Volpe one will reserve us something as GOOD as that.

• Glad to share

My friend Luisfel is so upset I haven't written about the cozy slightly ambitious but unpretentious course on History of Music I have organized for my friends that I take the opportunity to write about that here. The whole idea is to give the basic information one needs in order to have an independent opinion and taste in music. After a first semi-schyzophrenic st meeting when we discussed the origins of music and the shaping of its basic elements, we have been travelling in time from the Middle Ages and next time we get to Baroque Music. It has been great to revisit some basic concepts and - most of all - to listen to familiar stuff afresh, since some of the most difficult and exciting work has been "butchering" long pieces into attractive and meaningful bleeding chunks. For example, which 8 minutes from the Matthäus-Passion to highlight? [that was easy - at least for me - St. Peter's three-fold denial plus Erbarme dich...] Also, I have been surprised by my inclination for Orlando when I had to choose one of his operas to explore the basic concepts. On the other side, it was hugely disappointing to discover that there is only one recording of the final duet from L'Incoronazione di Poppea which I really like, which is Mireille Delunsch and Anne Sofie von Otter's in William Christie's DVD, in which both singers know that it is cool to produce plummy seductive tones but also that it is cooler when you can get those ultra-sexy dissonances really electrical through perfect matching of fixed (but not wiry) tone. Unfortunately, my CD burnt from that is not working properly and I had to resort to second choice, Jacobs' with Danielle Borst and Guillemette Laurens.

• Movies

Michael Hanneke's Caché not only is his best movie, but also the best piece of acting from Juliette Binoche I have ever seen, not to mention that Daniel Auteil proves again that there never is "another" film with him. The metalinguistic camerawork is masterly, the almost classical (in the Ingres sense of this word) art direction is mesmerizing: there is no superfluous beauty in this film, those images and dialogues simply display naturalness and economy of means. The ending might seem puzzling, but again Hanneke followed the golden rule of inutilia truncat. A friend of mine asked me - what do you think of the whole story? Things only look proper and clean if seen in a certain perspective, was my immediate answer. I don't know if I am able to develope from that, but I felt comfortable with it.

Thursday, May 18th 2006

• Idomeneo in Rio

Because the series of performances of Mozart´s Idomeneo taking place at Rio´s Theatro Municipal were supposed to be the Brazilian première*, the idea was to hire only Brazilian artists. Inviting Brazilian painter Adriana Varejão seemed to be a happy choice. In her career, she has explored a kind of post-modernistic recreation of Brazilian baroque, and - in theory - this is the kind of trend Eurotrash productions like to investigate. I would say she bothered to read the libretto. It seems she associates the plot of Idomeneo with liquids - blood, tears, the ocean - and the action has been set in a large room covered with white tiles. It might represent a bathing place or a slaughterhouse. The setting is cunningly transformed to comply with the requirements of different scenes. For example, the shipwrecked Idomeneo emerges from a vapor pool in a striking effect and the most "public" scenes seem to represent one of those old grand-hôtels. I have no problem with Varejão's ideas, but I don't think I like the way they have been crafted into sceneries. When you have settings that revolve about tiles, they ought to look realistic. Otherwise, it is only cardboard surfaces covered with bright plastic squares. I also believe that using 5-meter tall water gushes during zeffiretti lusinghieri and the ensuing duet is far from being a wise idea, since the dripping noises are not prescribed by Mozart. It is true, however, that everything looked beautiful compared to Marcelo Marques' ugly costumes, which seem to serve no purpose: they failed to portrait XVIIIth century clothing-style, they failed to look stylized (Japanese katanas didn't help at all) and the colours in ensemble didn't match, they also seemed to have no point in the whole bathing/butchering concept.

I am not sure if this is André Heller-Lopes's first full staging for the Theatro Municipal, but it is telling the fact that inviting someone exposed to the practices adopted in the main opera houses in the world - especially after a long diet of unexperienced theatre directors who barely see any opera at all. That said, some basic mistakes an experienced theatre director would never permit intrude now and then - such as choristers crossing in front of the main soloists. Worse of all, although the singer taking the part of Idomeneo seemed to be willing to follow the director's instructions, they simply were beyond his acting possibilities. As a result, he looked unintentionally comic and some members of the audience had to repress their laughter. It would have been wiser to chose a palette of acting possibilities with which the tenor would feel more comfortable.

After an untidy overfast Magic Flute in the same theatre, I was a bit suspicious of conductor Silvio Barbato - only to be positively surprised. He seems to be in better understanding with the orchestra and his ability to give space to soloists is greatly improved. Of course, mismatches would creep over now and then, especially in fast violin passagework and choral episodes, but all in all it was a stylish performance. At the end, however, the musicians seemed to be tired and the preexisting theatricality dropped to dangerous levels. Silviane Bellato had everything to be a charming Ilia - she knows her Mozart and has elegant phrasing, but her velvety voice lacks the edge to cut through the orchestra into the hall. Playing her Elettra as a sort of débauchée straying from some operetta (not a bad idea, although the replacement of hysteria for nymphomania doesn't make lots of sense), Janette Dornellas displays a strong rich soprano, solid from bottom to top. Although coloratura and floated pianissimi are not exactly natural for her, she is the kind of singer who has everything under control in the best way nature provided her. Because of that, her Idol mio was well sculpted, but not necessarily beguiling. On the other hand, she was entirely at home in D'Oreste, d´Ajacce. I feel inclined to say she should be more incisive about her words there, but then it would feel picky and maybe her comfortable-with-her-sexuality Elettra was supposed to sound that way. In the role of Idomeneo, Fernando Portari no longer has the dulcet voice of his Ferrando days, but the stronger and darker sound he offers now is more akin to the role. His naturalness with Italian declamation and tone colouring are indeed admirable and the choice for the more ornamented version of Fuor del mar is commendable, even if he had to chop a bit his otherwise smooth coloratura for extra breaths. I believe Theatro Municipal was lucky to find him; juding from recent broadcasts, La Scala and the Wiener Staatsoper have had bad weather on casting this role. Finally, crowing the whole performance, Luiza Francesconi offered an Idamante to the manner born. Her clean mezzo soprano is deeply rooted in rock-solid low notes, she has all the necessary expressive and technical devices to produce echt Mozartian phrasing, has a strong stage presence and looks great. Any opera house in the world would feel proud to feature this singer in this role.

*I write "supposed to" because the program never says that, in spite of what had been written by the local press. In any case, it sounds realistic.

• Fresh winds are blowing on the OSB

Roberto Minczuk, the conductor who has won the hearts of the audiences in São Paulo, is now the leading conductor with the Brazilian Symphonic Orchestra in Rio. Leaving the prestigious OSESP for the decadent OSB seemed to be risky, but judging from his Sunday concert at the Theatro Municipal, this man has cards under his sleeves. First of all, what a likeable person he is! The Sunday concert was conceived for younger audiences and Mr. Minczuk was amazingly at ease with a microphone, introducing the orchestra to the audience, making funny jokes (he is looking for an "pipe-organ donator" for the orchestra's new venue...) etc. His enthusiasm is so genuine and inspiring that, even if it is too early to make assessments, I can say that I have never seen the musicians so willing to give their best as that afternoon. Although they still have trouble with passages where there are "too many notes", the orchestral sound was richer and more ductile than in the previous years. I think Rio is very lucky to have Minczuk responsible for the city's leading orchestra. I'm eager to hear more from him.

Wednesday, May 10th 2006

• Describing the undescribable

The most unfrequent moviemaker around, Terence Malick made a movie on Pocahontas. This didn't seem promising, but I have enjoyed The Thin Red Line and decided to give it a chance. Lucky me. Two hours and a half of sheer poetry. Instead of telling the facts of this potentially saccharine story, Malick has decided to plunge into the mind and hearts of their characters avoiding ready-made psychology and offering a genuine insight into this most wonderful among adventures - having to challenge the unknown. From the mysterious paradisiacal landscapes and the imminent sensation of underlying physical danger to the discovery of unknown feelings. With marvelous vertiginously cut cinematographic streams of consciousness, exquisite photography, creative use of voice-over (for once in American movies, not explaining what we had perfectly learnt by ourselves from the images shown on screen) and immaculate soundtrack (intelligent musical associations of the opening bars of Wagner's Rheingold for the idea of flowing and transformation and also of Mozart, for the "heaven-on-Earth"-effect ), this entirely personal perspective makes the story paradoxically more universal, for everyone can readily identify with the excitement, wonder and apprehension of having to deal and being attracted for what you just don't know and understand. As we would say in Brazil, Malick was not afraid of being happy - he openheartedly relished in the description of feelings, portraying enamoring, disillusion, bliss and affection with masterly paintbrush. He was also very fortunate to find Q'orianka Kilcher. A friend of mine says that the camera is very fickle about actresses - for no reason it just "likes" some of them, regardless of talent, beauty or sex appeal. As much as Captain Smith, the camera has a loving eye for Kilcher - it gives her all the time of the world and it feels as if we could have yet a bit more of her.

Thursday, April 27th 2006

• Heil Dir, São Paulo!

I had not been in São Paulo for a long while - 2003 was my last visit - and, although I have always known I really like the town, I notice that I haven't really got it so far. Most people would imagine that a huge city like that is the dictionary example of urban hell, but the truth is that São Paulo, with its valley/hill perspectives, small almost suburban houses ocasionally pierced by a half-kitsch neo-classical tall building has a certain cozy unpretentious charm. As someone from Rio, I would say Copacabana is far more claustrophobic with its neverending walls of grey buildings.
Sankt Paulus der Koch muss sein
It is also true that restaurants there are wonderful. I have visited some no-frills Italian places where you can eat like a king. As a tribute to my father, I have also been at the Familia Mancini, a restaurant he always talks about. The fetuccini Mastroianni was really worth while the visit. Also as a tribute to Isabela, I have visited the trendy Café Suplicy, where they offer an extra-cream version of a cappuccino for the price of a (expensive) drink. Anyway, it was part of the echt-Jardins (the fashion district) experience. BTW, Rua Oscar Freire, São Paulo's answer to Milan's Via Monte Napoleone, is the less formidable elegant place I have ever been. It looks like an ordinary street anywhere else until you see something like Diesel or Armani popping out when you less expect. Maybe the bottom line is - when you are truly chic you don't have to trumpet that fact all over the place. Who knows?
Art, art, art
I have visited an unbelievable number of museums thanks to expert advice of my friend Maurício. I have to confess that visiting the MASP was truly disappointing. Once the prince among Brazilian museums, it exudes decadence now. Lina Bo Bardi's marvelous building has been conceived so as to exhibit the impressive collection (Boticelli, Bosch, Renoir, Manet, Van Gogh et al) in glass stands in an open hall surrounded by windows. The idea was that one would be able to see the paintings in filtered natural light as if they floated above the urban landscape. When I first visited the museums some years ago, it used to be like that (follow the link and scroll down to the 11th picture to see how it used to be). Now the glass stands are gone, the windows are shut and walls have been built. There is insufficient information to visitors, temporary exhibits are bureaucratic, the museum-shop doesn't provide postcards of the works in their collections. My conclusion is that the MASP seriously needs a new director.

The other museum which has captured my attention is the MAC/USP, the museum of contemporary art at the São Paulo University. Their permanent collection displays handpicked masterpieces by Kandinsky, Modigliani, Calder, de Chirico et al, the facilities are excellent and the tiny museum shop is quite good. I have even bought a book with the cute naïf paintings by the Japanese artist Taizi Harada for the price of a Big Mac menu.

A museum which I have always enjoyed is the Pinacoteca do Estado, a wonderful neo-classical building entirely made of rough bricks. The exhibit on Mannerism has some interesting paintings by Tintoretto and El Greco and a profusion of portraits of David with Goliath's head - I had never realized that this was a "popular" theme then. The permanent collection includes some charming XIXth century Brazilian paintings we should see more often.
O süsseste Wonne! Seligste Weib!
The main purpose of my visit to São Paulo was, however, the famous Sala São Paulo, the city's main concert hall and home to the OSESP, arguably the leading orchestra in South America. The hall has been built in an old train station and has received the most sophisticated acoustic treatment available. For example, the height of the ceiling is adjustable according to the repertoire. It is a beautiful hall and certainly one where the public is treated to the most delicious snacks for the best price ever (after all, this is São Paulo). That afternoon, the programme started with Hugo Wolf's tone poem inspired by Kleist's Penthesilea, a piece I had never listened to before. Conductor Ira Levin had his clumsy moments but the nobility of the string section in this orchestra saved the day. The second part of the concert featured Wagner's Die Walküre, act I. Although Levin has been receiving a great deal of bad press, his Karajan-esque approach served well the lushness of the orchestral sound (strongly aided by the impressively immediate acoustic of the hall - we are simply flooded with sound) and allowed clean and natural violin passagework. The diminished lighting also highlighted the intimate atmosphere and spiritual communion between artists and the audience built by the soloist's emotional commitment and sense of style. As Sieglinde, Violeta Urmana was at her most feminine and rich-toned. The velvety quality of her voice, both in soft and loud dynamics is one of the marvels of this world. I also find praiseworthy that, unlike most mezzo-tinted exponents of this part, she avoids a grand, larger-than-life approach to this role of a suffering young woman whose surrendering to passion should not sound earth-shattering but touching and disarming. As Siegmund, American tenor Stephen Gould displayed thorough technique and unusual attentiveness to the text. He has a healthy low register and the top acquires the necessary brightness in the most exposed moments. There are some tense and constricted patches in his range, but the tone is pleasant all the way and his musicianship is beyond any suspicion. Last but not least, the American baritone Stephen Bronk, a resident of Brazil, was a forceful all-round perfect Hunding. It is a pity, though, that the supertitles displayed such a poor translation, with spelling errors in Portuguese and other bizarreries.
The theatres
I must confess I had expected more of the theatre programme in a city famous for its theatrical life. So I decided to take some risks. Newspaper Folha de São Paulo published a rather unpleasant review of Patrícia Melo's play The Kidney. She is a respected author and the whole criticism involed the casting of TV-personality Adriane Galisteu in the leading role (actually a replacement for an actress whose talents are more than dubious to my taste). The fact is that the article made me curious. Besides, the cast features two actors I really like.

As it is, The Kidney is an interesting play, the kind of comedy exploring a broad sense of humour which has strong appeal with uneducated theatre-goers, with an unusual and most welcome sense of cynicism, black humour and theatrical references though. There is a somewhat clumsy transition to the denoument, but the final volte-face is truly surprising and also illuminating. Folha de São Paulo accuses Galisteu of making her character Rosário, a bookworm desperately in need of getting a life, a doll in a play for children. Although I agree she looks too good for her character, I believe she unintentionally brought some truth to her part. Although her character has an obsession for reading, her lines don't make us believe she is neither an intellectual nor particularly intelligent. With her enthusiastic but a bit dumb-blond attitude, she makes the character's naïveté realistic - I have met some girls like that. Moreover, she has a good voice and moves spontaneously on stage. I think her performance is a bit more than "not spoiling the show". And that is particularly complimentary when there are the fabulous Ivone Hoffman and Bruce Gomlevsky playing her soap-opera obsessed mother and her opera-queen-wannabe brother. They are both hilariouys and relish the broad comic gestures con gusto. Many an experienced actress would be overshadowed by these two... I have found sceneries and sountrack ingenuous, but would have preferred a different actor for the key role of Augusto. His onedimensional portrayal tunes down an important element of the play, the underlying danger.

It is most curious, though, that one big hit in São Paulo's theatre, with the blessing of some reviews, is a staging of Neil Simon's Jakes' Women. I have the strong impression that Antonio Fagundes is the kind of actor who wants to be everything in a show. Bureaucratic directing, unefficient cast, ugly sceneries - everything is thoroughly provided in order to make sure that everything is about him. I wonder why one would think like that, if one has the talents of Fagundes, though. He is a sensational actor, who uses his stage skills like a virtuoso playing his violin. If there was something close to good around him, I am sure his performance would be even greater than it was. As it is, it made me regret having spent my money on that, especially when there are so many good restaurants nearby! It is also strange that Folha de São Paulo had been revolted with Adriane Galisteu when some actresses in this play make her seem a Cate Blanchett in comparison, with the notable exception of Amanda Acosta, who has a touching voice and presence in the part of Julie. It was not a surprise for me reading that she has a career as a singer and is a trained soprano.

Finally, I have bought a digital camera. Since I have learned to take picture with an old Nikon, I still have to adapt with all those buttons and functions. In any case, you can sample some pictures of my trip here.

Sunday, April 17th 2006

• Best movie

Although everybody with an IQ above 60 knows that the Academy Awards has nothing to do with art, the force of habit makes us wonder whether the Oscar has gone to the right hands. Last week I finally saw Bennett Miller's Capote and I have no doubt that this is the best North-American movie last year - Philip Seymour Hoffman has always been a favourite and he is magnificent here. One could watch his face for hours, so rich the expression and intelligent his character building. Truth be said, the whole cast is amazing. And having both Seymour Hoffman and Catherine Keener in the same frame is worth 10 times the price of the ticket. I would like to write about the austere and elegant colour-palette, the amazing dialogues that never gravitate around the obvious... but that's what one does when one feels obliged to convince readers about the quality of a movie. And Capote doesn't need rhetorical devices - its quality speaks for itself.

• Movies again

La Demoiselle d'Honneur is Claude Chabrol at its vintage best. I have always loved the classical directness of Chabrol's movies and the way his "back to basics" always makes things look instead more complex. Here the story could have run dangerously close to the "sexy-gal-gets-nuts" cliché, but the dryness and naturalism (in the literary sense) of the story telling, the utter charm of the characters, the marvelous acting (the cast is so consistently excellent, that I feel uncomfortable to give pride of place to the leadings actors, the fabulous Benoît Magimel and Laura Smet) and the unashamed sense of (black?) humour make it something very special. My friend Marcos asked me - what kind of symbology is involved in the sculpture named Flora? I would rather point out the fact that, although the main female character is named Senta, it is rather the youngman who - as much as the Wagnerian character - idealizes the representation of the ideal partner in need of redemption. On the other hand, does he himself need to be redempted from suburban proper monotony?

• Alcina from Paris

Saturday I listened to a broadcast of Handel's Alcina from Paris. It was a 2005 stylish if a tiny bit unimaginative performance conducted by Cristophe Rousset, in which Sylvia Tro Santafé was a superlative Ruggiero, dazzling in the arie di bravura and naturally touching in the arie d'affetto. Christine Schäfer was an expressive Sourceress if a bit out of sorts with the technical demands made on her. It is a pity that a singer more adept with fioriture has not been chosen, since the very fast account of Ombre palide might have worked in an interesting unusual way. Ingela Bohlin is not the kind of high soprano one would expect to find in the role of Morgana, but she adapted the part to her light lyric soprano more successfully than many a famous rival. Unfortunately, Marjana Mijanovic sounded too pale of tone to my taste in the difficult role of Bradamante.

My dream team for Alcina: Dorothea Röschmann, Sandrine Piau, Joyce DiDonato, Stephanie Blythe. René Jacobs conducting.

Wednesday, April 5th 2006

 

• Remains from the trip

I have recently discussed both with Lia and Isabela about art (one of the reasons remains in the fact that Lia is a painter) and how some prejudices about contemporary production seem to be in a process of revision. For example, for a long while, it has been a given truth that "hoch" painting is supposed to be abstract (or even conceptual), at least in Brazil. But abstract painting has been so much abused to a kind of "chain production" of uninspired stuff to be hung in lobbies that just hanging a figurative painting in your wall was suddenly comparable to an act of courage. Judging from the windows of art galleries in New York, it seems that this seems to be the new trend there. I remember having discussed with Lia that computer graphic design must have something to do with it, because it has rekindled the interest of working from a figure, a photo and expanded the possibilities of treatment and technique even to banal objects. And suddenly the possibilities offered by the technique of painting (volume, texture, colours) seem to see to the same kind of approach of graphic design, publicity etc. In a very cold day, while walking at Madison Avenue, I saw some paintings in a gallery and asked for the name of the artist so that I could read more about him on the Internet. I think he is a good example of this "new approach" and, more than that (since I am no expert and don't intend to give the impression that I am), I just like his work. His name is Vincent Hron and you can see his photos of his painting following this link.

Sunday, March 26th 2006

• Cantos de la latinidad

During the marvelous Ewa Podles's recital at the Avery Fisher Hall, I had the luck to find a friend and colleague, Stela Maria Brandão, a singer and professor whose hard work on trying to make Brazilian repertoire more widely known abroad is what I call a true service to art and her country. She introduced me to mezzo-soprano Nan Maro Babakhanian, who is organizing the International Festival of Voice, Guitar, Piano and Collaborative Piano on July in Granada (for more information, click on this link). By a coincidence, Stela will be in Barcelona one month before, where she is a guest teacher at the Festival of Song. We talked about both assignments and both of them are so interesting and valuable for anyone interested in Spanish and Latin-American repertoire that I told them I would advertise them here.

• More reviews

In the Mozart and Handel discographies, reviews of Mozart's La Clemenza di Tito on DVD from Paris and Handel's Giulio Cesare in Egitto on DVD from both Paris and Sydney.

Sunday, March 19th 2006

• Wien, Orchester meiner Träume

As I have said before, it is so difficult to judge an orchestral concert and say something definitive about an orchestra based on one performance. As it is, Riccardo Muti is one of my very favourite conductors and the Vienna Philharmonic one of my very favourite orchestras. Their concert at the Carnegie Hall in a thoroughly enjoyable programme - Schubert's Rosamunde and 4th symphony, plus Mozart's Sinfonia Concertante and R. Strauss's Tod und Verklärung - reserved some surprises. Because of Muti's acknowledged reputation as a Mozartian, I felt a bit puzzled by his somewhat overelegant account of the sinfonia concertante, where the orchestra's spalla and main violist's Einverständnis was truly remarkable. On the other hand, the Straussian Tone Poem seemed to lack some grandeur (the brass section had more than one moment where a more patrician and clean sound would have been helpful). That said, the unique blended of sections and the uniquely crystalline strings in this orchestra are one of the wonders of the modern world. In the Schubertian part of the programme, Muti seemed to be at his most masterly, handling his orchestra the way a singer would phrase in a Bellini opera. Some of the sounds produced by the Viennese were so exceptional and otherworldly that one couldn't help feeling the enthusiasm one feels when witnessing a miracle. The excitement of the audience has certainly moved the orchestra to produce one of the most exciting account of the Verdi's Overture to La Forza del Destino, where Muti's legendary mastery of fast tempi and clean articulation made for the orchestral display of one's life. The guys who played it at the Met on Tuesday and their conductor should be tied to the seats at the Carnegie Hall and forced to listen to it a hundred times to understand how this music should sound.

• Mr. Sloane and entertainment

"One should never help the obvious", says a friend of mine with a lifetime experience with theatre. So seems to believe director Scott Ellis on staging Joe Orton's Entertaining Mr Sloane. Although one could expect a powerful amount of underlying nastiness and violence in a staging of this play, this production seems to deny understatement or even overstatement as an expressive tool. The whole action takes place in a house in a wastefill area and this might point out to the fact that there must be a subtle sense of disgust related to the events here depicted. However, as staged here, the proceedings look extraordinarily clean. The casting of Chris Carmack just reinforces that. Of course this is a role hard to cast, and Carmack seems to have done his homework both at dramatic and fitness academy. However, I wonder if his thoroughly good looks don't make the siblings' interest for him more "acceptable" in the Uncle Vanya's sense that beauty is to blame for disorder. Maybe if Mr. Sloane was just a young sturdy fellow, the sordidness might have come to the fore. Both Jan Maxwell and Richard Easton are entirely satisfying in the roles of Kath and Kemp, handling their British accents to great effect. Alec Baldwin is a bit less adept in this particular aspect, but his personal charisma and unfailing comedy timing are irresistible.

Saturday, March 4th 2006

• High-speed Ibsen

On my way through Nevins St., I couldn't make my mind whether director Robyn Nevin likes Ibsen or not. When a director believes a text to lack rhythm, he usually has it adapted. So did Ms. Nevin on asking Andrew Upton to fix it up here and there. But, even then, it seems, she felt the play needed still some extra energy. That must be the reason for the peripathetic approach to Hedda Gabler, here transformed into a black-humour comedy with frantic dialogue delivery and overbusy acting. It is hard to move an audience with the egg-timer on, but you can always extract some laughs from them, when you have the dream-team of a cast. In the title role, Cate Blanchett proved to be one of the most technically-accomplished stage actresses of her generation. She could rush as an athlete from one theatrical gesture to the other with breathtaking virtuoso quality. However, the fast-forward approach made her Hedda more excentric than desperate. The touch of repressed fierceness that should take the audience to the edge of their seats - this sort of hallmark of the title role - has been unfortunately denied by the director to her brilliant but helpless actress. In this sense, Justine Clark was given more operating space to play fast speed in her favour in order to portray an an anxious high-strung Thea. Aden Young was similarly at ease as Eilert, but his expressive palette was accordingly less varied. In the role of Jorgen Tesman, Anthony Weigh seemed a bit lost - high speeds don't really go with what his character is supposed to be. I was inclined to say the cast was homogeneously competent, but I' m afraid I have to single out Hugo Weaving, in the role of Judge Brack. He alone could find the way to find dramatic thuthfulness in spite of the marathon required from the cast. An exceptional performance. One must point out that costumes and settings revealed extremely good taste.

Friday, March 3rd 2006

• Dalila et...

What's the point of being a seductress if there is nothing tempting on stage? That's the problem Olga Borodina had to deal with tonight. Her extra-rich mezzo soprano, sultry from bottom to top, is the very definition of suppleness. However, her sophisticated sense of phrasing and impressive vocal resources did not dispel a certain atmosphere of routine - but I guess it must be impossible to be eletrifying when you're playing to the void. Jon Frederic West's heldentenor has a sort of stentorian metallic bleating quality which is quite challenging to the ears. In the past, he used to be more efficient about his top register too. Now the ending of Mon coeur s'ouvre à ta voix takes him to his very limites. On the other hand, although Jean-Philippe Lafont's baritone has some rough patches in the top register, his imagination, idiomatic French and tonal variety certainly pay off. No wonder Borodina seemed to be at her best when singing with him. Emmanuel Villaume is entirely at ease with late Romantic style and was able to join clarity and voluptuous sounds - only string fast divisions could be more clearly articulated.

Thursday, March 2nd 2006

• Nothing like having no expectations

Having arrived too late for a show the ticket of which had costed me a great deal of money, I had lost hopes of having a good time until I saw myself in front of Walter Kerr Theatre. I could buy a low-priced ticket and the pleasure to discover a most enjoyable play named Doubt, whose author - I would discover later - had been awarded the Pulitzer last year. John Patrick Shanley has the gift of fluent dialogues with the right larger-than-life touch which is in the heart of good theatre. He handles here a difficult subject eschewing all the clichés he could have easily let himself to indulge in. And he has Dame Eileen Atkins in a sensational performance, alternatively formidable and touching in the right moments. Next to her, Ron Eldard's vocal range seemed a bit restricted, even if his character building is intelligent and subtle. In the small role of Mrs. Muller, Adrienne Lennox found truth and intensity. Only Jena Malone - in her Broadway debut - seemed ill at ease in a performance entirely built on an artifficial and monotone falsetto-ish speaking voice. Director Doug Hughes was wise enough to give his actors all the time and space they needed - and John Lee Beatty's ingenuous settings also deserve to be mentioned.

Wednesday, March 1st 2006

• Forza and its weaknesses

Italians tend to think that there is a kind of curse about Forza del Destino. Supposedly bad things happen when this opera is performed. At the Met today, except for someone throwing up two rows in front of me during the end of act I (I would paraphrase Beecham and say that, even if this is gross, it is some kind of valid criticism), nothing exceptionally bad happened last night.

Leonora is a fiendishly difficult role and very few sopranos could pass through it without some scratches. Some of them, such as Leontyne Price, made those scratches a virtue. Unfortunately that was not the case of Deborah Voigt. Her voice does not take well to low tessitura, where it acquires a raspish and unfocused quality. It also seemed that the constant descent to low notes seemed to displace he rest of her range throughout, with the exception of purely lyrical passages. Also, her Italian belongs rather to Bleeker Street than to the Italian peninsula. I can't say that Preziosilla is a good role for Ildiko Komlosi. Her once beautiful tone has grown more robust, vibrant (overvibrant?) and metallic, but still lacks the necessary spaciousness. Also, with her aristocratic manners, she seemed a bit silly trying to behave "gipsy". As for Salvatore Licitra, I am afraid that my statement that he sounded better every time I see him is no longer true. Yesterday, I cannot really say he was at his best. Because it is a voice of unusual quality and beauty and his manners reveal good taste and musicianship, one can put up with a tone sometimes clumsily placed and straight unrounded top notes. Fortunately this did not damage a beautiful Solene in quest'ora, where all that evoked a certain vulnerability. Mark Delavan's also wanted some focus - as a result his voice sounded rather yawny and uningratiating. As Carlo is one of the less pleasant characters in the operatic literature, one can put up with that. Although Samuel Ramey's voice has lots most of its usual firmness, it still has the necessary authority, volume and weight of tone for the role of Father Guardiano, but I wonder if it is going to sound perverse that the overall most satisfying singer in the cast is the one taking the role of Melitone, the Spanish baritone Juan Pons, who stole the show in all his scenes, refusing any kind of comic unspontaneous clichés and building up a convincingly funny ill-humoured fellow.

Gianandrea Noseda seemed to give pride of place to excitement and rhythmic propulsion, but the orchestra sounded rather unwieldy. Worst of all, the lack of blending between strings and brass made for a band-like sound which is unlovely, lacking nobility and the opposite of what a Romantic orchestra should sound. Because of that, the overture sounded like circus music. Giancarlo del Monaco's production was a bit uncreative, but not necessarily offensive to the eyes. However, acting was so hammy and lacking timing that some less familiar member of the audience mistook the whole show for a comedy. By a miraculous turn of events, the last scene seemed to be touched by the hands of the gods of theatre: Voigt rounded her tone for Pace, pace, offering some stunning effects either in mezza or full voice and the orchestra finally seemed to be warmed up to real full-toned warm sounds. At least we could go home feeling less miserable than Alvaro in the end of it.

Tuesday, February 28th 2006

• Traviata, but not misguided

Although Angela Gheorghiu can still boast to be an international diva, the truth is that she has been a bit out of the limelight these days. Her return to the Met, in a production by Zeffirelli (with whom she had had her share of argument) may be the first sign of her comeback to the very fore of the operatic stardom. As everybody knows, Violetta is the role that made Gheorghiu famous. Many years have passed since then, but the Rumanian soprano is still one of the leading exponents of this part. Although the velvety quality of her soprano runs sometime dangerously close to a veiled sound, hers is still a seductive immediately recognizable voice with impressive resources. One might point out that her Violetta has now lost the kind of uniqueness that illuminates one' s concept of a role - such as Callas or Cotrubas did in the past. That said, her performance in such a difficult role is really consistent throughout the opera. She was amazingly at ease with all required from her and entirely available to concentrate on interpretation. Her coloratura in act I was more functional than breathtaking, but she didn' t for a moment seem overwhelmed by it, even in the conductor's fast tempi chosen for Sempre libera. In act II, her beautiful usage of Italian language and tone colouring really brought her Violetta to life and, in act III, she was able to depict the character' s frail health without disfiguring her cantabile. Her graceful figure and charisma are praiseworthy - also her unexaggerated if not electrifying acting.

As for Jonas Kaufmann, I wonder if his baritonal tenor, whose top register only acquires the right brightness with a certain kind of di forza vocalization, is the right instrument for Alfredo. The results lacked some graciousness and finish. I kept asking myself if his approach was unitalianate, but that seemed not to be the case. Only his phrasing lacked the liquidity associated to lyric tenors in this repertoire. He did go for the top note in his act II cabaletta, but the rest of what he had to sing there seemed to be sacrificed in order for him to achieve that. His macho attitude seemed to please the audience too, although there was more than a hint of artificiality in his otherwise agile and energetic acting.

Anthony Michaels-Moore' s clean spacious baritone fills a Verdian line most beautifully, but he occasionally attacks his top notes from below.

Marco Armiliato's unfussed and forward-moving approach to the score is certainly refreshing, and the clarity of ensemble praiseworthy. I only feel that a lack of refulgence in the strings made for a certain "band-like" sound that robbed the score of some of its nobility. Zeffirelli' s production has realistic and exquisite sets, but actors' direction leaves something to be desired. All in all, the most dramatic moments seemed rather tame and the whole show carried a certain "large-gestures-for-the--to-the last-seat-in-the-house" attitude.

Monday, February 27th 2006

• Force of nature

At the end of Ewa Podles' s recital at the Avery Fisher Hall everybody kept asking each other why this singer is not in the first rank of soloists in the leading opera houses and concert halls in the world. Her performance this Sunday was a powerful display of artistry and vocal technique. In Salvatore Sciarrino's expert and colourful arrangement of Rossini' s Giovanna d' Arco, the Polish contralto seemed entirely at ease either in expressive recitative or in florid passages, using each note, including those in very fast divisions, to its dramatic purpose. Later in Mussorgsky' s Songs and Dances of Death, she used her theatrical skills to the best. There is something eerie (in the best sense of the word) in her tone, and that was used to great effect in the depictions of death, while her endless resources of tone-colouring rendered the characterization there implied virtually perfect. She was a believable mother, young woman, soldier and commander of massacre. The encores reserved for the enthralled audience two deeply heartfelt performances of the Young Maiden' s aria from Prokofiev' s Alexander Nevsky and the Arioso from Tchaikovsky' s Moscow cantata. I have never affected a strong congeniality with Russian repertoire (to my own loss, I know), but - if it needs an advocate - Podles seemed to be a persuasive one. I even bought the disc. One must not forget to mention the Moscow Chamber Orchestra' s distinctive full and expressive sound, not entirely at home in Haydn' s "La Passione" , which sounded Brucknerian and unattractive, but certainly proved to be in great advantage in Barshai' s arrangement of Shostakovich' s Chamber Symphony in C Minor.

• An avis rara

If Lakme sang like Eglise Gutierrez, Nikalantha would have butchered the whole town after her performance of the Bell Song - who would have remained insensitive to her floating 100% agile velvety soprano? There is something of the young Mirella Freni (albeit in a slimmer and higher mode) that suggest innocence and affection, which is simply irresistible. If I had to be picky (and if I'm not, nobody will believe she was that good anyway…), because of her amazing ease with high mezza voce, she relies too much on that to get away with the most melodic passages, where more varied tone colouring could have produced more intense pathos. In any case, while listening to those immaterial high pianissimi, I was entirely satisfied. The Armenian Yehishe Manuchayan required from me a certain time to adjust to his not immediately attractive tenor. His first octave is a bit nasal, and the second is a bit unfocused. At his best, he sounded like the poorman' s Frank Lopardo. That said, in the two last acts, he produced singing of sensitive and stylish nature. James Morris is not a singer one would expect to find in a French opera. He took some time to warm up and, when he did not sound a bit curdled, the power and authority of his singing was most rewarding. Among the minor roles, I must point out Stephanie Weiss, who, in the tiny role of Rose, proved to have a charming lyric soprano. I must point out that Eve Queler is a thorough stylist in this repertoire - she resisted Italianate bombastics and German overseriousness and guaranteed an elegant and touching approach throughout the score. The Opera Orchestra of New York is surprisingly consistent, offering perfect ensemble and noble string sounds. Also, the New York Choral Society has clean enough a sound to make many a opera house envious, especially the Met.

Saturday, February 26th 2006

• Off to New York

I'll be away for a while and, if I have some time, I intend to keep updates in a pre-historic file. In any case, when I'm back I'll fix everything up in the usual blog format.

Wednesday, February 22nd 2006

• English images

I left The Taming of the Shrew in the Shakespeare Retold series behind because I couldn't see very well how this story would work in a modernized setting. Well, my compliments to screenwriter Sally Wainwright: her retelling is masterly in the sense she could deal with the politically incorrect aspects of the plot without making them correct, but putting them into a perspective when they actually reveal some charm. All that without trying to make the whole thing serious, but keeping a certain buffoonery which is an essential part of the play. Although the style of acting required here is a bit over-the-top, Shirley Henderson very expertly catches the shifts of humor of her Catherine, here radical almost fanatical opposition politician. As for Rufus Sewell, I guess he has never done anything better as a Petrucchio suffering Peter-Pan-syndrome with cross-dressing episodes (!).

Also, my good friend Luís Felipe brought me straight from England the DVD of Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice. I am glad the American ending has not been available in Brazil - it feels too Sex and the City for the circumstances and adds nothing. I am happy to end the movie with the marvelous Donald Sutherland in bittersweet mood. The featurettes are lovely, especially the visit to the exquisite mansions chosen as locations. It made me feel terribly frustrated for knowing so little of England! Pity it is so expensive to be a tourist there…

Sunday, February 18th 2006

• Movies and expectation again

I have been thinking a lot about whether I became too particular about movies. Maybe listening to too much music has developed in me the habit of expecting this sort of "enlightenment through feelings" that is the key feature of musical art - and maybe cinema is not necessarily about that. I don't know. In any case this week I could experience again the clash of expectation and reality about movies. For example, George Clooney's Good Night and Good Luck. I had no clue about the movie and decided to see it because some friends had invited me to do it. And I thank them for the invitation. This is one of the most aesthetically and thematically exact movies I have seen these days - done with classical restraint, elegance and economy of means. The screenplay masterly finds the right balance between History and story-telling, resisting the temptation of being didactic, propaganda-ish or panegyrical. The black-and-white grainy photography, the jazzy soundtrack, the dream-team casting (Robert Downey, Jr., and Patricia Clarkson in short roles, for example), the straight-to-the-matter script, the importance of its message in an age in which arts and information are supposed to be blended with the entertainment industry - all that makes it a very special film.

On the other hand, those who read this blog know how much I like Woody Allen and may imagine how anxious I was to see the movie the director himself called his supreme masterpiece. A friend of mine had told me this is a movie those who dislike Allen would like. I wonder if those who like him would share the same opinion. I can't recognize Allen in one still of this movie - and this has nothing to do with the fact that it wasn't shot in New York. Everybody says 'I love you', for instance, has 2/3 set in Venice and in Paris - and the same loving eye applied to NY has been applied to these cities. In Match Point, London looks quite plain, as seen from on outsider, and beautiful manors in the English countryside are to be the appealing sceneries in the movie. However, I still find unsettling to see all that green lawns and blond wheat-fields in a Woody Allen movie after all those years of Santo Loquasto's Whistler-like narrower colour palette. Still more unsettling is the slow self-indulgent rhythm of dialogues. It felt as if the British cast approach Allen's dialogues as if they had been written by Bernard Shaw or something like that. The result is comic timing largely loss and a pompous approach to the more dramatic scenes. I am sure this is not the fault of the talented cast, but it seems that the director told his actors something like "Act English!" and they ended on being self-conscious. Many have said that the movie is a kind of pastiche of George Stevens' A Place in the Sun. With some opera added. There must be something in the air in NY about Theodore Dreiser's An American Tragedy and opera, I guess. In any case, the plot is far from original and resents the absence of the director's personal touch. The idea of opera might have something to do with the artificiality and grandiloquence intended here, but its existence in the movie didn't work for me. I found charming to read the credits with Caruso's voice, but the intimate old recording acoustics seemed rather misplaced to me in a movie which is everything but intimate. I also found the Otello/Iago scene in the assassination scene also disturbing, as when one is listening to music and has a movie on the TV at the same time. I also couldn't understand why the Royal Opera House was denied its orchestra in the "live at the opera" scenes. Are we supposed to believe that the British Endowment to the Arts is so low as to prevent the nation's leading opera company to have a band? To make me look more picky and snob (to my own shame), I cannot say I like the leading couple. Jonathan Rhys-Meyers seems entirely at a loss about what style of acting he would adopt. It seems he took the safe choice of doing very little under the disguise of "economic acting". And why does he have such a weird clumsy gait in this movie? As for Scarlett Johannsen, although she is all right irresistible, I think she is too "green" for this kind of role. She does seduction pretty well, even if an oversmoky speaking voice allows very little variety, but is uncomfortable as a hysterical desperate paramour. Finally, I can't tell if my dislike has to do with my disappointment. I just wonder why Allen has decided to do a movie he had already done so beautifully, which is Crime and Misdemeanours.

Other film seen with no expectation was Paul Haggis's Crash - a movie which would certainly be harmed by any hope of its being good. Expecting nothing, I enjoyed what I got. Being the screenwriter of Million Dollar Baby, Haggis should know the value of understatement. As it is, the plot is too "manipulated" for comfort - a sort of clumsy Short Cuts with a moral. It is refreshing, though, the story's playing with the concept of prejudice as presupposition. In the middle of all that, two interesting episodes: one involving Thandie Newton as a rich African American woman and Matt Dillon as a racist policeman who harasses her in a day only to save her life in the next day and other involving Michael Peña as a Latino hard-working father who witnesses a "miracle" when an Iranian unsatisfied client tries to shoot him.

Last but not least, I have to confess: I love movies based on Jane Austen and, even if reviewers say Joe Wright's Pride and Prejudice is routine, I still had a great time with it. The images are beautiful, the camerawork in the ball scenes is breathtaking, the settings and costumes are exquisite, the music is charming and the cast is marvelous. Brenda Blethyn and Donald Sutherland are truly magnificent, Matthew Macfadyen is simply the perfect Mr. Darcy (even compared to Colin Firth in the BBC series) and Kiera Knightley uses her "sweetheart" manners to great effect as Lizzie Bennett.

Saturday, February 11th 2006

• More about movies and expectation

My friend Isabela accuses me of not getting the point in Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain. The idea would be showing that NOTHING is happening, although those people love each other immensely, because of constraints of society. Therefore, expecting a flood of emotions, even if repressed, would be against the very idea that guides the whole film. I could sense that this might be the point, but - again - I could get it only intellectually.

On the other hand, I had no expectations about Wong Kar Wai's 2046. I like In the Mood for Love, but went to the theatre to see 2046 completely clueless and left it far more than positively impressed. Let's start with the drawback: I always feel that Wong Kar Wai is too self-indulgent about the length of his movies and this one is no exception. That said, the thorough sense of beauty in every scene is more than compensation. Cinematography, soundtrack, casting, dialogues - everything is chosen and realized scrumptiously. This kind of Tales of Hofmann (Offenbach's, of course) with a certain Fellinian touch in its sub-plots and character-building has, noblesse oblige, its own Claudia Cardinale, the delicious Zhang Ziyi, in her sexiest and most intense performance so far. A film to be seen more than once.

Sunday, February 5th 2005

• Expectation and criticism

It is very difficult to know how objetive a reviewer can be and his psychological disposition prior to watch a movie, for example, might play an important part on what he is going to write about it. For example, Ang Lee's Brokeback Mountain was supposed to be a must-see. Being a fan of Lee's, I ran to the theatre next to me only to feel hugely disappointed. I know writing dialogues for unsophisticated cowboys must be a difficult task, but barring all kind of dramatic confrontation has to be the wrong answer. I know - human mind would never imagine something like that - Heath Ledger offers dense acting the silences of which should speak more than words, but unfortunately that was not enough. All the suffering, the loneliness, lack of communication, frustration, hopelessness involved in that situation (and if you have seen James Ivory's Maurice, you'll know what I'm talking about - and, yes, I know, the movie was based on E.M. Forster) are largely absent of the movie. As it is, the movie is the strongest defense of heterosexuality I have ever seen. As portrayed in the movie, being gay is the most boring thing that can happen in someone's life. I was wondering why those guys bothered to attend their meetings all those years. Even the sheep had more fun than they had (and they risked to be devoured by coyottes). Unless the idea was meeting with nature in a XIXth century Romanticism Waldseligkeit atmosphere. But then dialogues are far better in the likes of Chateaubriand.

On the other hand, I was made to understand I should dislike Rob Marshall's Memoirs of a Geisha. And he has directed Chicago - so it all made sense. But then, starting from expectation zero, I had far more fun with it than with Ang Lee's movie. If I am not to learn anything about life in a movie, at least I hope to be entertained. And that operetta approach to Japan, with all the artifficial clichés, is a feast to the eyes. I guess those who really know about Japan must feel indignant, but - although I am always curious about this fascinating country - I am still very very very far from being a connoisseur. In any case, if he shuts his brain down, even a specialist on Japanese History could have some fun with it - especially when you have Gong Li on the screen. If you're a fan of hers such as I am, don't miss it. She is mesmerizing and seems to be at the peak of her legendary beauty.

Saturday, February 4th 2005

• More January anniversaries

It is another coincidence that took me to discover a writer relatively unknown to me the day after his birthday (January 26th 1781). Until now Achim von Arnim was to me the co-author of Des Knaben Wunderhorn, but having read one of his novellas in a anthology of fantastic stories made me ready for more. This most fascinating story is called Melück Marie Brainville, die Hausprophetin aus Arabien. This literary stravaganza gathers all kinds of archetypes of Roman literature - pirates, theatre, the exotic Orient, witchcraft, étude des moeurs, you name it... It does have something of Balzac "philosophic" stories, but Arnim is more spontaneous and less cynical - and his style is colourful à la E.T.A. Hofmann. If you read French, this is the only version I could find on-line.

• Making the exotic familiar

No, I'm not speaking of Anthropology. It has been a serious limitation to explore some of the operatic repertoire composed by Slavic composers not understanding a coma of their language, especially in not-completely-melodic composers, such as Janacek, whose Jenufa I came to appreciate thanks to videos and subtitles. Listening only has been a bit of a trial to my patience - handling small libretti and not concentrating on music does not help it at all. Today at Parterre's Unnatural Acts of Opera I saw this Eugene Oneguin translated to English exquisitely sung by Margaret Price and John Shirley-Quirk and, for the first time, I really had fun with this opera, which counts with my good disposition due to the source of its libretto, Pushkin's brilliant novel-in-sonets. It is a pity, though, that I cannot find time to learn Russian or Czech, the charming consonant effects of which sound really charming to my ears.

Saturday, January 28th 2006

• Lots of Mozart

A coincidence (?) made my day an unplanned Mozartian celebration. First of all, I have listened to a broadcast from Vienna - Idomeneo, brilliantly conducted by the sadly underrated Mozartian conductor Seiji Ozawa. The performance was graced by the crystalline soprano of Genia Kühlmeier, whose credentials in this repertoire have been thankfully recognized by people like Riccardo Muti. As I have felt live both in Vienna and New York, one takes some minutes to adjust to Barbara Frittoli's smoky vibrant soprano, but once you do that nothing but good surprises await you. Here she easily produced a caressing Idol mio and a truly formidable D'Oreste, d'Ajacce - the forceful staccato figure that ultimates Elettra's hysteria done with craftsmanship. Unfortunately, Angelika Kirchschlager was not at her freshest-toned, but still a reliable boyish Idamante. It is truly a pity that Neil Shicoff has been cast in a role made impossible for him by his technique and the wear in his tone. In any case, I wouldn't miss the opportunity to grab a performance like this because of the sopranos, orchestra and conductor involved.

A visit to Deutsche Grammophon website showed me also some Mozartian treats - Abbado's Zauberflöte is due to be released in April, and MacKerras' Tito in March. There are some previews of the latter in their website. Judging from the tiny samples, the conducting is classical in the Böhm-ian sense of the word, extra clarity and lightness added by the Scottish Chamber Orchestra; Kozena's stretta to Parto, ma tu ben mio is beautifully done if too feminine. Rainer Trost is a bit nervous with Se all'impero. He does his fioriture a tempo but the articulation is a bit weird. There is too little of Hillevi Martinpelto's Vitellia - and this is a role that doesn't seem quite fit to her temper and manners. In any case, I'm curious for this one.

• More samples

Thanks to Vilaine Fille, whose beautiful blog should inspire me to do something tidier of this humble blog of mine, I could listen to some interesting stuff today: Irene Minghini-Cattaneo's powerful Amneris in the old Sabajno's recording (which sounds btw marvelous for its age) and an excerpt of La Sonnambula with Juan Diego Flórez. I have to confess Vilaine Fille was here a healthy influence on me. I have a broadcast from Vienna (with Stefania Bonfadelli) when I hadn't found Flórez really expressive, but in the performance available at her website, he really shows not only imagination but better control of dynamics and tone-colouring. And Mary Dunleavy, whose Pamina didn't impress me that much in the broadcast from the Met, sounds so gentle and adorable here! I wish I could hear a bit more of her Amina...

Friday, January 27th 2006

 

• Titus from Brussels

Listening to this broadcast, I realised how sad it is when you have the disposition to like something, but fails to accomplish that in spite of all your best intentions. That is my case with Jacobs' Mozart. There is no scholarly reasoning able to convince me that his is the right approach to this music. It does not sound well and does not make justice to the music. The underpowered underarticulated string playing and the overpresent pseudo-cool cute fortepiano playing - the whole thing puts me entirely out. Also, the excessive embellishment (difiguring even section A of numbers) adopted by singers ruined some numbers, such as the Duettino between Servilia and Anno. That said, when he is not desperately trying to be original (as in the overslow-overfast overture), his Tito benefits from a kind of energetic theatrical beat that produces some impressive moments, such as the finale to act I. Alexandrina Pendatschanska's soprano is not entirely ease on the ear, but it is an admirably forceful flexible instrument (and Jacobs fast tempi made it particularly difficult for her), irregular as it is (as the role of Vitellia). Strong chest register. She has a vivid dramatic temper too. Although Bernarda Fink was a bit laboured in the stretta of Parto, she proved wonderfully expressive throughout in a role a bit difficult for her. MarkPadmore was predictably overstretched as Tito, but managed to offer some stylish soft-grained singing, but his blurred coloratura leaves more than something to be desired. As Annio, Marie-Claude Chappuis offered a lovely firm-toned clear mezzo and Sunhae Im's bell-like soprano was also entirely lovely. Her S'altro che lagrime, crowned by admirably full top notes, is one of the best I have ever heard (and I have high standards for this role, namely Lucia Popp in her two recordings as Servilia). Lorenzo Coppola's splendid basset horn playing also deserves mention.

• Carmen from Vienna

The legendary Carmen Herbert von Karajan conducted in Vienna in 1954 has finally been released from the original masters (Rot-weiss-rot archives). Those were days when Karajan wanted to prove what the Wiener Staatsoper was loosing by not inviting him. So he arranged this concert performance with the Wiener Symphoniker with a mix of his La Scala soloists and some Viennese favourites. The result is amazing. This is one of the most electrifying renditions of this score - the technical finish in the orchestra allied to a powerful theatricality are simply unforgettable. Unfortunately, some scenic effects have not been arranged, such as Don José's Qui va là, dragon d'Alcala? and the chorus in the closing scene sung on stage, but that's a minor drawback in a grandiose release, offered in spectacularly clear recorded sound. In the title role, Giulietta Simionato has commits mistakes in pronunciation now and then, but tha's her only (minor) fault. She is a formidable Carmen. She is not particularly sexy or teazing, but a strong woman ready to face pleasure and pain as both sides of the same coin. Her down-to-earth confrontation with death in the final act is particularly telling. On the other hand, Hilde Güden is too seductive a Micaela. Some of her sex-appeal is operetta-ish, but Bizet's lines are really congenial to her. Michael Roux is a light and light-hearted Escamillo, but it is Nicolai Gedda who steals the show as a boyish and impetuous Don José. Highly recommended.

• Rigoletto

A review of Edward Downes' Rigoletto from Covent Garden has been added to the discography.

Sunday, January 22nd 2006

 

• Vanity's unfair

Although Mira Nair's adaptation for the screen of Thackeray's classic novel is a charming movie - I guess the problem is that it is too charming. When I have read that Reese Witherspoon was going to play Becky Sharp, I wondered how she would manage to make of this character something more than a darling. The answer is - she was not supposed to. In Nair's movie, lots of modern social psychology has been applied to this story and the result is that Becky's ambition is justified by a poor childhood of humiliation and contempt for her talent. In Thackeray's novel, we are supposed to side with Becky - not because she is adorable, but because it is impossible to resist her. Thackeray's Becky is the opposite of adorable: she seens nothing but herself. She marries for money and position (and maybe because the guy is attractive), she doesn't think twice before letting her only friend down, she doesn't care for her own son and she steps over everybody and everything that comes between her and her aims. She is like those lianas in rain forest: if they don't climb to the top, they'll die out of lack of sunlight. That is why she is supposed to be irresistible - because she is a force of nature, something that the very structure of society creates and that keeps it moving. For example, in the movie, the most powerful blow in Becky's social ambition - her husband's attack on her protector - is shown as a necessary step for her to do some soul searching, get a job and then help herself and everybody to be happy in the end. If I am not mistaken, in the book, the idea was that Becky resisted to take the further step with the guy because this would mean acquiring a reputation and loosing all possibility of attending respectable society. When she is accidentally involved in scandal, she moves to Germany to be something like a demi-mondaine, not a hard-working girl wishing for a light in the end of the tunnel. The whole idea of Becky is that there is no blow of which she cannot recover from and that's shown in the end of the book (not in the end of the film, when she goes to a sort of Nirvana and is purified by the blessing experience of getting in touch with different cultures).

As a final note, why couldn't the producers get a really good singer to dub Witherspoon? I can't see why that breathy puff of singing is supposed to be irresistible. Why coudn't they hire Rosemary Joshua?

• More Troyanos

Just finished acts I and III (and again act II) from the Geneva Samson et Dalila with Tatiana Troyanos. I sustain my opinion - sexy, classy and intense. It has rekindled my passion for Troyanos, a singer I just adore. It also made me check on amazon.com, the samples of the Leinsdorf Così, a recording I used to see in the dusty shelves of CD stores as a kind of no.1 prize for Mozartian bizarrerie. I have to confess my surprise - judging from the first minute of each track, it is certainly old-fashioned, but deligtfully so. And there are surprises - full edition and regular usage of ornamentation. I am curious to hear more of Leontyne Price's Fiordiligi, but I guess I'll never recover from Troyanos' Dorabella. Her clarinette-like voice just makes the perfect blended for È amore un ladroncello and the duet with Guglielmo promises to be the sexiest ever. Milnes seems to be better than I had imagined and I still have to hear more of George Shirley's dark-toned Ferrando. It is high on my "wish list", but unfortunately also on the "hard-to-find" list. So - if someone is ready to sell, lend, make a copy etc, I'm ready to do business!

If you want to do some reading on Troyanos, check this loving portrait. It has caught my attention the fact that the author mentions a broadcast of her Kundry next to Jon Vickers' Parsifal.

Monday, January 16th 2005

• More from Parterre

This time it was R. Strauss' Vier letzte Lieder, with Margaret Price, Claudio Abbado and what I suppose to be the Chicago SO. I had already listened to a recording of these songs with Price, also with Abbado, from Edinburgh, but I thought this one is far superior - she is more inspired and more stylish, I don't know. In the same file, there are also songs from Mahler's Knaben Wunderhorn, smoothly and imaginatively sung, plus an exciting Leise, leise from the Freischütz with Sawallisch (I guess it is from that broadcast with Helen Donath I have been looking for for ages...).

I could also listen to Saint-Saëns's Samson et Dalila, act II, from Geneva, with Tatiana Troyanos, Guy Chauvet and Giuseppe Patanè. Although the role is a bit on the low side for her, she is sexy sexy all the way. A friend of mine once said he thinks most Delilah sound too cavernous for his taste - maybe he should listen to this one. Chauvet is a good tenor and has very clear diction.

Sunday, January 15th 2005

• Übermachte im Spiel

Browsing through the internet, I ran into this most pleasant of surprises. On Parterre Box website, there is a page called Unnatural Acts, where one can find some complete broadcasts for download. Although there seems to be lots of interesting things, my eye immediately caught this Frau ohne Schatten from Paris, 1980. I have always thought that Karajan's performance in Vienna with Rysanek, Ludwig, Hoffman, Thomas and Berry (plus Popp and Wunderlich) was the most exciting night at the opera ever, I have to confess this one is a serious contender. Lucia Popp used to say a singer is in good voice around six times a year. It seems that the whole cast was in one of these days that night in Paris. Those who know Hildegard Behrens' Färberin from Solti's studio recording should listen to her Empress - she is at her most radiant, singing her high phrases in rounded yet powerful voice. One of her best recorded performances ever. Even in the moments when she is not entirely comfortable (the tricky florid phrasing at her first scene, for example), she sounds free and enchanting. Similarly in wonderful shape, Gwyneth Jones is simply the best Färberin I have ever heard. Although she doesn't display Christa Ludwig's sex-appeal and apt histeria, nobody has ever sung the part with such cleanliness of phrasing, especially the high-lying end of act II. More so, act III duet shows her supremacy in the role - has any other Färberin floated her marital love duet in such caressing mezza voce? And there is the rarely recorded Mignon Dunn, offering a true dramatic mezzo (as required in the score), a flashing temper and lots of imagination. Also, René Kollo was in unusually ringing firm voice. The tenor heard here has nothing to do with the one in Sawallisch's studio recording. Although he was a veteran by then, Walter Berry responds to his amazing counterparts with the same level of accomplishment. He is in excellent voice and sounds far more concerned than in Böhm's DG recording. Unfortunately, the recorded sound is too favourable for singers' voices, but one can still feel how electrifying and theatrical Dohnányi's conducting was that night. The orchestral interludes are wonderfully atmospheric and I am sure that, if the original source should be released, we would be able to listen to the orchestral tutti with more transparence and detail.

Saturday, January 14th 2005

• I'll miss Nilsson

When the James Levine Anniversary Gala was released on DVD, I was so thrilled to see Birgit Nilsson show up, speak something at the microphone then getting away from it and pulling out a ho-jo-to-ho! For Nilsson has always been a force of nature to me - in that minute I had the impression that there really are among us some who are indestructible.

Wednesday, January 10th 2005

• London's Mitridate

Today I could listen to the second and third acts of Mozart's Mitridate broadcast from London (July 2005). In the prima donna role, Aleksandra Kurzak - until then unknown to me - pulled out an impressive performance. Her warm beautiful soprano was entirely at ease in the difficult fioriture and produced some amazing pearly staccato notes. She is also a stylist singer who can phrase sensitively, as in Pallide Ombre, when she also displayed a healthy low register. One could complaint of a certain metallic quality in top notes, but that didn't bother me and is probably irrelevant live. In the second soprano role, Susan Gritton offered a capable performance, but I can remember of more beguiling Ismenes. Taking the role of Sifare, Andrea Rost displayed an edgy rather tense sound, but coped with her divisions without effort and could manage to produce a touching performance. In the end, one could take her for a light mezzo taking a high soprano role. I only wonder how she does to manage Pamina these days. The other breeches role was taken by David Daniels. Although his low register live is not penetrating enough for this kind of role, he displayed a healthy pleasant voice and dramatic commitment. As for Bruce Ford, the voice is less ingratiating than in his video from the same venue, but still firm and strong in this most difficult of roles. I found Richard Hickox's conducting exemplary - exciting in the lively moments and expressive in the lyric passages - the strings sounded particularly velvety but still clear in articulation. A beautiful performance.

Monday, January 2nd 2005

• More Shakespeare Retold

I have just seen the Midsummer Night's Dream episode of the series and, much to my surprise, enjoyed it. I have to confess that somehow I still think that this play is not exactly the right stuff for updating. In order for all that to make sense in today's point of view, I believe that the whole "magic" thing should be re-built into something else. Maybe that wouldn't make any sense in Britain, but in Brazil everybody would have gone to Visconde de Mauá, a village in the mountain which serves as a refuge to old hippies or people who would like to pretend they're still in the 60's, being treated to mushroom tea etc - but that would be silly anyway. In any case, even if I believe that the whole fairy magic stuff being preserved exactly as it was only proves that the play is not entirely fit to updating, I have enjoyed it - especially because the actors are so good. Many faces are familiar from small parts in big movies such as William Ash in Nicholas Nickleby or Lennie James in Snatch, but this is an opportunity to sample their talents in proper circumstances. Many people hate Michael Hoffmann's movie with Michelle Pfeiffer, but I like it. It is intoxicatingly beautiful and the comedy parts, performed by Kevin Kline, Sam Rockwell et al, are done in such a funny and touching way that makes it irresistible. In the BBC series, this part of the play is probably the one more poorly handled - and that unbalances the whole thing, but I have ultimately enjoyed it and don't want to extend my criticism.

•Capriccio

A review of the DVD of Richard Strauss's Capriccio from the Opéra National de Paris has been added to the discography.

Sunday, January 1st 2006

 

 

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