Covent Garden’s 2003 production of The Magic Flute is magnificent from a musical standpoint and more than that, it’s vastly entertaining. Visually, the production is a feast, the video quality here is extraordinary... Simon Keenlyside, Dorothea Roschmann, Will Hartmann, Diana Damrou, Franz-Josef Selig

"...a mellow warmth that was deeply satisfying. Simon Keenlyside triumph as quite the most engaging Papageno I have ever encountered, while the Tamino and Pamina of Will Hartman and Dorothea Roschmann were stylish and musically satisfying. With an exceptional Queen of the Night, Diana Damrou, this is an evening no Mozart lover should miss" David Mellor, The Mail on Sunday

"Sir Colin Davis presides at his most avuncular...he lives every moment of the score and conveys all its profound humanity." - GRAMOPHONE

Region Code 0
Picture format 16:9 Anamorphic
Running time approx 160 minutes DVD 9
Sound format Dolby stereo and 5.1 surround
Menu language English
SUBTITLE LANGUAGES: English/French/Spanish

The internationally renowned Mozart interpreter Sir Colin Davis conducts the chorus and orchestra of the Royal Opera House and a glittering cast in David McVicar's 2003 production of Mozart's last opera recorded, in sumptuous surround sound, live at Covent Garden.

EXTRA FEATURES
* BBC feature looks behind the scenes at this production
* Conductor Sir Colin Davis talks about Die Zauberflote
* Illustrated synopsis of the opera
* Illustrated booklet with biographies in English, French and Spanish

An exhilarating new Carmen from Glyndebourne. Director David McVicar describes Carmen as "the first ever musical", and in his new production, with Anne Sofie von Otter in the title role, Carmen is restored to the original Opera. Comique as Bizet wrote it, stripping away subsequent re-workings which turned it into a grand opera. Philippe Jordan makes his Glyndebourne debut with the London Philharmonic Orchestra, the Glyndebourne Chorus and a cast that includes Marcus Haddock, Laurent Naouri and Lisa Milne. This double disc set also includes extensive extra features on costume, dance, characters and the gardens of Glyndebourne.

Extra features include:
* Costume design
* How to fight on stage
* Illustrated synopsis
* The cast and their characters
* Choreographing Carmen
* The Gardens of Glyndebourne
* Booklet with new short story by novelist Jeanette Winterson

PICTURE FORMAT: 16:9
SOUND: dts Surround/LPCM Stereo
SUBTITLES: English

Sung in English

Region Code: All regions
Picture format: 16/9 Anamorphic
Sound format: Dolby Digital stereo, Dolby 5.1 surround
Menu languages: English
Subtitles: French/German/Spanish
Running time: 120 minutes

"It's a wonderfully rich piece of musical theatre, of course gorgeous melodies but also the story touches on some real basic truths about human relationships" -- Director Lotfi Mansouri

BBC Opus Arte are proud to release Lotfi Mansouri's spectacular last production as General Director of The San Francisco Opera with Yvonne Kenny making her debut in the title role of the Merry Widow. To bring fresh insight into Lehár's classic operetta new dialogue was specially commissioned from Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright, Wendy Wasserstein. Also an original ballet was composed to set the scene 'Chez Maxime.' This production also features another world premiere, Njegus's song "Quite Parisian" although Lehár in fact, wrote it later.

Extra Features:
* Illustrated Synopsis
* Cast Gallery
* "Impressions" - Lotfi Mansouri, Yvonne Kenny, Bo Skovhus, Angelika Kirchschlager and Gregory Turay discuss The Merry Widow.
* Illustrated booklet with an essay by Camille Crittenden examining what insight the Merry Widow gives into women's roles in fin-de-siecle Vienna.

Reviews

‘A production that deftly captures the sparkle and eroticism of Lehar’s music. I love it. Under Erich Kunzel, the orchestra brings out all the sparkle and eroticism of Lehár's bewitching melodies and orchestrations. Best of all, perhaps, are Michael Yeargan's sets and Thierry Bosquet's costumes. The gently varied range of colours as the curtain rises on the Widow's lamp-lit Act 2 party is quite simply breathtaking, and Act 3, too, is a riot of colour. Enjoy!’ The Gramophone

‘Mansouri’s staging, lavishly kitted out in elegant Jugendstil sets and costumes by Michael Yeargan and Thierry Bosquet, achieves the rare feat of bringing off the work’s unique mix of boulevard farce and sophisticated eroticism.’ The Independent

‘…this is about as lavish a production of Franz Lehár’s adorable operetta as you are ever likely to see…soprano Yvonne Kenny is perfectly cast in the title role.’ Classic FM Magazine

‘Michael Yeargan’s glamorous and beautifully-wrought designs and Thierry Bosquet’s extravagant costumes. We see all too little of this kind of splendour in these cash-strapped days.’ Opera

"Franz Lehar's immortal Merry Widow is presented here in a San Francisco Opera production recorded during a performance Dec. 8, 2001 at the War Memorial Opera House. New dialogue from Pulitzer Prize-winning playright Wendy Wasserstein adds to the production as does an original ballet during the 'Chez Maxim' scene. The entire cast is superb, with soprano Yvonne Kenny singing the title role for the first time and doing so brilliantly. Angelika Kirschschlager, who already has to her credit a superb SACD of Bach arias (REVIEW), is wonderful as Valencienne. In addition to fine singing throughout, all of the singers are attractive, the many stretches of dialogue spoken with style. Everything about this production is first-rate, the beautiful sets and costumes are perfect, camera work exemplary, and the Dolby digital surround sound totally natural." - CLASSICAL CD REVIEW

Jose Cura, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, Yvonne Naef and Veronica Villarroel lead the star cast of Verdi's blazingly passionate opera, in Elijah Moshinsky's new Royal Opera House production co-produced with Teatro Real Madrid, with sets by the noted film designer Dante Ferretti and costumes by Anne Tilby.

In David McVicar’s spellbinding production of Le nozze di Figaro the break-down of the relationship between Finley’s suave, dashingly self-absorbed Count and Röschmann’s passionately dignified Countess lies at the heart of the opera. The struggle to rekindle their love contrasts tragic-comically with the sexy ease between a feisty Figaro (Erwin Schrott) and a sassy Susanna (Miah Persson) is starkly absent, and the tenacious spark that remains between Marcellina (Graciela Araya) and Bartolo (Jonathan Veira). Antonio Pappano conducts (and accompanies the recitatives) with invigorating wit and emotional depth, allowing the ensemble to capture the moments of dramatic tension to perfection and engaging fully with the rhythm of an already classic production, captured in High Definition video and surround sound.

R E V I E W S:

"Capturing one of my favourite opera productions of recent years, this new DVD of David McVicar's take on the first of the Mozart-Da Ponte operas is in some ways the ultimate Le nozze di Figaro... this performance seems to get to the heart of arguably Mozart's greatest opera more successfully than almost any other production of the composer's stage works I've seen in the last two or three years. As day turns to night and the characters leave the house to resolve their disputes in Tanya McCallin's verdant garden set, the performance takes on a warm glow; it's just so emotional, so involving, so poignant.
Shot in high definition and in surround sound, this is a luxury package and one that should be purchased and treasured by every opera lover."

-- Dominic McHugh, MusicalCriticism.com

There have been a couple of Figaros on DVD lately where the plot is distorted and the setting more or less absurd. After all this it is a relief to see that David McVicar presents a ‘normal’ version with elegant staterooms and period costumes. And it doesn’t seem in the least old-fashioned! On the contrary the sets, the costumes and the action go hand in hand with the music. The production breathes with Mozart - no artificial respiration is necessary - and we are confronted with real characters of the late 18th century. They are performed with a lightness and a cobweb-free liveliness that make them easily transformable to the present day.

McVicar has read the score closely and reacted to Mozart’s ‘under-story’ – the directions and comments that are in the orchestra, sometimes reinforcing the text, sometimes contrapuntal and even telling a different story. He, the composer, knows more than the characters themselves. In McVicar’s mind the overture is no mere prelude to the evening, where the audience have an opportunity to finish their conversations. This musical masterpiece is a little symphonic poem which, though in no way thematically related to the following play as the overtures to Così fan tutte and Die Zauberflöte are, lends itself to an amusing pantomime. And the high spirits that are evoked continue as an undercurrent all through the opera – even though there are also moments of darkness, even brutality. Count Almaviva, who is presented as a many-faceted human being, is also a hothead. In the second act he actually hits the Countess – maybe a nod in the direction of reality, where physical violence within marriage seems on the increase. Another parallel may be the teenaged Cherubino appearing markedly tipsy in the last act. Closer to the revolutionary ideas of Beaumarchais’s late 18th century is the obvious antagonism between Figaro and the Count. The third act scene with the sextet, when it is revealed that Marcellina and Bartolo are Figaro’s parents, is more straightforward comedy – but far from the slapstick farce it can sometimes be in less sensitive hands. Overall style is the buzzword for this production; inventiveness within a traditional concept. Just one tiny detail: there is no scene-shift between acts 3 and 4, just frozen positions and then over to Barbarina’s aria where she mourns the loss of the pin for which we have been prepared in the previous scene.

Musically it is also a highly attractive performance. Antonio Pappano paces the music excellently, giving the singers a certain freedom to make individual imprints and allowing them to embellish the vocal line. The effect is both stylish and elegant. It is also a musically very complete version where both Marcellina and Don Basilio are allowed their arias in the last act. Both are well sung. It is a particular pleasure to see and hear Philip Langridge in the latter role, vocally seemingly indestructible. He both looks and sings just as splendidly as he did when I last saw him on stage – and that must be close to twenty years ago!

Good singing and acting is moreover the order of the day with not a weak link among the cast. Erwin Schrott is a splendid Figaro, manly, youthful, good looking and a magnificent singer. He has bass notes that elude many a Figaro and generally makes a sensitive and believable valet. Miah Persson is a mercurial and expressive Susanna, definitely in the top flight of lyrical sopranos in the world today. Her facial expressions reveal all her feelings and she sings an exquisite last act aria. Together with her mistress, the Countess, she also performs a lovely Letter Duet in act 3. On her own Dorothea Röschmann excels in the Countess’s two arias, standing out as a truly tragic person but with a will of steel; this comes through in the intensity of her singing. Dove sono in act 3 is more powerful than most readings I have heard – but sensitive. Great singing indeed! Gerald Finley is also a splendid actor combining burnished tone with honeyed suavity when it suits him. Rinat Shaham is truly boyish in the notoriously difficult-to-cast role as Cherubino and sings with nervous passion. She is almost in the Christine Schäfer class, a singer to my mind unsurpassable in the role. Jonathan Veira, another splendid actor, makes the most of Dr Bartolo, even though he is more baritone than bass and lacks the booming bottom notes.

The presentation is exemplary with a detailed tracklist in the booklet which makes it easy to access individual numbers. The sound is splendid and the video direction excellent. There are enough overview pictures to get involved in the settings but the director works a lot with close-ups which pays dividends with so eminent a cast of singing actors. This is one of those DVD operas that requires to be seen again and more than once. Readers who don’t believe in over-fanciful reconstructions or transportations in time can rest assured that this is the real thing – and still up to date.

-- Göran Forsling, MusicWeb International

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
LE NOZZE DI FIGARO

Figaro – Erwin Schrott
Susanna – Miah Persson
Count Almaviva – Gerald Finley
Countess Almaviva – Dorothea Röschmann
Marcellina – Graciela Araya
Barbarina – Ana James
Cherubino – Rinat Shaham

The Royal Opera Chorus
The Royal Opera House Orchestra
Antonio Pappano, conductor

David McVicar, stage director

Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London, 10, 13 and 17 February 2006.

Bonus:
- The Magic of Mozart: Interviews with Antonio Pappano, David McVicar and principal cast.
- Cast gallery and illustrated synopsis.

Picture format: NTSC 16:9 Anamorphic
Sound format: DTS Surround 5.0 / LPCM Stereo
Region code: 0 (all)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Italian

Also available on Blu-ray

Giuseppe Verdi
AIDA

Aida – Hui He
Radames – Marco Berti
Amneris – Andrea Ulbrich
Amonasro – Ambrogio Maestri
The King – Roberto Tagliavini
High Priestess – Antonella Trevisan
A messenger – Antonello Ceron

Arena di Verona Ballet
Arena di Verona Chorus and Orchestra
Daniel Oren, conductor

Gianfranco De Bosio, stage director

Recorded live at Arena di Verona, June 2012

Bonus:
- Cast gallery

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese
Running time: 150 mins
No. of DVDs: 1

MEYERBEER Robert le Diable • Daniel Oren, cond; Marina Poplavskaya (Alice); Patrizia Ciofi (Isabelle); Bryan Hymel (Robert); John Relyea (Bertram); Jean-François Borras (Raimbaut); Nicolas Courjal (Alberti); Royal Opera Ch & O • OPUS ARTE 1106 (2 DVDs: 211:00) Live: Covent Garden 12/15/2012

Robert le Diable marked two important firsts for Giacomo Meyerbeer (1791–1864): it was his first opera composed to a French rather than an Italian libretto, and his first collaboration with librettist and exact contemporary Eugène Scribe (1791–1861). It was a smash success upon its premiere on November 21, 1831, defining the genre of grand opera, and by some accounts was the most performed opera of the 19th century. (The act 3 ballet, in which a group of debauched nuns rise from their graves to reindulge their carnal appetites, created a sensation, though it doubtless later provided ammunition for the influential antisemitic element in the conservative wing of the Roman Catholic Church in France for attacks upon the composer at the end of the century, contemporaneous with the Dreyfus scandal and the rise of the fascist Action Française.) However, once the fashion for grand opera waned after Meyerbeer’s death, the composer and his works sank into desuetude, from which he and they have fitfully but increasingly emerged in the last 30–40 years, as former shibboleths and prejudices against him have waned and his contributions have been re-evaluated.

The booklet that accompanies this DVD release features an uncommonly intelligent essay by Robert Letellier, which argues that, contrary to the standard portrait of Meyerbeer as someone who merely catered to the bourgeois tastes of his time and sought and achieved success through spectacular but superficial musical and dramatic effects, the composer in fact had far loftier and more substantive concerns: “Much of Meyerbeer’s work as a dramatic artist focuses on the theme of faith and what this means in terms of the great choices of life....His most famous French operas [Robert le Diable, Les Huguenots, Le Prophète, L’Africaine] constitute a tetralogy in which the issues of faith, history, society and personal choice interact with the demands of intransigent religion and politics.” In the particular case of Robert le Diable, a “theological dimension” of “a spiritual drama about sin and salvation” is intertwined with such issues as “the attainment of the balanced personality, the issues of heredity and the demands of life fully lived in the present. It is also about making social and political choices between opposing and equally absorbing options: on the one hand party affiliation, the pursuit of corporal pleasure, financial acquisitiveness and sexual license; on the other, the quest for higher, spiritual and more altruistic ideals.” Moreover, Meyerbeer’s contemporaries understood the seriousness of his objectives as well, with for example the noted and highly influential author and critic Théophile Gautier (1811–1872) writing a penetrating critique of Le Prophète in 1858–59 which discussed that opera and its two predecessors as forming “an immense symbolic trilogy, filled with profound and mysterious meaning: the three principal phases of the human soul are represented there: faith, examination, and illumination.”

Since Christopher Williams provided a superb plot summary in his review in 27:1 of a 2003 CD set of the opera on Dynamic conducted by Renato Palumbo, I will omit that here and refer readers to his synopsis instead. The staging of this production is what I would term “postmodernist pastiche,” freely mixing updated elements of the setting of the plot (11th-century Italy) with those of its composition (19th-century France) and the present day. Act 1 is set in a French café that features the stereotypical red-and-white checkered tablecloths of many such establishments, but on the café roof are life-size plastic horses in neon day-glo colors (blue, green, red, orange, and yellow). The knights wear medieval suits of plate armor, but Robert wears a sport coat with portions cut away to expose the armor (apparently to signify his divided moral character, with deep longings for both good and evil), while the diabolical Bertram is clad in a dark full-body suit, plus a 19th-century full-length overcoat and enormous stovepipe hat. In act 2, the castle is a set of miniature cut-out frames of stone walls, turrets, etc., about five to six feet tall, set against a black and blue diamond checkerboard background, almost creating the effect of the characters moving through a child’s play set. Isabelle wears a kitschy headpiece consisting of a halo of little stars sticking out on wires, while Robert is now garbed in a full sport coat and open-necked dress shirt. Both Alice and Isabelle are arrayed in very simple dresses, the former in red and the latter in white. The plastic horses are now on ground level; the armor-clad knights float in, suspended in mid-air on wires, and are then lowered onto their faux steeds. In act 3, scene 1, the setting of mountainous clefts and caves is created with painted backdrops of thin black-and-white and red-and-white stripes. The ballet that follows in scene 2 has a red lattice framework backdrop and rectangular cage-like tombs from which the nuns emerge to cavort amidst gravestones. Act 4 utilizes the same set as act 2, with the addition of a throne in the foreground and the bathing of the proceedings in lime-green light. Act 5 uses an abstract stencil frame to suggest a church building, on either side of which Alice and Bertram respectively stand before cartoonish backdrops of a heavenly cloud bank and a giant dragon’s head. Somehow, this kitschy, tongue-in-cheek farrago of unmatched elements works better than the description of it sounds (it reportedly was roundly criticized in the British press); it strikes me as a little silly and at times perhaps slightly amusing, but it doesn’t disturb me or create any occasion for offense, unlike so much of current Regietheater.

The music itself strikes me as being of highly uneven character; in particular that of the first two acts seems quite ephemeral before Meyerbeer hits his dramatic stride with the opening of act 3. Even then, the best parts of the score are nowhere near a match for that of Les Huguenots, which followed a mere five years later; Meyerbeer greatly advanced in his craft during that short interval. However, this performance is musically excellent and presents the score to its best advantage. A CD recording of a live performance from Salerno, with a partially overlapping cast (Ciofi, Hymel, and Oren) was just issued by Brilliant Classics and reviewed by Lynn René Bayley in 37:1. Ciofi and Hymel are as excellent here as there: Ciofi, who has made a specialty of the role of Isabelle over the years, has in her top notes a bit of acidity and oscillation in the vibrato, but she is a committed and affecting interpreter. After taking a very brief time to warm up, Marina Poplavskaya is a superbly touching Alice, demonstrating why she is justly in demand for lyric soprano roles in opera houses all over the world. As Robert, Bryan Hymel lives up to his recent spectacular press coverage as the tenor Bryn Terfel (whom he resembles physically to no small degree); he is the real deal, with a ringing, securely produced voice possessing both heft and sheen, and is able to bang out the stratospheric high notes (even if a couple of roulades around high C and D sound a bit strained). For his part, John Relyea boldly steps into the shoes of Samuel Ramey in the role of Bertram and fills them most ably, with his firm, sonorous, sepulchral bass filling the theater and limning out the diabolical dimension of his satanic character. The supporting cast is generally fine, with the excellent Raimbaut of Jean-François Borras deserving special mention. In comparing this to the Brilliant Classics version, there is no question that this is the superior performance, with Poplavskaya, Relyea, and Borres all being notably superior to their counterparts on CD and Hymel in even better voice here. Conductor Daniel Oren has in the past struck me as being merely competent, but here he seems to have found some special inspiration and provides fine leadership from the podium that is both energetic and lyrical, while the chorus and orchestra of Covent Garden are up to their usual high standards. The recorded sound and film quality are both excellent as well. A cast gallery and a brief documentary, “The Legacy of Robert le Diable,” are provided as extras.

Like all of its predecessors on LP and CD (see the list in Bayley’s review), this version is not unabridged, though the cuts are relatively minor and far fewer than in most other versions. Likewise, by every other measure, this performance far outstrips all of those previous versions for superior singing, instrumental playing, and sound quality. It’s been far too long a wait, but at last all four of Meyerbeer’s grand operas finally have recorded performances in one medium or another (CD or DVD) that do them justice; highly recommended.

FANFARE: James A. Altena

In the prologue to Wagner's giant masterpiece, Der Ring de Nibelungen, the beginnings of an epic journey unfold when Alberich seizes the ring of gold, it's awesome power unleashing an unstoppable story of deceit, destruction, death and transfiguring love.

Kasper Holten's inaugural production as Director of Opera for The Royal Opera returns to Pushkin's verse novella to reveal the shadows of memory which haunt Tchaikovsky's lyric tragedy. Using doubles to suggest the paths taken, or not taken, by its two impulsive protagonists, Holten gives eloquent voice to the loss and regret that lies at the heart of Eugene Onegin. Simon Keenlyside and Krassimira Stoyanova bring both experience and dynamic energy to the pair of protagonists, while the youthful, 'heartrending' tenor of Pavol Breslik and the idiomatic sweep of Robin Ticciati's 'inspired' conducting (The Independent) were enthusiastically received at the premiere of this visually opulent staging.

Pyotr Il’yich Tchaikovsky
EUGENE ONEGIN

Tatyana – Krassimira Stoyanova
Eugene Onegin – Simon Keenlyside
Olga – Elena Maximova
Lensky – Pavol Breslik
Prince Gremin – Peter Rose
Madame Larina – Diana Montague

Royal Opera House Chorus and Orchestra
Robin Ticciati, conductor

Kasper Holten, stage director

Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, Feburary 2013

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Italian, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 154 mins
No. of DVDs: 1

MOZART IN TURKEY
featuring Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail

Featuring; Paul Groves, Yelda Kodalli, Desiree Rancatore, Lynton Atkinson, Peter Rose and Oliver Tobias
The Scottish Chamber orchestra Conducted by Sir Charles Mackerras

A 90 MINUTE FILM BY ELIJAH MOSHINSKY AND MICK CSAKY, OF AND ABOUT MOZART'S OPERA

Region Code All regions Running time approx 90 minutes DVD 9
Sound format Dolby Stereo, Dolby 5.1 Surround
Menu language English
Subtitle languages French/German/Spanish/English/Dutch
Cat. No. OA 0892 D (NTSC)

More than just a performance film featuring Mozart's opera, Mozart in Turkey also studies the history of opera's fascination with Turkish culture and some illuminating biographical information about Mozart's life during the composition of 'The Abduction', his most popular opera during his lifetime.

Acclaimed opera director Elijah Moshinsky is filmed at work with an international cast during the staging and filming of a magnificent production of Mozart's opera Die Entfuhrung aus dem Serail (The Abduction from the Harem), set within the harem of the Topkapi Palace. This remarkable film, conceived, produced and directed by Mick Csaky, combines both performance and process. It simultaneously presents a highly dramatic performance of the opera within the spectacular setting of the Topkapi Palace at the same time as documenting the entire creative process of recording of the soundtrack, rehearsing the singers and filming the production.

The film also provides fresh insights into the history of the opera and the personal life of Mozart while composing this opera - Mozart's most popular during his lifetime. Key to the success of the film is a central interview with the opera director Elijah Moshinsky explaining his very personal approach to this opera.

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

Leading director Richard Jones staged his witty, darkly comic realization of Gianni Schicchi for The Royal Opera in 2007. The production was revived in 2012 and here he completes the trio with two new productions of Il Tabarro and Suor Angelica. Antonio Pappano conducts an acclaimed cast including Eva-Maria Westbroek, Ermonela Jaho, Lucio Gallo, Elena Zilio and rising star Francesco Demuro. These three one-act works were broadcast on BBC Radio 3 and went to cinemas world-wide in February 2012.

Giacomo Puccini IL TRITTICO
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Il Tabarro
Michele – Lucio Gallo
Giorgetta – Eva-Maria Westbroek
Luigi – Aleksandrs Antonenko
Suor Angelica
Suor Angelica – Ermonela Jaho
La zia principessa – Anna Larsson
La badessa – Irina Mishura

Gianni Schicchi
Gianni Schicchi – Lucio Gallo
Lauretta – Ekaterina Siurina
Rinuccio – Francesco Demuro

Royal Opera House Chorus and Orchestra
Antonio Pappano, conductor

Richard Jones, stage director

Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, September 2011

Bonus
- Introductions by Antonio Pappano
- Behind the Scenes

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: Italian, English, German, French, Spanish
Running time: 180 mins (operas) + 20 mins (bonus)
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

Benjamin Britten
DEATH IN VENICE

Gustav von Aschenbach - John Graham Hall
Traveller / Elderly Fop / Gondolier / Barber / Hotel Manger / Player / Dionysus - Andrew Shore
Apollo - Tim Mead
Tadzio - Sam Zaldivar
The Polish Mother - Laura Caldow
Two Daughters - Mia Angelina Mather / Xhuliana Shehu
The Governess - Joyce Henderson
Jaschiu - Marcio Teixeira

English National Opera Chorus and Orchestra
Edward Gardner, conductor
Deborah Warner, stage director

Recorded live at the London Coliseum, June 2013

Picture format:1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Korean
Running time: 153 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

This Blu-ray Disc is only playable on Blu-ray Disc players and not compatible with standard DVD players.

Also available on standard DVD

English-speaking audiences have always found Die Meistersinger to be a life-enhancing celebration of wisdom, art and song. So it proves in David McVicar's production – the first at Glyndebourne – which is updated to the early-19th century of Wagner's childhood. At the centre of a true ensemble cast is Gerald Finley, a 'gleamingly sung', 'eminently believable' Sachs (The Independent on Sunday), supported by the dynamic conducting of Vladimir Jurowski which, like McVicar's production, uses Glyndebourne's special intimacy to bring sharp focus to bear on the subtlety of Wagner's musical and dramatic counterpoint.

McVicar has put on a great show with style, intelligence and insight. -- The Telegraph

Musically, it was judged faultlessly for the scale of the theatre by Vladimir Jurowski, who conjured playing of mercurial clarity not the first words one would normally choose for this gargantuan score from the London Philharmonic Orchestra, sustained with unfailing vigilance and concentration. -- The Guardian

Richard Wagner
DIE MEISTERSINGER VON NÜRNBERG
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Walther von Stolzing – Marco Jentzsch
Eva – Anna Gabler
Magdalene – Michaela Selinger
David – Topi Lehtipuu
Veit Pogner – Alastair Miles
Sixtus Beckmesser – Johannes Martin Kränzle
Hans Sachs – Gerald Finley
Kunz Vogelgesang – Colin Judson

The Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Vladimir Jurowski, conductor

David McVicar, stage director

Recorded live at Glyndebourne, Lewes, July 2011

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German
Running time: 300 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

R E V I E W:

WAGNER Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg • Vladimir Jurowski, cond; Anna Gabler ( Eva ); Michaela Selinger ( Magdalene ); Marco Jentzsch ( Walther von Stolzing ); Topi Lehtipuu ( David ); Gerald Finley ( Hans Sachs ); Johannes Martin Kränzle ( Sixtus Beckmesser ); Alastair Miles ( Veit Pogner ); Glyndebourne Festival Ch; London PO • OPUS ARTE OA 1085 D (2 DVDs: 300:00) OA BD7108 (Blu-ray) Live: Glyndebourne 6/2011


John Christie, Glyndebourne’s founder, was Wagner-obsessed and would have dearly loved to present one of the composer’s operas early-on in the Festival’s history. But such an undertaking was not a reasonable possibility in Glyndebourne’s original 300-seat theater. As John Christie’s grandson recounts in one of this Blu-ray’s “extras,” an early Glyndebourne conductor commented “if you put on Wagner, you’ll need to put the audience on the stage and the stage in the auditorium.” Glyndebourne got a new opera house in the 1990s, seating 1,250, and Wagner finally came to East Sussex in 2003 with a production of Tristan und Isolde. This David McVicar-directed Meistersinger represents Glyndebourne’s second Wagner staging, and it’s something special.


Die Meistersinger , at one level, is about intergenerational conflict and being able to cast younger singers as the quartet of lovers is a real plus. (The recent PentaTone Meistersinger on SACD succeeds, in part, because those singers at least sound youthful.) At Glyndebourne, McVicar notes, he could “cast singers that are appropriate to the ages of their characters and are physically convincing.” Marco Jentzsch, the strapping Walther, has got to be 6’3” or 6’4”—a far cry from the all-too-common fireplug Stolzings, whose boots come up most of the way to their protuberant abdomens. If Jentzsch can’t belt out the Prize Song as powerfully as a Ben Heppner or Peter Seifert, he’s fully up to the lyrical requirements of the role and his voice has a pleasant timbre. The Finnish tenor Topi Lehtipuu handles the part of David very effectively, both his character’s palpable horniness and, more critically, the act I exegesis on song writing. Anna Gabler is a complex and passionate Eva, as confused as Nuremberg’s shoemaker about the possibility of a future as Mrs. Hans Sachs. Michaela Selinger, the Magdalena, is perky and vocally appealing.


Alistair Miles portrays a Pogner that is Sach’s equal in intelligence and integrity, despite his fat-cat status; Johannes Martin Kränzle’s Beckmesser executes the requisite physical comedy and manages just the correct amount of pedantry and pride to define the town clerk’s obvious short-comings while leaving him a sympathetic character. Beckmesser, here, is a victim of his own personality failings rather than a fundamentally bad person. Any Meistersinger, of course, depends on its Sachs to keep our interest up for five hours, and Gerald Finley is a superb one. He happens to be the best singer here, but his acting is what makes this production so compelling. Finley’s character, we know from the outset, is thoroughly engaged with the dual goals of achieving artistic progress and promoting Stolzing’s romantic efforts—but is also a very conflicted human being. When the curtain goes up for act III, it’s clear that Sachs has been drinking all night and he kicks some furniture around. He uncovers a portrait of his late wife. And just before Walther enters to compose his song, we see Sachs pick up a pen to write something—presumably a contest song to compete for Eva himself. The Knight comes into the workshop and Sachs backs away from the abyss.


It’s that sort of theatrical detail that makes this production exceptional. The size of the stage and hall is still small by Metropolitan Opera or Covent Garden standards and allows for a high level of intimacy. As McVicar tells us “Everyone on stage is a character and has a story.” Watch the Masters as they congregate in acts I and III, especially the guy with the ear trumpet. That’s “Ulrich Eisslinger,” not exactly a major role—he has one line in the act I roll call. The part is positively savored by Adrian Thomson, who responds to every event on stage with facial expressions and body language that are alone practically worth the price of admission. And look at the Masters’ faces when Walther’s final version of the Prize Song takes an unexpected harmonic turn. These guys—the singers and their characters—are really listening deeply.


McVicar moves the action from the 16th century to the early 19th, the era into which the composer was born. In a second extra feature, Die Meistersinger —An Opera with Baggage, the director reminds us that the 1820s and 1830s were a time before Unification when Germans “could point to their culture as an expression of their national identity.” By considering Meistersinger in the context of this time frame, McVicar doesn’t need to directly address the future commandeering of this work for the vilest of nationalistic purposes. I like any Meistersinger where Beckmesser stays on stage after his humiliation. He’s not the “other”—he’s still part of a community.


The production is sumptuously lit and filmed, in the same league as the Met’s venerable Otto Schenk version—and the meadow scene is a real eyeful. The sound is richly detailed with excellent vocal/orchestral balances. (In multichannel, the “auf den theater” brass fanfares are definitely coming from afar.) Subtitles are offered in English, French, and German. Glyndebourne’s Meistersinger goes straight to the top of the heap among the eight video versions in my collection. It registers here, to use David McVicar’s words, as “a profoundly human, wise, warm, loving work.”


FANFARE: Andrew Quint

Also available on standard DVD

Note: This Blu-ray Disc is playable only on Blu-ray Disc players, and not compatible with standard DVD players. Christoph Willibald Gluck
IPHIGÉNIE EN AULIDE / IPHIGÉNIE EN TAURIDE
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Iphigénie en Aulide

Iphigénie – Véronique Gens
Diane – Salomé Haller
Agamemnon – Nicolas Testé
Clytemnestre – Anne Sofie von Otter

Iphigénie en Tauride

Iphigénie – Mireille Delunsch
Thoas – Laurent Alvaro
Oreste – Jean-François Lapointe
Pylade – Yann Beuron
Diane – Salomé Haller

Netherlands Opera Chorus
Les Musiciens du Louvre Grenoble
Marc Minkowski, conductor

Pierre Audi, stage director

Recorded live at De Nederlandse Opera, September 2011

Bonus
- Cast gallery
- Behind-the-scenes documentaries

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM Stereo 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Dutch, Korean
Running time: 229 mins (operas) + 39 mins (bonus)
No. of Discs: 1

R E V I E W:
Of Gluck’s two operas devoted to the character of Iphigénie, it is the latter one that has the overwhelming lion’s share of performances and recordings. I have long found that regrettable; while there is no question for me that Iphigénie en Tauride is Gluck’s greatest operatic masterwork, Iphigénie en Aulide is a marvelous work in its own right that deserves far better than benign neglect. I have sometimes wondered if, somewhat paradoxically, Aulide is slighted because its dramaturgy is somewhat more conventional than that of Gluck’s other major “reform” operas, with its frustrated young lovers, parents of divided sympathies, and so forth. However, this also allows Gluck to employ a more varied musical palette, as he has four major roles in different voice ranges (plus a crucial fifth supporting role) instead of only two or three.

It is therefore a very good thing indeed to have these two operas, whose plots have a fine formal dramatic continuity, brought together in a single set, even if the results are rather mixed. To deliver the bad news first, the production—as one necessarily expects from the Netherlands Opera—is yet another example of the blight of Regietheater. That said, it is thankfully one that is simply jejune rather than offensive. The set consists of two sets of metal bleachers facing one another, on which the characters clamber up and down, or else stand in between them; the majority of personnel are clad in rumpled trenchcoats, generic military uniforms, or leisure suits. (I was first exposed to the bleachers-and-trenchcoats conceit almost 25 years ago at the Oper Unter den Linden in what was then East Berlin, though I suspect that the straitened finances of a collapsing communist economy, rather than any great desire to promote avant-garde aesthetics, were responsible for its use in numerous productions there.) It all looks done on the cheap, though it probably cost an absurd amount of money. There are a few additional silly twists to this drab spectacle as well. Once Iphigénie (in Aulide) is named to be a sacrificial victim to the gods, she appears wearing a suicide bomb belt with an X painted on her forehead, while the minor character of Arcas is the obligatory half-naked hunk in skin-tight pants.

Fortunately, the stage direction largely ignores the costumes and for once has the characters interact in entirely appropriate ways—no orgies, or oral sex, or groping, or armed figures murdering people en masse, etc., etc. The singers seize the opportunity and, particularly in Aulide, give intense, even riveting performances that make one forget the dreary sets and garments and focus instead upon the characters and their respective plights. In Tauride, they are for some reason given much less with which to work, and consequently its dramatic voltage is significantly lower.

There is a very similar split in the musical values, with those for Aulide being very high, and for Tauride somewhat lower. Conductor Marc Minkowski has dedicated himself to promoting the operas of Gluck, and he leads both performances with searing intensity and passion. Compared to Minkowski, John Eliot Gardiner in his 1990 studio recording of Aulide for Erato—until now the only available recording of Gluck’s original score, as opposed to Wagner’s adaptation of it—is correct but somewhat staid. Véronique Gens is a superb Iphigénie, more characterful and potent than Lynne Dawson is for Gardiner, capturing every one of her character’s tormented twists and turns between hope, joy, resignation, and despair. Frédéric Antouin is her worthy partner as Achille, offering impassioned singing in the gleaming tones of a full-bodied lyric tenor. He too is superior to John Aler, his able counterpart under Gardiner. As Clytemnestre, Anne Sophie von Otter reprises her previous assumption of the role for Gardiner. If her voice is not quite as fresh as it was over 20 years before, it remains a remarkably fine instrument; she shows virtually none of the unsteadiness in her top notes that slightly marred her otherwise excellent recording of Swedish songs I reviewed in 36:3, and she has if anything deepened her conception of her role. Nicolas Teste is likewise an excellent Agamemnon, who makes his almost schizophrenic character highly sympathetic and holds his own in comparison with José van Dam under Gardiner. Christian Helmer is an effective Calchas, if not ideally steady vocally and inferior to Gilles Cachemaille under Gardiner. In the comprimario roles, Laurent Alvaro pushes his voice too hard as Thoas, but Martijn Cornet is a decent Patrocle. Salomé Haller is a competent but not arresting Diane in both operas.

There is only one reason I do not give this Iphigénie en Aulide an unqualified endorsement over Gardiner’s CD set as the version of choice; whereas both conductors cut the ballet music that Gluck recycled for his Don Juan, Minkowski also makes further cuts in two choral sections that remove an additional 15 minutes or so of music. Perhaps he believed that to be a painful necessity due to the presentation of both operas in a single evening, but it is greatly to be regretted.

By contrast, Iphigénie en Tauride is presented intact. Here my standard of comparison is the other performance of this opera on DVD, the 2000 performance from Zurich under William Christie. I am in near total agreement with James Camner’s review of it in 30:3, being only even more enthusiastic about Christie’s conducting and less so about Anton Scharinger’s singing as Thoas. While the giant bobble-head costumes used in that Regietheater production are indeed ludicrous, I will grudgingly concede that the pseudo-Freudian conceit behind them has more to offer both visually and conceptually than the drab, sterile setting saddled upon Minkowski, and hence makes for relatively more compelling drama. Also, while three of the four principal singers here are quite solid (those being Mireille Delunsch, Yann Beuron, and Jean-François Lapointe), they all are markedly inferior to Juliette Galstien, Deon van der Walt, and Rodney Gilfrey, their counterparts under Christie, with Galstien and Gilfrey in particular being outstanding in every way, and Alvaro’s wobbly Thoas is a marked liability for Minkowski.

There is a supplemental feature, lasting 38 minutes, on the creation of the two opera productions. Since they come together as a pair, my counsel is to get this for the superb Aulide despite the cuts, and tolerate or ignore the Tauride.

FANFARE: James A. Altena

VERDI Rigoletto & • Edward Downes, cond; Christine Schäfer (Gilda); Marcelo Álvarez (Duke of Mantua); Paolo Gavanelli (Rigoletto); Eric Halfvarson (Sparafucile); Elizabeth Sikora (Giovanna); Graciela Araya (Maddalena); Peter Auty (Borsa); Giovan Battista Parodi (Monterone); Royal Op O & Ch • OPUS ARTE 6005 (DVD: 135:15 + 11:33) Live: London 9/19/2001.

& Documentary: Verdi Through the Looking Glass (17:50); Interview with David McVicar

This Rigoletto directed by David McVicar, last available on a Kultur DVD in 2009, is not to be confused with the other Marcelo Álvarez Rigoletto with soprano Inva Mula and baritone Carlos Alvarez (originally issued by TDK in 2004 and reissued by Arthaus Musik in 2010). I reviewed the latter performance in Fanfare 34:2 and found it interesting but somewhat ho-hum. This one apparently made its appearance in a boxed set from the BBC that also included productions of Falstaff and Il trovatore. Unless the Fanfare Archive is incorrect (I checked under “Singers” for Paolo Gavanelli as well as under “Composers & Works” for “Verdi Rigoletto”), this one seems to have somehow escaped being previously reviewed in Fanfare.

McVicar, in his brief interview, describes Rigoletto as “a scream of rage” against social inequality. He’s probably right. He also brings up the Communist Manifesto and relates Verdi to it. He’s probably wrong. Rigoletto was just good old Victor Hugo, and Hugo had a lifelong fascination with hunchbacks and other physically deformed humans. That’s all it is. It’s not a Communist plot. “It deals with questions of what is beautiful, what is ugly,” he continues, and in that he is 100 percent correct. That was, indeed, Hugo’s focal point. Neither Tribolet (Rigoletto) nor Quasimodo (the hunchback of Notre Dame) are bad people, just unfortunate in the way they were born. “This [opera] is about things that are darker, things that are more unpalatable,” McVicar continues, and this, indeed, is the focus of his production.

An interesting point of dramatic relationship between the two DVD Rigolettos: in neither one does the title character have a real “hunchback” as one would imagine, for instance, from seeing either the Lon Chaney or Charles Laughton films of The Hunchback of Notre Dame. They have, rather, a sort of bulging shark fin growing out of their shoulders. One of the most impressive characterizations of the title role (and I’ve mentioned this before) was a 1970s filmed performance in which Rolando Panerai, his back bulging and deformed, scampered across the stage like some sort of huge and unsettling spider. I don’t demand that every Rigoletto act that way, but Panerai’s conception was uncomfortable to watch in a bizarre, black humor concept.

Thus, in McVicar’s mind, the opening “grand ballroom scene” has no splendor whatsoever. It is a dark, almost forbidding atmosphere in which topless women carouse like whores with the courtiers. The Duke of Mantua’s court has nothing festive, celebratory, or grand about it; it is seamy and disgusting, like the Duke himself. Yet the Duke is handsome and looks (relatively) innocent; it is his twisted jester who personifies all the ugliness inside of him, though Rigoletto is actually the most acutely self-aware person up there. He knows exactly what’s going on, what his function is within the court, and so is able to play up to the Duke’s depravity in a black-humor sort of way and thus win his favor.

Marcelo Álvarez, though a very accomplished tenor, is not one of the world’s great stage actors, thus he follows McVicar’s stage directions—looking rather blasé, jaded, and bored with the many topless beauties in his court—without really getting into the character the way a Jon Vickers, for instance, would have, yet he is certainly good enough to fit into the overall concept. “Questa o quella” sounds almost more brutal than jolly; this is no devil-may-care flirt, but a lecherous Don Juan with no pretense at looking or acting like a gentleman—except when he is play-acting with Gilda. In a way, however, I found the overwhelming number of topless women carousing around like whores to be too much of a bad thing. OK, fine, you made your point. Do you have to keep drumming it over our head like Gene Krupa’s tom-toms? Enough already. I mean, why would they even bother getting dressed in the first place if all they’re going to do is run around laughing and having their dresses pulled down and their knickers pulled up? Yet vocally and dramatically, this performance really takes off. Downes drives his orchestra, chorus, and soloists like a man possessed—I haven’t heard such a well-conducted Rigoletto since the old Bonynge recording—and all the solo voices are good in the first scene, even the dark sound of Parodi as Monterone. Gavanelli not only has a first-class voice, he knows how to use it for both musical and dramatic effect and is a fine stage actor as well. Vocally, the one fly in the ointment is Halfvarson as Sparafucile. His voice has a squally sound, which is exacerbated by an uneven flutter bordering on wobble, but he is a good stage actor, so that’s half the battle won.

I’ve long felt that Edward Downes was one of the more underrated opera conductors in the world. For whatever reason, he always seemed to be overshadowed by other British opera conductors: John Barbirolli when he was younger, John Pritchard when he was older, and later by Antonio Pappano; yet though I am also a big fan of Pappano, there has never been any question in my mind that Downes was always better than Barbirolli or Pritchard, and his work here is splendid. He takes slightly more relaxed tempos than you might be familiar with from the Richard Bonynge or Francesco Molinari-Pradelli recordings, and certainly more relaxed than Arturo Toscanini took act III back in 1944, yet as always his conducting has real “bite.” Not only the brass and winds, but also the strings, speak to you as the drama unfolds on stage, and that, to me, is definitely the mark of a great conductor. Here, too, he uses rubato, rallentandos, and other rhythmic devices to occasionally elongate the musical line without distorting it, as well as a wide range of dynamics and accents to make the music “speak.” A sterling example of how he works may be heard in “Pari siamo,” that difficult quasi-parlando aria in which the title character vacillates between self-reflection and loathing of the court and those he must serve and make laugh. This has always been, for me, one of the supreme highlights of this opera, yet too many baritones run through it as if it were a bel canto exercise. Gavanelli and Downes know exactly how to play it, and it comes off beautifully. The baritone here reveals as great a command of soft singing and half-shades as of ringing, forte high notes.

There’s a bit of luxury casting here in having Christine Schäfer, the world’s most famous exponent of Berg’s Lulu, singing Gilda. She is in superb voice and, more importantly, is a fine stage actress. Moreover, she is able to bring the voice “down” enough from its usual stratospheric heights to give the middle and lower ranges some richness and depth, something I would not have expected of her prior to hearing this. Toscanini, defying operatic conventions of his day and long afterward, insisted that Gilda be sung by a strong lyric soprano voice of the sort that could conceivably also sing Aida and Leonora. For generations, collectors have been enamored of the 1944 performance he gave of act III with Zinka Milanov as Gilda, but although Milanov sang very well her basic timbre was wrong for the part. It was simply too dark and matronly-sounding, more like a 40-year-old Gilda. Toscanini had a much better soprano in his 1943 broadcast, Gertrude Ribla. My other favorite Gildas in the lyric soprano mold are Maria Callas, Cristina Deutekom (only in the first duet with Rigoletto; I don’t think she ever sang the complete role on stage) and Margarita Rinaldi in the aforementioned performance with Panerai, but to this very short list I now add Schäfer. She not only sings it well but brings an entirely new dimension to Gilda that only Ribla and Callas came close to. I was also delightfully surprised to hear that many of the normal cuts in the music were opened up here. In “E il sol dell’anima,” Álvarez sings some of the phrases with something close to the melting legato and sensual phrasing of Tito Schipa—another pleasant surprise. Both soprano and tenor hit the high D? at the end of “Addio, addio,” yet both cut it off short as the score prescribes. Verdi would have been very pleased by this, yet perhaps more so by Schäfer’s near miraculous performance of “Caro nome.” She is even better, musically and dramatically, in this worn-out set piece than Callas or Rinaldi, binding the phrases beautifully yet still “clipping” the descending eighth notes as the score demands, limning every trill, however short, with dramatic meaning. This is surely the work of a great singing actress, and Schäfer does herself proud. Unlike so many practitioners of this role over the decades, Schäfer doesn’t “give them what they want to hear” but what the score dictates, and the aria is all the stronger for it.

One of the more brilliant moments in this production comes when the Duke sings “Ella mi fu rapita … Parmi veder le lagrime.” You finally understand the words. You’re not necessarily supposed to feel sorry for the Duke, but you are supposed to understand that Gilda’s purity of character made him come close to mending his ways. Would he have? Probably not, and that is the dramatic irony of the aria. Also interestingly, vocal delicacy and dramatic subtlety crown the second half of Rigoletto’s “Cortigianni” aria, with Gavanelli singing as tenderly in this section as Giuseppe de Luca once did, albeit with greater dramatic meaning in his delivery.

Wonder of wonders, Álvarez sings “La donna è mobile” with lightness and delicacy—again, à la Schipa—though he does not resist the temptation to sing the unwritten high B at the end. Yet he does also, even more surprisingly, sing the opening solo lines of “Bella figlia dell’amore” with equal delicacy, at once bringing the voice down to a mere thread of sound, a fil da voce, which makes a much greater dramatic impact than shouting it out. Graciela Araya is an excellent Maddalena, both vocally and histrionically, and the quartet ends quietly with no one banging out a high note—again, as the score directs—and Downes’s conducting of the storm scene is just as powerful as Toscanini’s. The final scene is touchingly sung and acted. All in all, a splendid performance.

The mini-documentary Verdi Through the Looking-Glass features one of the strangest and most exclusive clubs in the world: a group of old men in Parma who are named after each of Verdi’s operas! So you get to meet Macbeth, Il giorno di regno, I masnadieri, Rigoletto, Otello, Aida, Falstaff, La forza del destino, I due Foscari, etc. in the flesh. (They don’t mention whether or not one of them is named Messa da Requiem!) And they sit around and drink green-colored alcoholic beverages (the color comes from kiwi juice) at nine in the morning!

FANFARE: Lynn René Bayley

This is Dove e amore e gelosia's first revival in modern times, and it takes place in the very same Baroque theatre, impeccably restored to it's original glory, that hosted the first performance. With a cast of young singers drawn from Prague's National Theatre and a stylish period-instrument ensemble, this vivid reconstruction will delight audiences.

The Italian and international press were unanimous in their praise for Peter Grimes at La Scala, which revived the tradition of Britten's operas on the lyric stages of Italy. A strong British cast was marshaled by the baton of Robin Ticciati, who has already won golden opinions for his opera conducting.