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

Also available on standard DVD

Hector Berlioz
LES TROYENS

Énée – Lance Ryan
Chorèbe – Gabriele Viviani
Panthée – Giorgio Giuseppini
Narbal – Stephen Milling
Iopas – Eric Cutler
Ascagne – Oksana Shilova
Cassandre – Elisabete Matos
Didon – Daniele Barcellona
Anna – Zlata Bulycheva

Valencia Regional Government Choir (Cor de la Generalitat Valenciana)
Valencian Community Orchestra (Orquestra de la Comunitat Valenciana)
Valery Gergiev, conductor

La Fura dels Baus, staging
Carlus Padrissa, stage director
Ronald Olbeter, stage designer
Peter van Praet, lighting designer
Chu Uroz, costume designer

Recorded live from the Palau de les Arts “Reina Sofia”, Valencia, Spain, 2009.

Bonus:
- The making of Les Troyens

Picture format: 1080p High Definition
Sound format: DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: French, English, German, Spanish, Chinese, Korean
Booklet notes: English, German, French
Running time: 240 mins (opera) + 21 mins (documentary)
No. of Discs: 2

"Ancient myth meets Star Wars, and the eye is constantly engaged with images ranging from space-age technology to details of soccer uniforms." The New York Times

"This is a worthy and compelling, glittering version of a sublime work." International Herald Tribune

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

Also available on standard DVD

Giuseppe Verdi
LA TRAVIATA
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Violetta – Renée Fleming
Alfredo Germont – Joseph Calleja
Giorgio Germont – Thomas Hampson
Baron Douphol – Eddie Wade
Doctor Grenvil – Richard Wiegold

Royal Opera House Chorus and Orchestra
Antonio Pappano, conductor
Richard Eyre, stage director

Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London, June and July 2009.

Bonus:
- Cast gallery
- Antonio Pappano interviews Renée Fleming

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Italian
Running time: 135 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

R E V I E W:



VERDI La Traviata • Antonio Pappano, cond; Renée Fleming ( Violetta ); Joseph Calleja ( Alfredo ); Thomas Hampson ( Germont ); Royal Op House Ch & O • OPUS ARTE OA 1040 D (DVD); OA BD7076 D (Blu-ray: 154:00) Live: Covent Garden 6/27 & 30/2009


Back in Fanfare 34:1 I reviewed the recent DVD of La traviata with Angela Gheorghiu, Ramón Vargas, Roberto Frontali, and Lorin Maazel at La Scala. To summarize that briefly, my verdict was: excellent staging, superlative Gheorghiu, good Vargas and Maazel, hapless Frontali and comprimario singers. I also provided an extensive overview of other versions of the opera on DVD; all are flawed, but the best alternatives are the 1968 film version on VAI with Anna Moffo, Franco Bonisolli, Gino Bechi, and Giuseppe Patané; a 1972 Tokyo staging starring Renata Scotto, José Carreras, Sesto Bruscantini, and Nino Verchi, also on VAI; and the 2006 Los Angeles Opera production on Decca with Renée Fleming, Rolando Villazón, Renato Bruson, and James Conlon. Opus Arte now brings us a new version with Renée Fleming, and while it too is not without its flaws, it joins the aforementioned entries in the top rank of La traviata performances on video.


At the risk of seeming like a gaggle of geese nibbling this DVD to death, I will state up front that this version of the opera is carried by a few great strengths over multiple secondary weaknesses. The strengths are easy to state: All the principal roles are securely sung, a top-notch conductor is on the podium, and the staging is sensible. In particular, Joseph Calleja is one of the greatest Alfredos ever to record the role. While not ideally handsome and dashing in physical appearance, he has the ringing tenor voice, secure technique, heartbreaking plangency of timbre, and interpretive imagination for the ideal Alfredo. Every time he opens his mouth, you simply don’t want him to close it again. He is also an effective actor whose facial expressions, postures, and gestures harmonize with his singing.


After Calleja, however, the “yes, but” element of this review enters in for everyone and everything else, beginning with the Violetta of Renée Fleming. Doubtless she is a very good Violetta, and superior to many rivals, but I do not think she is a truly great one. Compared to her Los Angeles performance from three years earlier, her interpretation is considerably deeper but her vocal technique (particularly in “Sempre libera”) is more labored and the sound less creamy. Thankfully, she does far less of the distracting grimacing and bizarre grinning than before, though sometimes it still intrudes (someone needs to tell her to rehearse in front of a mirror). However, my greater concern is that her acting is too calculated and external to the character rather than indwelling it; she expends too much energy portraying, rather than being, Violetta. The gestures and movements all seem too self-conscious; instead of just picking up a champagne bottle, or flitting a handkerchief, or sitting down in a chair, one can almost see her thinking, “Now I’m supposed to pick up the champagne bottle,” “Now I should flit my handkerchief,” “Now I should sit down in this chair.” Again, I would prefer to emphasize the real improvement in her characterization in just three years, but this dimension is present and it does matter.


Next there is the Germont of Thomas Hampson. The good news is that he is in steady and secure voice here—not always the case recently—which is more than can be said for much of his painfully superannuated competition. The less than ideal news is that, in order to keep the voice steady, he constantly forces it so that every syllable is pushed out at a forte with a hard, unyielding tone that limits him to a single mode of expression, one of preemptive sternness. His acting and facial gestures are similarly limited and wooden; when Violetta pleads for his fatherly embrace he remains stock-still and ignores her, and displays equal unconcern for his son at “Di Provenza il mar.” In an unintentionally comic sartorial aspect, the light green piping on his brown suit unavoidably conjures up a chocolate sundae with mint drizzle icing, while his stiff posture and lumbering gait in an over-padded full-length fur coat keep bringing to mind actor Fred Gwynne (aka Herman Munster). Again, I don’t want these smaller details to override the fact that Hampson’s Germont trumps that of many lesser singers, but again they are present and do matter.


The rest can be summarized more briefly. One always expects fine Verdi conducting when Antonio Pappano is in the pit, and so it proves here; but this time he seems a bit too deferential to his singers and the performance lacks the extra frisson found in his very best interpretations, and I actually find myself preferring Maazel overall despite his occasional eccentricities. The comprimario singers are uniformly excellent to a rare degree—every one of them could easily be singing a principal role in a major opera instead—and the deft stage direction makes their momentary interactions contribute far more to the cogency of the plot that I have ever experienced before. The recorded sound and film quality are quite good, with the quality of the Blu-ray disc only marginally superior to that of the regular DVD; the camerawork is sensible if not exceptional; the costumes are of the period and (Hampson’s suit and coat excepted) attractive and elegant; the ballet sequence at Flora’s party is nicely staged.


My one other major reservation concerns the production’s sets, which are quite pedestrian. Act I is set in a round room with brown wood paneling and a single large window with blinds in the back, with a small round settee and semicircular padded backless benches around it—no banquet table, chandelier, or anything else to indicate either elegance or the intended significance of Violetta in the round. While not the awful Willy Decker sofa and clock, it’s a major disappointment. The villa interior for act II, scene 1 is painted a drab eggshell blue and has no furniture other than a long work table and a few chairs. Several paintings—whether waiting to be hung or sold is not clear—are stacked on the floor to one side, and several little squares painted with stripes—color swatches, perhaps?—rest in a row on the wall molding halfway off the floor. It’s not very attractive, and simply leaves one baffled regarding the desired effect. By contrast, Flora’s party in act II scene 2 is appropriately elegant, marred only by garish red stage lighting, a huge modern dome light fixture hanging from the ceiling like an oversized cafeteria heat lamp hovering over sandwiches. Act III has an appropriately simple setting of a bare room outfitted with a bed, a dresser, and a couple of chairs, but again is marred by two enormous windows with blinds, against which inexplicably tall shadows (up to 30 feet) of carnival revelers are cast after Violetta finishes “Addio del passato.” Compared to the high-class La Scala staging for Gheorghiu, this is an impoverished country cousin.


So, once again, we still await the ideal La traviata . In the best of all possible worlds, I would be able to take the La Scala production, replace its wretched comprimario singers with their Covent Garden counterparts, swap out Vargas for Calleja, and replace Frontali with almost any other baritone from another DVD. (Leonard Warren, where are you when we need you?) Barring such a pleasing impossibility, however, this production is as good as any other and better than most, and is recommended accordingly.


FANFARE: James A. Altena

R E V I E W:



VERDI La Traviata • Antonio Pappano, cond; Renée Fleming ( Violetta ); Joseph Calleja ( Alfredo ); Thomas Hampson ( Germont ); Royal Op House Ch & O • OPUS ARTE OA 1040 D (DVD); OA BD7076 D (Blu-ray: 154:00) Live: Covent Garden 6/27 & 30/2009


Back in Fanfare 34:1 I reviewed the recent DVD of La traviata with Angela Gheorghiu, Ramón Vargas, Roberto Frontali, and Lorin Maazel at La Scala. To summarize that briefly, my verdict was: excellent staging, superlative Gheorghiu, good Vargas and Maazel, hapless Frontali and comprimario singers. I also provided an extensive overview of other versions of the opera on DVD; all are flawed, but the best alternatives are the 1968 film version on VAI with Anna Moffo, Franco Bonisolli, Gino Bechi, and Giuseppe Patané; a 1972 Tokyo staging starring Renata Scotto, José Carreras, Sesto Bruscantini, and Nino Verchi, also on VAI; and the 2006 Los Angeles Opera production on Decca with Renée Fleming, Rolando Villazón, Renato Bruson, and James Conlon. Opus Arte now brings us a new version with Renée Fleming, and while it too is not without its flaws, it joins the aforementioned entries in the top rank of La traviata performances on video.


At the risk of seeming like a gaggle of geese nibbling this DVD to death, I will state up front that this version of the opera is carried by a few great strengths over multiple secondary weaknesses. The strengths are easy to state: All the principal roles are securely sung, a top-notch conductor is on the podium, and the staging is sensible. In particular, Joseph Calleja is one of the greatest Alfredos ever to record the role. While not ideally handsome and dashing in physical appearance, he has the ringing tenor voice, secure technique, heartbreaking plangency of timbre, and interpretive imagination for the ideal Alfredo. Every time he opens his mouth, you simply don’t want him to close it again. He is also an effective actor whose facial expressions, postures, and gestures harmonize with his singing.


After Calleja, however, the “yes, but” element of this review enters in for everyone and everything else, beginning with the Violetta of Renée Fleming. Doubtless she is a very good Violetta, and superior to many rivals, but I do not think she is a truly great one. Compared to her Los Angeles performance from three years earlier, her interpretation is considerably deeper but her vocal technique (particularly in “Sempre libera”) is more labored and the sound less creamy. Thankfully, she does far less of the distracting grimacing and bizarre grinning than before, though sometimes it still intrudes (someone needs to tell her to rehearse in front of a mirror). However, my greater concern is that her acting is too calculated and external to the character rather than indwelling it; she expends too much energy portraying, rather than being, Violetta. The gestures and movements all seem too self-conscious; instead of just picking up a champagne bottle, or flitting a handkerchief, or sitting down in a chair, one can almost see her thinking, “Now I’m supposed to pick up the champagne bottle,” “Now I should flit my handkerchief,” “Now I should sit down in this chair.” Again, I would prefer to emphasize the real improvement in her characterization in just three years, but this dimension is present and it does matter.


Next there is the Germont of Thomas Hampson. The good news is that he is in steady and secure voice here—not always the case recently—which is more than can be said for much of his painfully superannuated competition. The less than ideal news is that, in order to keep the voice steady, he constantly forces it so that every syllable is pushed out at a forte with a hard, unyielding tone that limits him to a single mode of expression, one of preemptive sternness. His acting and facial gestures are similarly limited and wooden; when Violetta pleads for his fatherly embrace he remains stock-still and ignores her, and displays equal unconcern for his son at “Di Provenza il mar.” In an unintentionally comic sartorial aspect, the light green piping on his brown suit unavoidably conjures up a chocolate sundae with mint drizzle icing, while his stiff posture and lumbering gait in an over-padded full-length fur coat keep bringing to mind actor Fred Gwynne (aka Herman Munster). Again, I don’t want these smaller details to override the fact that Hampson’s Germont trumps that of many lesser singers, but again they are present and do matter.


The rest can be summarized more briefly. One always expects fine Verdi conducting when Antonio Pappano is in the pit, and so it proves here; but this time he seems a bit too deferential to his singers and the performance lacks the extra frisson found in his very best interpretations, and I actually find myself preferring Maazel overall despite his occasional eccentricities. The comprimario singers are uniformly excellent to a rare degree—every one of them could easily be singing a principal role in a major opera instead—and the deft stage direction makes their momentary interactions contribute far more to the cogency of the plot that I have ever experienced before. The recorded sound and film quality are quite good, with the quality of the Blu-ray disc only marginally superior to that of the regular DVD; the camerawork is sensible if not exceptional; the costumes are of the period and (Hampson’s suit and coat excepted) attractive and elegant; the ballet sequence at Flora’s party is nicely staged.


My one other major reservation concerns the production’s sets, which are quite pedestrian. Act I is set in a round room with brown wood paneling and a single large window with blinds in the back, with a small round settee and semicircular padded backless benches around it—no banquet table, chandelier, or anything else to indicate either elegance or the intended significance of Violetta in the round. While not the awful Willy Decker sofa and clock, it’s a major disappointment. The villa interior for act II, scene 1 is painted a drab eggshell blue and has no furniture other than a long work table and a few chairs. Several paintings—whether waiting to be hung or sold is not clear—are stacked on the floor to one side, and several little squares painted with stripes—color swatches, perhaps?—rest in a row on the wall molding halfway off the floor. It’s not very attractive, and simply leaves one baffled regarding the desired effect. By contrast, Flora’s party in act II scene 2 is appropriately elegant, marred only by garish red stage lighting, a huge modern dome light fixture hanging from the ceiling like an oversized cafeteria heat lamp hovering over sandwiches. Act III has an appropriately simple setting of a bare room outfitted with a bed, a dresser, and a couple of chairs, but again is marred by two enormous windows with blinds, against which inexplicably tall shadows (up to 30 feet) of carnival revelers are cast after Violetta finishes “Addio del passato.” Compared to the high-class La Scala staging for Gheorghiu, this is an impoverished country cousin.


So, once again, we still await the ideal La traviata . In the best of all possible worlds, I would be able to take the La Scala production, replace its wretched comprimario singers with their Covent Garden counterparts, swap out Vargas for Calleja, and replace Frontali with almost any other baritone from another DVD. (Leonard Warren, where are you when we need you?) Barring such a pleasing impossibility, however, this production is as good as any other and better than most, and is recommended accordingly.


FANFARE: James A. Altena

"These are extremely fine recordings, topped only by Boulez himself on DG, performances not necessarily "better", but certainly sonically superior. Still, I retain a marginal preference for this ebullient and harrowing La Valse, and the super-precise and super-cool Cleveland interpretation of the Rapsodie is unique. Whether those qualities are what you want in this particular piece is very much a matter of personal choice; in his Berlin remake, Boulez put a little more meat on the music's bones. Boléro builds to a massively powerful climax...The sound suits the different orchestras: chamber-like in Cleveland, big and even boomy in New York, with a touch of glassiness to the strings in louder passages. At less than full price, this is an extremely good deal, even if you already have tons of Ravel in your collection." [4/20/2006]

--David Hurwitz, ClassicsToday.com Reviewing earlier release

As soon as I saw Bizet: Complete Piano Music listed as a new release on the Naxos website, I realized that I had never before even thought of Georges Bizet in relation to piano compositions or piano music. I listened to the album for the first time with trepidation. Was there a reason his piano works had evaded popularity for so long? Was there a reason that quick checks of the internet revealed only two recorded piano recitals of Bizet prior to this one, neither offering the “complete” works?

Not all of this music is especially memorable, and none of it is profound. But one can safely slot Bizet into the tradition of Moszkowski, Paderewski, Mendelssohn, Gottschalk and others as a composer of admirable, charming little salon miniatures which, one imagines, gave amateurs of the day considerable pleasure and provided the composers with respectable calling-cards at evening parties. Even in this field, I would not credit Bizet with the originality some of those other composers exhibited in their works for piano.

Julia Severus has carefully and cleverly programmed her two discs here. Each begins with lighter fare, progresses through a smart alternation of serious and slight, and ends with one of the L’Arlésienne suites, arranged for piano by the composer. The two nocturnes on CD 1 are reminiscent more of Mendelssohn’s Songs without Words than anything by Chopin, and I prefer the lovely cantabile F major to the less-inspired example in D. There are several waltzes bathed in the perfume of the salons of Paris. The C major waltz really is a clever delight with some surprises in store, although the “Grand valse de concert” does not have a main tune nearly as hummable as Moszkowski’s work by the same title. The three Esquisses include a “Ronde turque” which impressed me as sounding quite a lot more authentically Turkish than almost any other western piece bearing that title.

The most dramatic work on CD 1 is Variations chromatiques, the chromatic passages of which serve up high drama and empty virtuosity in equal measure before the piece turns into a rather pedestrian, wandering “happy romantic” piece near the middle. An ominous ending, consciously imitative of Beethoven, barely manages to save it. The four Preludes are refreshing and nicely varied in mood, although they add up to just three minutes’ worth of music. The two Caprices are rather longer and I actually found the first quite interesting in its spicy blend of minor mode, sly attitude and stealthy rhythms. Again, think of Moszkowski, or perhaps even of a Chopin mazurka. Both Caprices sound as if they are just waiting to be orchestrated; by contrast, the first L’Arlésienne suite has been de-orchestrated here, and the beginning of the introduction does sound rather naked. In fact, it sounds like a fugue subject waiting to be put into counterpoint. The rest of the suite goes better; indeed, the minuet and carillons are quite successful as piano pieces.

The second CD opens with the longest work in the set: Chants du Rhin, a series of tone-pictures with titles like “Les rêves” which lasts for a little over twenty minutes. Even this work manages to be cutesy; “La bohémienne” is like a Chopin waltz composed by an inebriate. I think Julia Severus takes the opening movement a bit too quickly, but the others are better - “Les confidences” in particular is a well-voiced song begging for words. The most striking moment of the Magasin des familles comes near the end of the “Méditation réligieuse,” when Bizet caps off the piece with some unexpected, indeed totally out of place, fortissimo chords. Better is the second L’Arlésienne suite, which succeeds as a piano piece all the way through, especially the dance episode in the middle of the Pastorale and the dazzling passagework in the center of the final Farandole.

A few miniatures fill out the remainder of the set, all of them from essentially the same “songs without words” mold. The only Venetian characteristic I can detect in “Venise” is its melancholy mood, something like (one might say, creatively) a city reflecting that its best centuries are behind it. A “Romance sans paroles” is rather sans interest. The surprisingly Latin American “Marine” hints that Julia Severus would probably be a great performer of samba, ragtime and composers like Gershwin and Ernesto Nazareth.

I was surprised to realize that Bizet had even written piano music, so this set counts as a pleasant discovery. That some of the works, particularly the waltz in C, nocturne in F, “Marine”, and a few excerpts from L’Arlésienne, are actually very good makes this an even better surprise. Julia Severus is reliable and sensitive to the music’s lyricism and supplies her own well-written liner-notes, and the recorded sound is warm and close. This piano music is generally not too special - in fact none of it is “special” except maybe the sudden Brazilian turn of “Marine” - but all of it is, at a minimum, rather pretty, and “rather pretty” is a good thing to be. If you are fond of rather pretty piano music, here are two discs full of it waiting to be heard.

– Brian Reinhart, MusicWeb International

Ruggero Raimondi takes the lead role in this performance of Verdi's comic opera recorded at the Opera Royal de Wallonie in Liege, Belgium in 2009. Paolo Arrivabeni conducts. Falstaff, the lyric comedy was Giuseppe Verdi’s last opera. It is an operatic favorite, long admired by critics and opera goers alike because of its brilliant orchestration, scintillating libretto and refined melodies. This production recorded at the Opéra Royal de Wallonie in Liège, Belgium was staged by Stefano Poda and features the well known Italian Bass Ruggero Raimondi as the title-role. Directed by Stefano Poda. Starring Sabina Pu rtolas, Luca Salsi, Cinzia de Mola. Language: Italian Subtitles: English, French, Italian, German