R E V I E W S:

Die Fledermaus:
When a director and a production team have a concept for an opera production that alters the composer-librettist’s original vision, the results can vary from imaginative to hubristic expressions of a director trying to be unique—or just unusual. The concepts that work best are the ones that retain the integrity of the opera. Such is the case with this DVD of Die Fledermaus derived from performances at Glyndebourne. The action has been moved into the early 20th century, art deco simplicity has replaced 19th-century fussiness. The score remains intact, but the dialogue is new—yet it remains quite faithful to the story line. It was adapted by Stephen Lawless and Daniel Dooner, written in English, and then translated into German by Johanna Mayr. Purists are not likely to be offended by Glyndebourne’s updated Die Fledermaus, and most viewers will probably greatly enjoy this production.

The cast is a talented ensemble that excels not only as musicians but actors as well. Thomas Allen and Pamela Armstrong are wonderful as the Eisensteins. Their comic timing creates characterizations that are in equal measure sophisticated and droll. The act-II seduction with the watch is terrific. Lyubov Petrova makes the most out of Adele, the chambermaid with a mind of her own. Håkan Hagegård is an especially genial Dr. Falke, with intriguing glimpses of the anger prompting the Revenge of the Bat. Pär Lindskog makes a suitably lecherous Afredo. Special kudos to Malena Ernman in the trouser role of Prince Orlofsky. She does a convincing male impersonation complete with bushy mustache.

Udo Samel has the non-singing role of Frosch, the jailer. Frequently the role is assigned to the comedian of the day who pads the third act with a monologue of trademark shtick or topical humor. Mr. Samel introduces himself as Frosch — James Frosch. He admits his banter is intended to cover a scene change; however, this interplay with the audience has been edited from the operetta and appears as part of the Extras.

The biggest liability of Die Fledermaus is the third act. The first act lays the groundwork for the disguises and intrigues in act II. The third act serves as the dénouement, the unmasking after the splashy second-act party...Happily, this Glyndebourne production keeps affairs moving along nicely. The cast maintains the energy level from the first two acts. Quite a feat, since it appears the entire performance was done without intermissions.

Scene designer Benoit Dugardyn has created a clever set on a revolving stage...in this case the set is interesting and adapts quite well to the scenic demands of each act. A rather nifty scene change transforms the Eisenstein home into the Orlofsky ballroom. During the second act, the set frequently revolves, adding interesting dimensions and scenic interest.

Acts I and II and the Entr’acte to act III are on the first disc, act III is on the second disc, along with a number of interesting extra features and interviews. A compliment is due to television director Francesca Kemp and television producer Ross MacGibbon for the excellent transference of a stage production to home video. This video is respectful of the stage production without gimmicky distractions. There is very much a sense of being in the theater while watching....the new Glyndebourne production makes any evening New Years Eve.

David L. Kirk, FANFARE

La cenerentola
This is a conventional production of La cenerentola in most respects. The stage sets are sparsely suggestive rather than literal and detailed, but sufficient. Costumes are excellent, and Peter Hall gets superior comic acting from his principals. Timing and definition of gesture are especially good, with Di Pasquale and Alberghini making the most of their respective parts, minus any distracting add-on gags that all too often disrupt both the work’s rhythm and audience’s attention.


I have one reservation concerning Hall’s production, however: his treatment of the concertato . This Italian operatic convention completely stops the action and allows all characters on stage to express their thoughts simultaneously; which in Rossini’s comic operas invariably means stupefaction and derision. Hall exchanges conventional lighting at these instances for blue scrims, and sets his performers moving and weaving about in odd, slow motion patterns. In theory, this is interesting; in practice, I admittedly found it hard not to laugh at something Hall intended to be taken earnestly. I could only recall Eugene O’Neill’s pretentious 1929 play, Strange Interlude , with its characters given to occasional zombie-like speeches out of time, revealing their thoughts; or to Groucho Marx’s satire on it in the 1930 movie, Animal Crackers : “I see figures . . . strange figures . . . weird figures . . . Steel 186, Anaconda 74, American Can 138 . . .”. Hall’s desire to gussy up each concertato (and there are several, if you count smaller sections of otherwise standard ensembles, as Hall does) with a psychological dimension definitely raised a specter, but I don’t think Rossini had bushy eyebrows, a moustache, and a cigar. It’s possible to work up an academic thesis about the depth and seriousness of anything meant humorously, and the liner notes accompanying this release strive earnestly to accomplish this. But sometimes the light is just that—all light, no shadows; and this composer wasn’t a post-modernist.


Like most other Rossini operas, for many years La cenerentola went unperformed because of changing public tastes that in turn led to an absence of singers who could handle the parts. This was a vicious circle—for a lack of appropriate voices meant a lack of productions, and the absence of productions meant no need to train the voices. What are Rossini voices? They require the same qualities that can be found in other bel canto music: great agility, firm breath support, good enunciation, proper score-reading habits, and schooling in style. All of these qualities can be found in varying degrees in the seven performers who take a major stage part in this La cenerentola . Please note this; because if you ever doubted we’re entering a renewed age of bel canto , then a Rossini production that can boast of three basses, a tenor, two sopranos, and a mezzo, all reasonably fluent in coloratura, is surely as good an indication as any. However, I will single out only Ruxandra Donose for praise. Hers is a dusky mezzo, even in coloration, volume, and support across the registers. The voice is able to handle exacting coloratura without any aspiration or evidence of strain. Her forthright, focused attack in her final aria (“Non più mesta”) brought memories of Marilyn Horne in the 1970s; and like Horne, Donose builds her part from the text, not by working around it. A young singer with little as yet on CD or DVD, she clearly bears watching.


Jurowski is incisive, and alert to his singers’ needs. Sound is available in LPCM stereo and surround sound, while the video is offered in 16:9 anamorphic. Finally, there are subtitles in English, French, German, Spanish, and Italian, as well as one of those bits-and-pieces interviews (entitled “Insights,” just in case you missed what it offered) that tries to sell a darker view of the opera. It doesn’t work, but it also doesn’t matter. This production of La cenerentola was a good one for Rossini, and the audience agreed. I think you will, too.


FANFARE: Barry Brenesal


Cosi Fan Tutte
Simply put, this widely praised Glyndebourne production is the Così we’ve been waiting for. Yes, there are plenty of alternatives. But little of the video competition has fared well on these pages. Sometimes the problems stem from the musical performance: the Pritchard-led Glyndebourne predecessor was dismissed as “largely routine” by David Kirk (29:5); the Östman was ruled out of court by Barry Brenesal, who said that the “conducting belonged to the then-new movement that found only three tempos in Mozart operas: fast, faster, fast forward” (30:4). Others were panned because of inadequate production values: Chereau’s “takes itself far too seriously,” according to Brian Robins (30:3); Bob Rose was less charitable still with Hermanns’ “simply rotten” production that, he said, “reveals the producers’ lack of understanding Mozart’s genius” (30:6). Only Muti’s Vienna production (Brenesal 32:3) and Harnoncourt’s from Zurich (Christopher Williams, 30:1) received passing grades.


So what makes this performance stand out? First, the singing of the young cast is uniformly excellent. Or perhaps not quite uniformly: as is the case with her new Susanna in Pappano’s Figaro , Miah Persson is even better than excellent, combining a gorgeous, flexible, and stunningly controlled voice (even in the most challenging coloratura passages) with her by-now familiar depth of dramatic insight. Just listen to (and watch) the solid scorn on “Come scoglio”—or, even better, the subtle variations in mood in her wrenching account of “Per pietà”—and you’ll understand why she’s my favorite Mozart soprano these days.


But the rest of the cast is nearly as good. Anke Vondung holds her own as Dorabella (certainly, a less rich part), and their voices blend extremely well. Topi Lehtipuu and Luca Pisaroni capture the emotional wobbles of the two self-deluded lovers—their ardor, their ungrounded confidence, their fury—with unerring security and luxurious tone. More than most performances, too, this one reveals a key social dynamic: the deception works in part because they’re so much sexier when their costumes allow them to abandon the constraining propriety imposed by the social conventions that normally govern their behavior. Ainhoa Garmendia is a pert, disdainful Despina who doesn’t over-camp the impersonations; and running the show tactfully is Nicholas Rivenq. An unusually attractive Don Alfonso, he’s younger and far more fit than most in this role (he looks as if he just came off the racquet-ball court), and he seems an intellectual without a trace of pedantry; you can really believe that he wants to educate these two naive friends. Iván Fischer conducts with more romantic flexibility than you often get with period-instrument orchestras—and balance (both among the singers and between stage and pit) is finely calibrated. Purely as an audio version, this would stand up to any I’ve heard.


Fortunately, Nicholas Hytner’s production is equally impressive—hardly a false step from beginning to end. In general, this staging takes the opera—arguably, Mozart’s most intellectually challenging—seriously. But the seriousness does not bring solemnity. Hytner may avoid extreme farce, but there’s plenty of wit, energy, and color throughout. More important, he doesn’t condescend to the characters: you can understand both why they’re so foolish and why they’re so torn, and the final shots (where the resolution is clearly only partial) create tremendous poignance. The sets and costumes—simple but far from austere—suggest the late 18th or early 19th century, without creating a very specific moment; and while the production doesn’t ostentatiously update the action, it stresses those aspects of character and situation that still ring true today. One point highlighted here is the bond between the sisters—indeed, one could argue that it’s really Dorabella who seduces Fiordiligi; and while there is nothing louche or tasteless in the presentation of their relationship, it’s obvious that they have a strong erotic link. Not that there’s any lack of heterosexual electricity—as a result, the final scene, where nearly every possible pairing seems highly charged, is as smoldering as any you’ll see. Yet aside from one or two moments, the sex is handled with tact: the performance is hardly prudish, but it’s never aggressive either.


The Blu-ray video quality is stunning: you can see each leaf on the salads that our heroines are eating in act I. The 5.0 channel PCM is excellent as well. And while the extras are nothing special, both the conductor and the director offer intelligent insights into the opera. Two numbers are omitted, No. 7 (the duet “Al fato dan legge”) and No. 24 (Ferrando’s “Ah, io veggio”), but that’s a minor issue. All in all, if this doesn’t make it to my next Want List, we’ve got quite a year in store for us.


FANFARE: Peter J. Rabinowitz

Aaron Copland's suite from the ballet Appalachian Spring won him a Pulitzer Prize and global recognition. The famous Quaker song 'Simple Gifts' and the American ambience of this suite contrast with the more modernist Symphonic Ode, which conveys rugged grandeur through an uncompromising structural unity. Neglected since the late 1960s, Paul Creston's music was once amongst the most frequently performed of any American composer. His poetic Symphony No. 3 is an orchestral Life of Christ, movingly expressed through themes inspired by Gregorian chant.

STRAVINSKY Violin Concerto. 1 Zvezdolikiy. 2 Symphonies of Wind Instruments. 3 Le sacre du printemps (1911-1913; 1947/1967) 4 • Robert Craft, cond; Jennifer Frautschi (vn); 1 Gregg Smith Singers; 2 O of St. Luke’s; 2 20th Century Classics Ens; 3 Philharmonia O • NAXOS 8.557508 (67:42)


The first thing that strikes one about this disc is the marvelous sound of the orchestra; Craft achieves a balance of chamber and orchestral character that fits the Violin Concerto perfectly. Of course the musicians and engineering team deserve credit, too, but it is Craft’s vision, understanding, and ability to get exactly what he wants that make the difference. The composer’s 1960 stereo recording with Isaac Stern is rhythmically square (and Stern’s energetic playing is sabotaged by ugly recorded sound), whereas Craft swings nicely. Stravinsky’s 1930s performance with Samuel Dushkin is closer to this one. If I seem to be favoring Craft over Stravinsky as an interpreter and conductor of the latter’s music, so be it. Now in his eighties, Craft is surpassing most of his former efforts, and many of these Naxos recordings stand as the finest of all. I am reminded of the truism that Schoenberg’s works suffered from being so badly played for half a century: well, so did many of Stravinsky’s, beginning with the works immediately following the big three ballets. Craft’s recent Les noces , for example, is superior to any earlier recording.


Getting back to the Violin Concerto, Frautschi is a superb young violinist who has specialized in 20th- and 21st-century music. She plays the bright yet silky “ex-Cadiz” Stradivarius, which stands out from the ensemble or fits right in, as required. Whether Frautschi or Craft is driving this performance doesn’t matter; the results are wonderful: savory, clean, punchy, and yet light. I am thoroughly beguiled by Itzhak Perlman’s beautiful playing of this Concerto on DG, and by the Boston Symphony’s eloquent accompaniment, but this performance does the piece more justice.


Zvezdolikiy is better known by its French title, Le roi des étoiles (“King of the Stars”), but Craft translates it as “The Star-Faced One.” I think I’ve encountered this recording before, but I can’t place it—this series petered out on two other labels (MusicMasters, Koch International) before Naxos came to its rescue. No matter: this is a fine reading by excellent forces, very well recorded. The booklet offers an English text. Craft plays the original score of Symphonies of Wind Instruments (the composer led the simplified 1947 version in Sony’s “The Recorded Legacy”) and makes it sound surprisingly mellow, at one point almost jolly.


Stravinsky was always touching up his music, every time he performed anything. My Boosey & Hawkes score of Le sacre says “Revised 1947, Re-engraved edition 1967,” which I think means only that this 1990s publication duplicates a 1967 one. Of course a Stravinsky- or Craft-led performance needn’t be limited by a published score. Oh well, thought I, Craft’s always brilliant, always fascinating program notes will explain all. But Craft writes only a “chronicle” of the composition and early performances, never getting past April 6, 1914. Whatever “1911–1913; 1947/1967” means, this performance sounds as if most of the awkward moments have been cleaned up, but the baby has been thrown out with the bath water. The orchestral playing is less vibrant than that of the London Symphony in Craft’s 1995 Koch recording, which later appeared on Naxos ( Fanfare 29:3). A too-warm recording doesn’t help; timpani and bass drums are a bit distant and muffled, which will never do in this music. In the final Sacrificial Dance, the playing becomes a bit sloppy. I note that this performance lasts 33:41, the earlier one 31:58; the difference is certainly noticeable. Both performances were recorded at Abbey Road Studio 1, this one in 2006. Perhaps the revised score explains why modern performances seldom thrill the way early ones did (and still do), in particular Salonen’s recent Los Angeles Philharmonic SACD spectacular being less satisfying than Stravinsky’s cramped, monaural 1940 recording with the New York Philharmonic.


At Naxos prices, you can afford to buy this CD just for the Concerto.


FANFARE: James H. North

REVIEW:

If your contact with Passion music is Bach’s St. John or St. Matthew, you’re in for a shock. This score contains no dynamic markings except in the first and last minutes. The story is told with no dramatic outbursts, no overt drama, no complex rhythms, and the effect is hypnotic and ritualistic rather than theatrical. The role of the Evangelist is taken by a quartet of voices—soprano, alto, tenor, bass—and they are accompanied by, in different groupings, one each of violin, cello, oboe, and bassoon, playing on short note values. Jesus, a bass, is accompanied by organ, and all of his utterances are slow and deliberate. Pilate is a tenor. Given the strictures of tempo and dynamics, you might suspect a lack of involvement, but this is not the case.

If you don’t know the phenomenon that is Arvo Pärt, this inexpensive, stunning release of what may remain his masterwork will open your ears and heart. Bass Robert Macdonald sings Jesus’ lines with utmost dignity and rich, dark tone; tenor Mark Anderson as Pilate begins sounding puzzled and moves into clean-hands irony as the situation becomes clear. The four voices of the Evangelist are ideally matched and they sing as one; the instrumental soloists are similarly superb. There are problems, though. Tempos tend to be rushed at times, and at others, Pärt's silences can last too long. But I’m nit-picking as one who has known the work only from the Hilliard performance for 15 years; I dare say a newcomer will be bowled over by the work's exquisite austerity in this performance by Tonus Peregrinus. The sonics are superb—spacious, clear, with pure silences and no artificial, “churchy” ambience.

-- Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com [8/2011]

Larry Schneider teamed up with his soul mate group of Andy LaVerne (piano), Mike Richmond (bass) and Adam Nussbaum (drums) calls this album “…one of my most satisfying recording experiences…. Four friends who know how to play together and create freedom from structure…” On his previous release Jazz (SCCD 31505) Bill Bennett of JazzTimes wrote, “ The momentum that saxophonist Larry Schneider generates here is just awesome. ….Schneider and the stellar rhythm section-so typical of SteepleChase are completely at ease in sharing roles and responsibilities…”