Opera, Operetta, and Oratorio
1464 products
Don Carlos
Opera Highlights - STRAUSS, R. / VERDI, G. / MUSSORGSKY, M.P
Ludmila Dvorakova Sings Wagner & Smetana
Ludmila Dvorakova enjoyed global fame as a slim, blonde soprano with a magnificent stage presence and possessing a voice of a distinct timbre, capable of both softness and drama, smoothly negotiating the high registers and with a dark middle register, always accurate and breathtaking. She excelled in the most demanding dramatic soprano roles and, following in the footsteps of Ema Destinnova, Maria Jeritza and Jarmila Novotna, was the first modern-era Czech singer to appear at the world's major opera houses, including the MET in New York. Ludmila Dvorakova started her career in Ostrava and soon caught the attention of Prague, where the National Theatre engaged her in 1954. In the following year, she was afforded the opportunity to work for the Staatsoper in Vienna, and in 1960 for the Staatsoper in Berlin. When Wieland Wagner heard her singing Ortrude in Munich, he invited her to the Bayreuth festival. Her debut appearance, in 1965, was followed by six years of collaboration and a degree of fame that no Czech artist had previously attained in Bayreuth. In 1966, she was offered contracts with the MET and Covent Garden. This recital, featuring recordings released on CD for the very first time, is compiled from Dvorakova's rare studio recordings made for Supraphon and Czechoslovak Radio. The venerable soprano's imminent 90th birthday represents a perfect opportunity to recall a voice that garnered enthusiastic applause at major opera houses worldwide. Ludmila Dvorakova - a breathtaking voice that dazzled audiences at the most prestigious opera houses worldwide.
Wagner, R.: Walküre (Die) [Opera]
Ravel: L'heure espagnole / Arquez, Behr, Fisch, Munich Radio Orchestra
The thought of Spain filled many French composers of the 19th and early 20th century with musical yearning – one has only to think of Georges Bizet's opera "Carmen", Maurice Ravel's "Rhapsodie espagnole" (1907), or his famous "Boléro" (1928). Ravel was already inspired by things Iberian in his first work for the stage: "L’heure espagnole" ("The Spanish Hour"), a one-act musical comedy set in Toledo, which premiered in Paris on May 19, 1911. Here he combined fantasy and comedy in the action with “spoken music” full of local Spanish colour. The short opera ends, for instance, with a fiery habanera. Ravel masterfully and wittily integrates the clocks chiming in the workshop of clockmaker Torquemada into the score, together with the sound of their ticking, and of all kinds of chimes or mechanical music machines producing cuckoo calls when striking the hour. Emmanuel Chabrier's rhapsody for orchestra with the promising title of "España" was composed in 1883 and premiered in Paris. The music was inspired by a Spanish journey that Chabrier had undertaken the year before, during which he had noted down many original motifs and rhythms. Spanish folklore is ever-present; in addition to the melodies, it is above all the rhythmic motifs and movement patterns that, when combined, achieve a complexity that was still unknown in art music at that time. These are live recordings of these two magnificent works.
Richard Wagner: Gotterdammerung
Puccini: Manon Lescaut
Moncayo: La Mulata De Cordoba / Lomonaco, Thierry, Cama
Includes work(s) by José P. Moncayo García. Ensemble: Carlos Chavez Symphony Orchestra. Soloists: Gabriela Thierry, Gustavo Cuautil.
Mozart: Die Entführung aus dem Serail, K. 384
Wagner: Tannhäuser, WWV 70
Verdi: I Masnadieri / Luisotti Prestia, Machado, Rucinski
Also available on Blu-ray
Verdi composed I masnadieri, based on a play by Schiller, for Her Majesty’s Theatre, the Haymarket, in London. It was premiered in 1847 and was his first non-Italian commission—an honor that had not been bestowed on his three great predecessors, Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti. It was his sixth opera in four years, appearing just four months after Macbeth. The opera starred Jenny Lind, known as “The Swedish Nightingale”, probably the most famous soprano in the world at the time, in the opera’s only female role. Verdi did not compose cadenzas for her two arias—she was known to devise her own—and the opera was well received, with Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, and the Duke of Wellington in attendance.
Despite it being chock-full of exciting, blood-boiling melodies and rhythms, with fine—if conventional—arias, duets, and ensembles, its initial success was never repeated, most likely due to its poor, and very depressing, libretto. Amalia, the Jenny Lind role, is a bore in every way except musically—all she does is complain and mourn—and the story is both a bummer and hard to relate to. The old Count Massimiliano Moor’s two sons are Carlo and Francesco: Carlo, the older, is courageous and intellectual (when we meet him in Act 1 he is quoting Plutarch!); Francesco is cruel and conniving. Carlo is away at university when he receives a letter purportedly from his father, which was actually written by the evil Francesco, telling him not to bother returning home. Furious, he convinces his fellow students to become bandits(!).
At home, Francesco has turned Massimiliano against Carlo and convinced an ally to claim that Carlo is dead so that he is now the heir apparent—there’s plenty of mustache twirling. Amalia, Carlo’s betrothed, is told that Carlo’s last wish was for her to marry Francesco. Massimiliano collapses and appears to be dead; when he is seen to be alive, Francesco hurls him into a dungeon. To make a long story short, Francesco is so evil and guilt-ridden that he dreams of the Last Judgment and asks a priest for forgiveness, which the priest denies; Carlo and his fellow thieves attack the castle; Carlo sets Massimiliano free, and Amalia is happy to see him but is miserable about him becoming a bandit and begs him to kill her, which he does, as Massimiliano watches and Carlo turns himself over to the authorities. When Francesco is last seen, he is railing against God. Huh? And the text itself, devised by librettist Andrea Maffei, is awkward and scans poorly.
This compilation of performances in March, 2012 from Naples’ San Carlo serves the music handsomely. Tenor Aquiles Machado, whom I’d previously seen only in a well-sung but warped production of Tales of Hoffmann from Bilbao, is a splendid Carlo. His voice has grown since then, and he sings with passion, strong, centered tone, freedom at all registers, and utter commitment. And if he tires in the last act, it may be Verdi’s fault—the role is long and difficult. He may not cut a particularly heroic figure, but Carlo is at least part intellectual, so it works.
Artur Rucinski, a singer new to me, is remarkable as Francesco, a true Verdi baritone role. He’s made to be lame—hunchbacked and stiff-legged—as if his inward appearance were visible, which is hardly a necessary addition. Rucinski carries it off well enough and his singing is vital and expressive. Lucrecia Garcia is a vocal find as Amalia. The voice is big, bright, and agile; she, on the other hand, seems to be performing by rote and without direction or any subtlety in her phrasing. She gets most of the trills and coloratura and rides over climaxes well, but she’s emotionally detached. Giacomo Prestia’s Massimiliano is nicely sung and well-acted; he is victimized and sympathetic. The cast’s other standout is the Priest of Dario Russo, a comprimario role that nonetheless shows off a fine voice.
Neither the stage direction by Gabriele Lavia nor Alessandro Camera’s sets are worthy of either the opera or the musical performance. The set looks something like a seriously ruined old home, with no roof, dirt and leaves all over the floor, and dangerous-looking planks of wood—sort of like a run-down neighborhood. What does that have to do with the aristocracy? Or robbers (“masnadieri”)? Andrea Viotti’s costumes also are anachronistic (anachronistic with everything else on stage as well, not only with the opera and its presumed settings), with the robbers in long leather coats, sunglasses, and red scarves, and women at Francesco’s castle in tutus with pointy punk haircuts. There is a huge backdrop of a skull that reads “freedom or death”, and for Amalia’s prayer, a huge wooden cross descends into the midst of this mess. The characters’ gestures are stock opera behavior, save for Francesco’s lameness. All entrances are made from the center rear of the stage. You get the impression that the director simply despised the opera.
Nicola Luisotti’s leadership is excellent, from the warm cello solo that is featured in the prelude, through the introspective moments, to the angry confrontations, and the chorus and orchestra shine throughout. Luisotti has a fine sense that this opera is neither one of the truly “early” works, like Oberto or Alzira, nor as sophisticated as, say, Ballo or Forza. It is a work filled with conventional forms, but imbued with the energy of a professional, rather than a brilliant, novice.
The verdict? Well, I suspect that another video version of this opera will not come along for a while, and musically it is more than worthwhile, so it gets my recommendation. Subtitles are in all major European languages plus Korean, Japanese, and Chinese.
-- Robert Levine, ClassicsToday.com
Giuseppe Verdi
I MASNADIERI
Massimiliano – Giacomo Prestia
Carlo – Aquiles Machado
Francesco – Artur Rucinski
Amalia – Lucrecia Garcia
Arminio – Walter Omaggio
Moser – Dario Russo
Rolla – Massimiliano Chiarolla
San Carlo Theatre Ballet School
San Carlo Theater Chorus and Orchestra
(chorus master: Salvatore Caputo)
Nicola Luisotti, conductor
Gabriele Lavia, set director
Alessandro Camera, set designer
Andrea Viotti, costume designer
Carlo Netti, lighting designer
Recorded live at the Teatro di San Carlo, Naples, 21, 25, 27, 29, 31 March 2012
Bonus:
- Introduction to I Masnadieri
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: Italian, English, German, French, Spanish, Chinese, Korean, Japanese
Running time: 124 mins (opera) + 11 mins (bonus)
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)
Mozart: Die Entfuhrung Aus Dem Serail / Bolton, Damrau, Peretyatko, Strehl
Barcelona’s prestigious Gran Teatre del Liceu presents Mozart’s beloved Singspiel in an elegant, dramaturgically twisted production with a sparkling cast of top-rank international stars headed by coloratura soprano Diana Damrau as Konstanze and rising star Olga Peretyatko as Blonde. Stage director Christof Loy has conjured up a thought-provoking and strikingly original scenario in which both Konstanze and Blonde are feeling respect, admiration and even profound love for their captors. The result is a tantalizing approach that overturns the traditional patterns of good and evil.
“Diana Damrau achieved a huge success at the Barcelona Liceu.” Opera News “Franz-Josef Selig, the best Osmin I have ever seen.” Opera News
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
DIE ENTFÜHRUNG AUS DEM SERAIL
Selim – Christoph Quest
Konstanze – Diana Damrau
Blonde – Olga Peretyatko
Belmonte – Christoph Strehl
Pedrillo – Norbert Ernst
Osmin – Franz-Josef Selig
Liceu Grand Theatre Chorus and Orchestra
Ivor Bolton, conductor
Christof Loy, stage director
Herbert Murauer, set and costume designer
Olaf Winter, lighting designer
Recorded live at the Grand Teatre del Liceu, Barcelona, 2011
Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: PCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: German, English, French, Spanish, Catalan, Chinese, Korean
Running time: 188 mins
No. of DVDs: 2
The Very Best Of Mozart
Includes work(s) by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.
JEPHTHA
DON QUICHOTTE
Nicola Vaccaj: Giulietta e Romeo
Dvorak: Alfred / Forster, Prague Radio
In 1870 Dvorák was some years into his post as viola player in the Provisional Theatre in Prague. Smetana was the principal conductor and was laying the foundations for a Czech national opera. Given his direct involvement with works as diverse as William Tell, Fidelio, Faust and La Traviata it is no surprise that Dvorák should want to try his hand at operatic form. Even today, with only Rusalka of Dvorák's eleven operas in the international repertoire it is easy to forget that he wrote more stage works than the 'father' of Czech opera, Smetana. Alfred was his first operatic essay and the only one he wrote using a German libretto. The reason for this is most probably pragmatic and financial. The libretto by Karl Theodor Körner was already over fifty years old and had the benefits of being both dramatically apt and better still, free for him to use. At the time of its composition Dvorák was somewhat in the thrall of Wagner. This resulted in him using leitmotifs to delineate characters and there is an undoubted Germanic flavour to the work. Indeed, the shadow of Wagner hangs heavy over the work. Not that Dvorák was alone in having such an influence early in his compositional career. It could easily be argued that Strauss' Guntram is even more so. Which does lead me to wonder if Dvorák's 'shelving' of this work was more political - small and large 'p' - expediency than artistic critique. With extended passages of dramatic recitative and a consciously heroic style there is little of the Bohemian character that would become so typical of his greatest works. Aside from the Act I ballet which even though set in southern England is a proto-Slavonic dance, I am not sure anyone listening with an 'innocent ear' would be able to identify the composer.
At the same time there is so much to admire here. The work is well paced; three well balanced acts that do not outstay their welcome. Undoubtedly the characters are rather 'stock' and the work lacks a central villain to introduce any sense of danger but conversely they are considerably less generic than many similar works. A couple of other observations; the eponymous hero Alfred does not appear at all until the second Act and his imperilled betrothed - Alvina - is the only significant solo female role in the work. Dvorák gives the bulk of the duets to Harald and Alvina, The greatest weakness is the sense of dramatic stasis - the work feels more like a series of tableaux - indeed more than once the work reminded me of cantatas such as Elgar's King Olaf or Caractacus rather than opera proper. That said, this is work in progress so it seems unduly harsh - as indeed Dvorák was himself on the work - to consign it to the waste-bin of history.
Which is where this important and valuable world premiere recording comes in. The good news is that it is really very good. The performance was given as part of the International Dvorák Festival in Prague as recently as September 2014. There seem to have been two performances on consecutive days and these discs are the result. The absence of any applause between Acts or at the end of the Overture implies that some rehearsal/patching sessions were involved as well. Very occasionally there is an audible audience cough but nothing to seriously disrupt the performance. Applause is left in at the very end of the work which seems slightly anachronistic. Further good news in that the Arco Diva production team have caught the performers in extremely good sound in the Dvorák Hall of the Rudolfinum. The balance between orchestra, chorus and soloists is very good. Although essentially a static concert performance the voices have been well separated. Certainly the brass particularly of the Prague Radio Symphony Orchestra have been especially well caught; likewise the wind are given an appealing bloom. No surprise, given the bardic nature of several scenes, Dvorák wrote a prominent harp part which is pleasingly audible throughout. As is the Czech Philharmonic Choir Brno. If one was being picky you would have to say that they sound a fraction small to represent a hoard of ravening Vikings but what they lack in number is made up for by a characteristically fine focused and well-balanced tone. There are occasions when the upper strings struggle for absolute unanimity with Dvorák's tricky writing but again nothing to disappoint overly.
Conductor Heiko Mathias Förster paces the work very well. The use of predominantly German-speaking solo singers ensures idiomatic pronunciation of the text too. The only relatively familiar part of the work is the Overture. Dvorák rescued it from oblivion, revised it and renamed it as the Tragic Overture although he never heard that performed either and it was ultimately published as an Op. Posth. In this form it has been recorded on Marco Polo with Libor Pešek conducting the Slovak Philharmonic Orchestra. It is not absolutely clear if the revised Tragic Overture and the original operatic version are essentially identical. Assuming they are, Pešek takes a full two minutes off Förster's interpretation which is probably to the benefit of the work. The Slovak orchestra's playing is just that little bit more incisive too - both of the opening slashing chords played with absolute precision whereas the Prague orchestra live suffer from fractional lack of ensemble. After a lusty opening chorus there are a series of scenes in which the principal Danish protagonists are introduced. Especially impressive is the ringing tenor of Ferdinand von Bothmer as Harald - the invading prince. Dvorák's writing for this tenor role and that of Alvina is both extended and demanding. Petra Froese as Alvina is more tested by the writing and does not sound altogether comfortable. Indeed during the complexities of the Act II finale it sounds as though she is struggling to maintain her pitching in the thick textures. Conversely the baritone of Felix Rumpf singing the eponymous Alfred is very good indeed - youthful and virile with a very attractive voice. He makes a good foil for von Bothmer.
Another impressive aspect of the work is Dvorák's handling of the big set-pieces. Act I closes with Alvina spurning Harald's advances with the chorus in full-flight singing "Now new turmoil awaits us, we are ready to fight". The dramatic highpoint of the entire work is the end of Act II. In true 'rescue opera' mode Alfred has secretly entered Harald's stronghold disguised as a Minstrel to rescue the imprisoned Alvina. Before doing so he sings a ballad: "Man can stand a lot before the final restraint breaks, then he must risk everything, Thunder and hell will not stop him. Therefore tremble, you Danes! Bravely will the Briton stand." Not the least attention-seeking way of avoiding capture but in best operatic tradition with a single bound he is free, sweeping Alvina away to freedom and leaving confusion in his wake. Once the conventions of such scenes are accepted it makes for an exciting and actually rather impressive sequence. Dvorák had already written his first two symphonies before he essayed this opera so it should not come as a total surprise that his handling of the orchestral parts if not always refined is certainly confident.
It is not just the large ensembles that impress - Alfred makes his delayed entrance in Act II scene 1 with an extended soliloquy where he ponders the recent battle against the Danes that he has lost. This is an overtly Wagnerian passage but still an impressive one. Once again Förster proves himself masterly at pacing the scene so that it progresses from reflection to determination and ultimately to action when Alfred's loyal servant Sieward - sung by the ever-excellent bass Peter Mikuláš - enters to tell him of Alvina's capture and Alfred vows revenge. Having rescued Alvina at the end of Act II she rather carelessly manages to get herself captured again early in Act III. If nothing else this allows for more ardent wooing from Harald and equally vehement rejection by Alvina. In a separate, and again rather Wagnerian scene, Alfred and his army pray for victory in the coming battle. During the ensuing fight, Alfred defeats the Danes and Harald is captured. Alfred offers mercy but Harald chooses to die by his own hand. The opera ends with Alfred and Alvina reunited and the obligatory general rejoicing. By some degree this is the least impressive end of an act in the work.
Even allowing for that relative weakness, I think it is important to reiterate that this is a wholly enjoyable work. No, it is not a lost masterpiece; Dvorák would go onto greater things, but at the same time it is far from being the total failure the text books would tell you it is. I cannot imagine there being many other complete recordings coming along any time soon to challenge this one which makes this set's overall quality all the more valuable. The set does not come with a printed libretto but rather unusually it is embedded on both CDs as a pdf file. This is easy to save to a computer and is clearly printed in the original German with Czech and English translations. Having any libretto is better than none although personally I would prefer a traditional printed booklet. The liner is in Czech and English and includes a useful essay, opera synopsis and historical background as well as the usual artist's biographies and some pictures from the concerts. One entertaining typo says: "... the overture was performed under the title Dramatic (or Tragic) after Dvorák's death in 1905 and 1912 respectively." He wasn't dead, he was just sleeping - no that's King Arthur not Alfred (or Dvorák).
Czech opera, apart from The Bartered Bride, Rusalka and the major works by Janá?ek, struggles for any kind of toehold in the international repertoire. That being the case it is hard to imagine Alfred being preferred for revival before other finer works. However for those interested in Dvorák's development as a composer this is both fascinating and vital in appreciating his genius - it is important to remember that this was by far the most substantial composition Dvorák had attempted at the date of its composition. Taking that fact into account the successes of the work far outweigh the shortcomings. Exactly the same can be said of this performance - the minor flaws of execution that come with a live concert count for little compared to the confident, committed and dramatic sweep of the performance. A set all admirers of the composer should hear.
- Nick Barnard, MusicWeb International
Nielsen, C.: Maskarade (Masquerade)
Jommelli: L'uccellatrice / Moretto, Galli, Grassi, Et Al
Rossini: Robert Bruce / Arrivabeni, Tamar, Rivenq, Et Al
Donizetti: Anna Bolena
MASSENET: Roma
VENICE, NEW YEAR'S CONCERT 200
BIZET, G.: Don Procopio [Opera]
Bellini: La Sonnambula / Benini, Siragusa, Gutierrez, Colecchia [blu-ray]
BELLINI La sonnambula • Maurizio Benini, cond; Eglise Gutiérrez (Amina); Antonio Siragusa (Elvino); Simone Alaimo (Count Rodolfo); Sandra Pastrana (Lisa); Gabriella Colecchia (Teresa); Gabriele Nani (Alessio); Teatro Lirico di Cagliari O & Ch • DYNAMIC 55616 (Blu-ray: 141:00) Live: Cagliari 2008
For those of you who may hold the opinion that Vincenzo Bellini was rather a minor composer, you need to see and hear this opera, La Sonnambula (The Sleepwalker), particularly the last 15 minutes or so. The music transcends the heavens, it surpasses anything written by Rossini, Donizetti, or even Verdi. Okay, I guess my enthusiasm is showing a bit, but I truly love this music, however it stacks up in the pantheon of consummate 19th-century Italian composers. The story is simple. The betrothed young village girl, Amina, is discovered in the bed of the local Count in his room at the village inn, he returning to his native environs for the first time in many years. Everyone is shocked, horrified, including the prospective groom, Elvino. Lisa, the young mistress of the inn, also smitten with Elvino, takes advantage to whisk the tenor hero away from his now disgraced intended. It turns out Amina sleepwalks, which the townsfolk and Elvino eventually discover, and after a ravishing double aria for the leading lady in the finale of act 2, all is set well again. The simple tale is charming and if you enjoy bel canto, it doesn’t get any better than this.
I was pleased to get this disc for review because I have been hearing the praises sung for young Cuban American coloratura Eglise Gutiérrez for a few years now, and have not had much opportunity to see or hear her. (She was the fairy godmother in Massenet’s Cendrillon, which I enjoyed, but that opera is hardly prime bel canto land.) I am here to report Gutiérrez is the real deal. Vocally she harkens back to the days of the true Bellini divas, to Giuditta Pasta and Maria Malibran. The young singer’s top range is incredible and solidly in place, everything is precisely on key, sung easily and cleanly. Vocal agility is excellent: Gutiérrez has not the slightest problem with Bellini’s pyrotechnics and she ornaments tastefully and often, like the best of bel canto songbirds. If her acting and stage presence are at times rather ordinary in this 2006 rendering, we should remember that La Sonnambula does not require the histrionics of a Tosca. The young soprano’s portrayal is very charming here, certainly a plus for the production.
Sets are kept simple and traditional, with rustic pastoral settings evoked by a grassy forestage and colorful painted backdrops. It is lovely to watch and far outshines its more famous Metropolitan Opera counterpart (to be seen again this April with Diana Damrau). The costumes, if anything, seem a bit too lavish and colorful for peasant wear, but sumptuous to the eye; I am not complaining. Staging is strictly traditional, as this little charmer of an opera almost necessarily requires. The visual realm is almost completely in service to the music here, and when La Sonnambula is performed in this fashion cannot fail to please even the most jaded opera goers.
Warning: now comes the caveat! Unfortunately, the tenor Elvino is disappointing. Antonio Siragusa sings well and with excellent pitch control, but has an annoying nasal vocal tone, especially when he pushes the voice, that quite spoils his part in the proceedings. It is something you can get used to when he sings alone, but next to the ravishing voice of Gutiérrez and the other fine voices on this set in duets and ensembles, it is continually noticeable and jarring. The Count Rodolfo is sung by veteran Simone Alaimo, who still brings plenty of rich baritone beauty to the role and just the right touch of innocent paternal concern for the beleaguered Amina. Another standout vocally is young Sandra Pastrana as Lisa, who also handles Bellini’s fioratura with delightful expertise and is a big asset to this production. Smaller roles are likewise filled with quite good singers, and the orchestra from the Teatro Lirico Cagliari gives us an impressive rendition of Bellini’s wonderful score. The chorus, a particularly integral part of La Sonnambula, also turns in a first-class performance. It really seems a shame to me that Gutiérrez could not have been paired with a tenor who could at least have gotten out of her way here, let alone the hopeless wish for a Juan Diego Flórez or Lawrence Brownlee in the role. If that had happened this would be a La Sonnambula for the ages; as it is, it’s still very good.
As is to be expected these days, the Dynamic Blu-ray is quite sharply detailed and in exceptionally vivid colors, with state of the art audio formats providing excellent sound. The only current Blu-ray competitor is a recent release to be found on the C Major label. I have not seen it, but soprano Jessica Pratt is also a rising young coloratura star and from what I have heard on YouTube, is very, very good as Amina. The tenor is also promising. Also worth your attention is the VAI DVD issue with Anna Moffo from 1956. Moffo doesn’t have a clue about bel canto style but her young voice is ravishing, the production charming, and she is very lovely to watch, even before her famous nose job. Check out what all the furor was about! The Mary Zimmerman-directed production from the Met has a great cast, but archly ridicules the original story while failing to make much sense itself. As for this disc, it could have been a world beater, but if you can get used to the nasal tenor, it is still very enjoyable. Recommended.
FANFARE: Bill White
