Opus Arte

Britten: The Rape of Lucretia / Hussain, Rice, Clayton, London Philharmonic [Blu-ray]

Opus Arte

~~$39.99~~ $29.99

August 26, 2016

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

Also available on standard DVD

Seventy years after its Glyndebourne world premiere, Benjamin Britten's first chamber opera is welcomed home with "a performance of enthralling emotional power and physical beauty" gifted with "piercingly intelligent, immaculately realized staging and superb singing, acting an playing" led by "Fiona Shaw's supremely nuanced direction" and underpinned by "febrile playing" from members of the London Philharmonic Orchestra (The Telegraph, five stars). The production eloquently and tastefully tackles the difficult subject, which is lent emotional weight by "Christine Rice's grandly sung Lucretia, noble in tone yet tragically vunerable", along with baritone Duncan Rock's "forthright" Tarquinius and the "smooth bass" of Matthew Rose as the caring Collantinus (The Guardian, five stars).

Video Format: 1080p HD
Sound Formats: LPCM 2.0, 5.1 DTS-HD Master Audio
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Region Code: 0 (All Regions)
Running Time: 114 mins (Opera), 17 mins (Extras)

Britten: The Rape Of Lucretia / Ainsley, Boylan, Bayley, Melrose, Maltman [blu-ray]

Opus Arte

~~$45.99~~ $34.99

January 28, 2014

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
THE RAPE OF LUCRETIA
(Blu-ray Disc Version)

Lucretia – Sarah Connolly
Tarquinius – Christopher Maltman
Bianca – Catherine Wyn-Rogers
Lucia – Mary Nelson
Junius – Leigh Melrose
Collatinus – Clive Bayley
Female Chorus – Orla Boylan
Male Chorus – John Mark Ainsley

English National Opera Orchestra
Paul Daniel, conductor

David McVicar, stage director

Recorded live at the Aldeburgh Festival, The Maltings, Snape, 2001

Bonus:
- Cast gallery

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles: English, French, German, Japanese, Korean
Running time: 120 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

R E V I E W: 3761210.az_BRITTEN_Rape_Lucretia_Paul.html
BRITTEN The Rape of Lucretia • Paul Daniel, cond; Sarah Connolly (Lucretia); Christopher Maltman (Tarquinius); John Mark Ainsley (Male Chorus); Orla Boylan (Female Chorus); Clive Bayley (Collatinus); Leigh Melrose (Junius); Catherine Wyn-Rogers (Bianca); Mary Nelson (Lucia); O of the English Natl Op • OPUS ARTE 7135 (Blu-ray: 120:00) Live: Aldeburgh 6/2001

Premiered at Glyndebourne in July of 1946, The Rape of Lucretia was Britten’s first stage work after Peter Grimes, and the first he called a “chamber opera.” It was composed for just eight singers and a chamber ensemble of 12 instrumentalists, but a good performance of Lucretia packs at least as much of an emotional wallop as Peter Grimes or Billy Budd, and this performance is indeed a good one. A mood of dread and tense expectation is established in the opening scene for the Roman generals—Collatinus, Junius, and the depraved Tarquinius—that hardly lets up for the entire work. Four of the singes are truly top-notch: John Mark Ainsley and Orla Boylan as the Male and Female Chorus, Sarah Connolly in the title role, and Christopher Maltman (officially a “Barihunk,” who gets to take his shirt off for the rape scene) portraying Tarquinius. The other singers also cover their roles quite effectively. For example, the peaceful oasis in act I, scene 2, where the servants Bianca and Lucia wordlessly accompany the Female Chorus, is especially lovely.

As is frequently the case for this artist, stage director David McVicar questions, clarifies, and reconsiders. In a brief “Extra Feature,” McVicar explains that he actively rebelled against Britten’s specific instructions that the Male and Female Chorus should comment on the action, but not participate in it. Here, the two interact on stage with the other six singers, which makes the production considerably more theatrical and much less stylized. One reason, McVicar offers, is that Lucretia’s relationship with the Female Chorus can counter the typical “objectification” of the character—we can more easily understand her as something other than a sexual target. Lucretia’s costume is almost frumpish; she’s no fancier in her dress than her servants. She sports a plain, short hairstyle and wears very little jewelry. This wife of a powerful Roman general is certainly no temptress. This effort to de-glamorize the character may further confuse the already confused matter as to why Lucretia feels any sense of blame for her violation, why she won’t accept her husband’s absolution and kills herself. McVicar doesn’t seem to have much trouble with the opera’s “Christian” epilog, which was added (perhaps, it’s been said, at the urging of Peter Pears) to soften the harsh tragedy of Lucretia’s death by invoking the suffering and sacrifice of Christ. The director reminds us that the work was introduced just following World War II, when the world was attempting to come to grips with the senseless horror of the Holocaust. But a listener certainly won’t feel warm and fuzzy after the final blackout: This production maintains plenty of the moral ambiguity inherent to the score and libretto.

In keeping with the modest musical forces employed, Yannis Thavoris’s set and costume design is simple, attempting no profound commentary of its own. The recorded sound is good, with excellent detail to reveal Britten’s imaginative use of the small orchestra. Subtitle choices are English, French, German, Japanese, and Korean.

FANFARE: Andrew Quint

Britten: Death In Venice / Gardner, Graham-hall, Shore, Mead, Zaldivar

Opus Arte

~~$34.99~~ $32.99

March 25, 2014

BRITTEN Death in Venice • Edward Gardner, cond; John Graham-Hall (Aschenbach); Andrew Shore (Traveler, Elderly Fop, Old Gondolier, Hotel Manager, Hotel Barber, Leader of Players, Voice of Dionysus); Tim Mead (Voice of Apollo); English Natl Op O & Ch • OPUS ARTE 1130 (DVD: 153:00) Live: London 6/18, 21, 24/2013

Benjamin Britten’s last opera, Death in Venice, has never really caught on, except perhaps in England itself. It has appeared twice at the New York Met, but the last appearance was some 20 years ago. I don’t believe it ever sold out the house. Based on a rather pretentious novella by Thomas Mann, the story seemingly does not adapt well to the operatic stage. The main conflict is an internal one for the aged main character, Gustav von Aschenbach, between powerful homoerotic lust for a young boy and the desperate desire to maintain his dignity and moral rectitude. Scene changes are so numerous the opera requires 17 short tableaus, a stage director’s nightmare. Britten’s score is also rather quirky and austere as befits the story, and lacks much melody. There are really only three singing roles, although the chorus is quite busy in several of the tableaus. Most of the heavy lifting (or singing) is done by the old man and a deus ex machina who appears in several roles and seems to be propelling Aschenbach relentlessly to his fate (the title perhaps might reveal a clue as to that). Still in all, it is quite an engrossing drama to see once, and this English National Opera (ENO) production provides quite a good representation of it.

Accolades should go to stage director Deborah Warner, set designer Tom Pye, and costume designer Chloe Obolensky for the rapid, efficient scene changes and the eye-catching look of the staging. Most of the action occurs in and around Venice: on the beach, in the hotel, and in the city itself. The evocative perception of these settings is conveyed cleverly yet opulently with only the judicious use of a few props and curtains. Aschenbach’s erotic interest, the young boy Tadzio, and his chums on the beach are portrayed by dancers, so that Britten has ample opportunity to employ the orchestra without bothering the singers. Aschenbach surreptitiously follows the boy’s Polish family around: the mother with her parasol, two daughters, the boy, and a governess, all mute roles. They reminded me of a family of ducks parading constantly back and forth across the stage. If one’s attention sometimes flags, it is due more to the story itself than ENO’s creative staging.

None of the singers is vocally challenged by Britten’s score, though perhaps taxed for stamina, so consummate actors are the order of the day. The difficult role of Aschenbach, with all his internal struggles, is rendered powerfully here by John Graham-Hall. If Graham-Hall is not always completely successful in communicating the heat of his obsessive passion for the boy (they never talk) or his internal agonizing, it is at least partly due to what he is given to sing. Although Britten always claimed his declamation was based on natural inflections of speech, much of it doesn’t sound very natural, at least to these non-Brit ears. The multiple roles of the rather enigmatic propeller of Aschenbach’s fate are a bit reminiscent of the multiple, but singularly sung, villains in Tales of Hoffman. The role(s) is taken here by baritone Andrew Shore. Shore sings well and seems just creepy enough to give the story the proper feel of existential angst and ambiguity it requires. The third major singing role is that of the Voice of Apollo, the personification of Aschenbach’s rational and moral side, opposed to Shore’s Dionysus of licentious appetite. Sung here quite well by countertenor Tim Mead in one of the opera’s few arioso passages, the rather trite and overused convention of arguing inner voices at least retains some interest. As with many modern operas, Britten gives the orchestra a major role, and the ENO forces under Edward Gardner respond admirably (as do the choristers). Special mention also needs to be made of young dancer Sam Zaldivar, who portrays the boy Tadzio seductively, but with an athletic grace of movement. I watched with English subtitles, but they certainly weren’t necessary, diction is very clear and Britten never overpowers the singing with dense orchestration. Subtitles are also available in French, German, and Korean.

For a rather obscure opera, Death in Venice seems to have been served well on video. First came a 1981 Tony Palmer film that was supposed to give Britten’s life companion, tenor Peter Pears, his chance to record the role. In the event, Pears was invalided by a stroke and was replaced, apparently most admirably, by Robert Gard. Baritone John Shirley-Quirk is also mentioned as being very fine in the role of the Traveler, et al. There is also a 1990 Glyndebourne production, and a 2008 production from La Fenice in Venice itself, both of which received good reviews and both still available. I must confess I have seen none of these competitors. The La Fenice set is available in high definition Blu-ray, just as this Opus Arte disc. I may only have the inclination or opportunity to see Death in Venice once, and this handsome and well-performed ENO production certainly proves a fine way to do so. Recommended.

FANFARE: Bill White

Britten: Billy Budd / Elder, Ainsley, Ens, Paterson, Imbrailo [Blu-ray]

Opus Arte

$42.99

June 28, 2011

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

Also available on standard DVD

3522630.az_BRITTEN_Billy_Budd_Mark.html

Elsewhere in this issue I review—and excoriate—a Regietheater butchery of Poulenc’s Dialogues des Carmélites . Here we have its polar opposite, an absolutely stupendous performance in which— mirabile dictu! —the production team dedicates itself to a scrupulously accurate and imaginatively vivid realization of the creators’ intentions. This is the first opera production by well-known British stage director Michael Grandage, who works here with an established team of collaborators: stage designer Christopher Oram (who has the deepest bass speaking voice I’ve ever heard; I have a basso profundo , and he makes me sound like a baritone!), lighting designer Paule Constable, and movement director Tom Roden. The results are nothing short of spectacular, and they deserve as much commendation as the singers for a brilliantly executed production.

Normally the interviews that accompany many opera DVDs are insubstantial fluff, but not here. In two excellent supplementary features, Introducing Billy Budd and Designs on Billy Budd , Grandage, Oram, and Constable articulate their conceptions with exceptional grace, and it is worth quoting them at some length.

Grandage: “From a director’s point of view, the starting point of any piece of work is trying to get back inside the creator’s head and what they imagined. I think that’s one of the most exciting jobs of an interpretive artist. … And so it’s always been of interest to me to use their starting point as my starting point. … I’m not the kind of director who enjoys immediately looking at a time and place set by the writer and then going ‘Let’s not do that.’ It gives me more pleasure to try and interpret something that was clear for them, when they first set about writing it, and trying to bring that clarity to a new production.”

Oram: “At the end of the day, the idea is to communicate ideas and to serve one person, which is the writer. I want to do him justice by presenting his works in the best way possible.”

Constable: “I’m just telling the same story the opera is telling. … I don’t want them [the audience] to notice the lighting. I just want them to be part of something that tells the story as well as it can.”

What is truly striking about all this is not just the clarity, concision, and intelligence with which this common viewpoint is stated, but rather the humility it expresses. In contrast to the pernicious egotism of Regietheater , wherein the director poses as a Nietzschean Übermensch who proclaims to the benighted hoi polloi his annihilation of all moral laws and social conventions, it offers the concept of service to the original artistic creator, rather than subjugation of him. At the end of the day, Regietheater is utterly futile because it is absolutely barren, its hopelessly self-referential gestures comprising a pseudo-intellectual onanism. By contrast, the traditional period productions the Regietheater practitioner scorns are those which, by virtue of fidelity to original time and place, paradoxically achieve temporal transcendence and become universal in their connotations. Consequently, they are infinitely more creative—and thus truly artistic—than the sterile and puerile gimmickry of directors whose pretensions to “originality” consist of spewing forth hackneyed clichés of contemporary pop cultural phenomena and political artifacts du jour.

In this particular case, the production team constructed a stage setting consisting of the interior of an 18th-century frigate, with the deck lines following the architecture of the floor and balconies of the opera house so that the audience feels itself to actually be inside the ship and immediately participating in the action. For the scenes that take place in cabins or below deck, a cross-hatched framework is lowered over the stage that, in conjunction with deft alteration of the lighting (including a remarkably eerie blue twilight), creates a claustrophobic atmosphere that perfectly underlines and heightens the dramatic tension culminating in Billy’s doom. The costumes are in harmony with the set, and the acting by all concerned is natural and unaffected, with crowd scenes of the entire ship’s crew exceptionally well conceived and managed. The booklet notes remark that “Unlike Melville, Grandage doesn’t grandstand the homoeroticism”; that would seem to be a remark more pertinent to co-librettist E. M. Forster than Melville, but as far as the staging is concerned it is all to the good.

With one partial exception, the singing is on as high a plane as the staging. John Mark Ainsley has long been one of England’s most accomplished tenors, and here as Captain Vere he gives what may be the crowning performance of his career, inhabiting the role with vocal and physical nuance as well as complete security. Ideally, one might wish for the greater sweetness of tone he possessed in his youth, but the now slightly more strained timbre of his upper register serves here to accentuate the inner tensions of a fundamentally good man whose great flaw is an overly punctilious adherence to regulations that he allows to thwart his nobler impulses at a crucial moment. As Billy Budd, Jacques Imbrailo is the finest exponent of the role since Theodore Uppman in the world premiere; he not only has the requisite bright, rock-steady baritone with an open top, but also the looks, athleticism, and air of good-hearted, youthful innocence that no one between him and Uppman has fully accomplished on recordings. Interestingly, in his on-camera interview Imbrailo evinces a slight stammer—noticeably on words beginning with a hard “th” sound such as “the”—and one suspects that this provided him with a unique degree of insight into and empathy with the character of Billy that makes his personification so radiant.

The only serious, albeit limited, reservation I have concerns Phillip Ens as Claggart. Interpretively he is superb, the perfect embodiment of pure malevolence concealed behind the mask of duty; but too often, particularly in his middle range, his voice becomes unfocused and diffuse, with something of a wobble. However, the same thing is true of virtually every other bass who previously has recorded this part (Friedrich Dahlberg, Michael Langdon, Eric Halfvarson, and John Tomlinson immediately come to mind) and Ens is actually less flawed in this regard than most of them. It’s a crying shame that Robert Lloyd was never called upon to commit the part to disc; fortunately Matthew Rose, an excellent Mr. Flint here, has just recorded Claggart for a superlative new set on Virgin Classics with the all-star lineup of Ian Bostridge, Nathan Gunn, and conductor Daniel Harding, that now claims pride of place as the best-sung Billy Budd in any medium. As Dansker, Jeremy White also has a sometimes diffuse vocal emission, but the timbre itself is so warm and genial that one forgives the fault and enjoys the otherwise ideal characterization. All of the other secondary characters—Iain Paterson as Mr. Redburn, Matthew Rose as Mr. Flint, Darren Jeffery as Lieutenant Ratcliffe, Ben Johnson as the Novice, Colin Judson as Squeak, Alasdair Elliot as Red Whiskers—are uniformly excellent, with Rose and Johnson being particularly impressive. While Sir Mark Elder is not the most incisive conductor of the score on disc, he has sturdy musical sea legs and sure-footedly navigates all the maritime depths of the score—here, the revised two-act version. The recorded sound quality is stupendous, particularly the deep, thunderous, rolling bass that rumbles through the theater without the slightest hint of dryness or muddiness.

Of the three DVD versions of Billy Budd available, this is easily the one of choice. It is superior in both film quality and the singing of the lead roles to the historic 1966 telecast with Peter Pears, Peter Glossop, Michael Langdon, and Charles Mackerras, recently released on Decca and reviewed by Paul Ingram in Fanfare 32:2, while both are vastly preferable to the abstractly staged and dramatically inert English National Opera production under David Atherton on Kultur despite the latter’s starry vocal cast of Philip Langridge, Thomas Allen, and Richard van Allen. The only regret I have is that this came in sixth place in the competition for a slot on my 2011 Want List; it is fully equal in worth to the five finalists I chose instead, and I cannot urge you strongly enough to make this a part of your music library. It is an instant classic of opera on film, and while in the future it may be equaled, I do not see how it will ever be surpassed.

FANFARE: James A. Altena

Benjamin Britten
BILLY BUDD
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Captain Vere – John Mark Ainsley
Billy Budd – Jacques Imbrailo
Claggart – Phillip Ens
Mr. Redburn – Iain Paterson
Mr. Flint – Matthew Rose
Lieutenant Ratcliffe – Darren Jeffery
Red Whiskers – Alasdair Elliott
Donald – John Moore
Dansker – Jeremy White
Novice – Ben Johnson
Squeak – Colin Judson
Bosun – Richard Mosley-Evans

The Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Mark Elder, conductor
Michael Grandage, stage director
Bonus:
- Introducing Billy Budd
- Designs on Billy Budd

Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM Stereo 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish
Running time: 200 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (Blu-ray)

Bournonville: Napoli / Bond, Royal Danish Ballet

Opus Arte

~~$34.99~~ $32.99

October 30, 2015

Napoli, a conernstone of the Royal Danish Ballet, was created in 1842 by choreographer and ballet master, August Bournonville. | This timeless tale is set in Naples and focues on Gennaro, a young fisherman, on his quest to rescue Teresina, his beloved, who has supposedly drowned at sea. | For this production, the Company has chosen to set the scene in the 1950s, taking inspriation from Federico Fellini's early films. | Maja Ravn has created elaborate sets and constumes and Nikolaj Hübbe and Sorella Englund bring striking new choreography to Bournonville's classic routines. | An entirely new musical score has been created for Act II just for this production! | Leading this cast is Alban Lendorf as Gennaro and Alexandra Lo Sardo as Teresina. | Graham Bond conducts this fabulous ballet, recorded live in 2014 at the Royal Danish Ballet, Copenhagen.

August Bournonville
NAPOLI

Gennaro - Alban Lendorf
Teresina - Alexandra Lo Sardo
Golfo - Benjamin Buza
Veronica - Lis Jeppesen
Giovanina - Alba Nadal
Flora - Mette Bødtcher
Peppo - Jean-Lucien Massot
Giacomo - Fernando Mora
Pascarillo - Poul Erik Hesselkilde
Pilgrim - Josephine Berggreen

Royal Danish Ballet
Royal Danish Orchestra (Det Kongelige Kapel)
Graham Bond, conductor

Sorella Englund and Nikolaj Hübbe, choreographers (after August Bournonville)
Maja Ravn, set and costume designer
Mikki Kunttu, lighting designer

Music:
Edvard Helsted
Holger Simon Paulli
Hans Christian Lumbye
Louise Alenius

Recorded live at the Royal Danish Ballet, Copenhagen, February 2014

Picture format: NTSC 16:9 anamorphic
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Running time: 105 mins
No. of DVDs: 1 (DVD 9)

Bizet: Carmen / Jordan, Von Otter, Glyndebourne Festival

Opus Arte

~~$23.99~~ $17.99

October 29, 2013

Georges Bizet
CARMEN

Moralès – Hans Voschezang
Micaëla – Lisa Milne
Don José – Marcus Haddock
Zuniga – Jonathan Best
Carmen – Anne Sofie von Otter
Frasquita – Marty Hegarty
Mercédès – Christine Rice
Lillas Pastia – Anthony Wise
Escamillo – Laurent Naouri
Le Dancaïre – Quentin Hayes
Le Remendado – Colin Judson
Le Guide – Franck Lopez

Stoke Brunswick School Children’s Chorus
(chorus master: East Grinstead)
Glyndebourne Chorus
(chorus master: Tecwyn Evans)
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Philippe Jordan, conductor

David McVicar, stage director
Michael Vale, set designer
Sue Blane, costume designer
Paule Constable, lighting designer
Andrew George, choreographer
Nicholas Hall, fight director

Recorded live at the Glyndebourne Opera House, Lewes, Sussex, 17 August 2002

Bonus:
- Illustrated synopsis
- Cast gallery
- Costume design
- How to fight on stage
- Choreographing Carmen
- The music of Carmen
- The Gardens of Glyndebourne

Picture format: NTSC 16:9
Sound format: LPCM Stereo / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Menu language: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish
Running time: 220 mins
No. of DVDs: 2

R E V I E W:

Carmen can justifiably lay claim to be the world’s most popular opera. As director David McVicar points out in one of the revealing documentary extras on this excellent BBC release, it ‘is probably the first musical, with hit tune after hit tune’. He’s right, but as his own thought-provoking production makes amply clear, it is so much more than that, having deep psychological layers that he teases out very effectively. He has (rightly in my opinion) opted for a colourful, naturalistic production, with costumes and sets all conveying the correct period and general feel; no stylised or ‘concept’ nonsense to distract the viewer. This leaves him clear to get the cast to really act and get under the skin of the complex characters that inhabit the work. This makes for a riveting dramatic experience, with the many famous melodies and set pieces all in proper context. There is an erotic charge running through many of the exchanges of the principals, and McVicar sees sexual frustration as the key to many of these characters’ problems. This may have led to raised eyebrows at Glyndebourne, but it does make a lot of sense, given the ultimate events of the tragedy. He also opts to include the original spoken dialogue rather than the spurious recitatives, another aspect that works remarkably well. It fleshes the story out properly instead of holding up the action until the next big tune, as one might suspect it would.

So full marks for not messing with Bizet’s general instructions too much. Praise must also be heaped on the London Philharmonic, who respond magnificently to the flamboyant young maestro, Philippe Jordan (any relation to Armin, I wonder?). His energy and physical intensity, which is visibly there for all to see in the hectic, brilliant prelude (where he resembles Escamillo!), communicates through to the orchestra at every turn, and Bizet’s wonderful scoring is heard in all its glory. One could cite numerous examples, but hear particularly the characterful wind solos of the Act 2 Entr’acte, or the beautifully weighted brass chords that punctuate the famous ‘Toreador Song’, helping one to appreciate the harmony afresh. It really is a superb aural-only experience, the Gallic lightness making one understand why Richard Strauss once advised young composers learning orchestration to study Bizet’s scores, not Wagner’s.

So the reported controversy surrounding this production appears to be wholly related to the central casting. Here we have one of the world’s finest mezzos seemingly cast against type. Anne Sofie von Otter herself admits that she may not be everyone’s idea of the ideal Carmen – "too tall, Nordic and cool", as she puts it, and remembering great Carmens of the past (Berganza, de los Angeles, Price, Migenes etc.) she does have a point. All I can say is that she seemed to me wholly convincing, sporting a blazing auburn wig to help with the gypsy look (plus Sue Blane’s magnificent costumes) and acting and singing with such conviction that criticism was all but silenced. McVicar and von Otter have obviously worked on other aspects of the character, and rather than the smouldering wildcat, we get a more mature portrayal of a woman who can, as the director has it "eat men whole – and laugh while she’s doing it". She is a woman desperately seeking love, a free spirit that simply needs the right partner. This really does make the final tragedy all the more poignant, because we really believe that she has at last found the right person in Escamillo, but, as the cards tell her, fate has something else in store for her. The famous routines are all superbly choreographed, and she raises a laugh from the audience as she manages the second verse of her ‘Seguidilla’ while lighting a cigar, quite a feat!

Her Don José, American tenor Marcus Haddock, also gives a multi-layered portrayal, and his character probably develops more than any other. He constantly reminds us that this is a man hiding many demons, not least the fact that he killed a man in a duel, so we begin to realise early on what he is capable of. There is also the shadow of his mother, who we learn wanted him to become a priest (all this is in the invaluable spoken dialogue), so he is an unstable individual. His beautifully sung ‘Flower Song’ is not just a showstopper, but tinged with all the psychological baggage of a haunted man. The final confrontation with Carmen is riveting, with the fatal stabbing ghastly but not in the least melodramatic. This is believable verismo.

As Escamillo, Laurent Naouri is also encouraged to act with some subtlety, to enjoy his big moments but give us some character insight. Thus his oft-heard ‘Toreador Song’ is punctuated by glances towards Carmen, who responds with knowing eye contact (obviously the camera close-up helps here), and an immediate chemistry is established. His is less a testosterone-fuelled macho man than a virile counterpart to Carmen herself; one can actually believe they would have made a satisfied couple.

The Micaëlla, Lisa Milne, is a touch matronly for me, but I suppose we have to believe in her as the saintly sister figure, and while I miss some of the fragility of others in this part, she sings beautifully and makes a good contrast to Carmen. All the smaller parts are taken with real relish, and I particularly liked Jonathan Best’s Zuniga. Costumes, as mentioned, are stunning, with the stage for the final act dominated by black and a symbolic blood red. The dancing is a delight, sexy and energetic, and stage designs (by Michael Vale) atmospheric yet practical.

The extras on the double DVD set are worth having. There are revealing interviews with director and principals, as well as substantial individual features on music, costume, choreography and stage fighting. There is an illustrated synopsis, cast gallery and a ten-minute feature on the famous Glyndebourne garden. Having loaded the discs with the extras, the booklet is devoted to a specially commissioned reworking of the Carmen libretto by Jeanette Winterson, entitled ‘The World Beyond’, a moving and worthwhile updating of the basic story.

Whether you want to fork out for two full price discs may depend totally on your idea of the casting of the eponymous heroine. When this was broadcast last year, some of my colleagues thought von Otter so wrong they couldn’t watch it through to the end. While I accept she may not be what is expected visually, I think it is short-sighted to not see the whole package. Carmen does dominate, but there is an awful lot going on around her, and David McVicar has managed quite the most intelligent, believable opera production I’ve seen for some time. This is ensemble directing at its best. With von Otter (and everyone else, for that matter) in absolutely superb voice, accompanied by gloriously inspired orchestral playing, this is a musical and visual feast. Sue Judd’s subtle camera work helps the television experience. The BBC packaging is first rate, making an altogether outstanding record of a thrilling event.

-- Tony Haywood, MusicWeb International
, Reviewing original release, Opus Arte 868

Bizet: Carmen / Jordan, Von Otter, Glyndebourne Festival [Blu-ray]

Opus Arte

~~$39.99~~ $29.99

November 18, 2008

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

David McVicar’s exhilarating production, with Anne Sofie von Otter in the title role, restores the Opera Comique to Bizet’s masterpiece. Philippe Jordan, in his Glyndebourne debut, conducts the London Philharmonic Orchestra, the Glyndebourne Chorus and a cast which includes Marcus Haddock, Laurent Naouri and Lisa Milne.

Moralès: Hans Voschezang
Micaëla: Lisa Milne
Don José: Marcus Haddock
Zuniga: Jonathan Best
Carmen: Anne Sofie von Otter
Frasquita: Mary Hegarty
Mercédès: Christine Rice
Lillas Pastia: Anthony Wise
Escamillo: Laurent Naouri
Le Dancaïre: Quentin Hayes
Le Remendado: Colin Judson
Le Guide: Franck Lopez

The Glyndebourne Chorus
London Philharmonic Orchestra
Conductor: Philippe Jordan
Stage Director: David McVicar

Recorded live at the Glyndebourne Opera House, Sussex, on 17th August 2002.

Plus:
Illustrated synopsis & cast gallery.
Costume design.
Choreographing Carmen.
How to fight on stage.
The Gardens of Glyndebourne.

Reviews:

"Under the shrewd direction of McVicar, Anne Sofie von Otter gave us a gypsy of mercurial temperament, a tease, a dangerous flirt, and a woman intensely conscious of her sexual magnetism and of her public notoriety." -- Daily Telegraph

"Violent, passionate, superbly played… Glyndebourne’s Carmen is simply gripping." -- The Sunday Times

Region code: 0 (all regions)
Picture: 1080i
Sound: 2.0 & 5.1 Dolby True HD
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish

Birtwistle: The Minotaur / Tomlinson, Reuter, Pappano

Opus Arte

$39.99

November 18, 2008

BIRTWISTLE The Minotaur • Antonio Pappano, cond; John Tomlinson ( Minotaur ); Christine Rice ( Ariadne ); Johan Reuter ( Theseus ); Andrew Watts ( Snake Priestess ); Philip Langridge ( Hiereus ); Amanda Echalaz ( Ker ); Royal Op House Covent Garden O & Ch • BBC/OPUS ARTE 1000 (2 DVDs: 140:17) Live: London 4/25,30 & 5/3/2008

& Documentary: Myth is Universal ; illustrated synopsis; cast gallery

This is a brilliantly gripping piece of theater: what else would we expect from the composer/librettist team that gave us the stunning Gawain and the composer who spent so much of his creative life perfecting the incredibly complex but deeply stirring Mask of Orpheus ? To be sure, the work of Harrison Birtwistle, who has written for the lyric stage for over 40 years, is challenging. But since the Mask of Orpheus , one sees a consolidation: a greater focus on the storytelling itself. Gone, at least for now, are the multiple layerings of story lines and variant characters that make the Orpheus story difficult to comprehend fully. Gone even are the more moderate temporal ambiguities of Gawain and the puzzling character potpourri of The Second Mrs. Kong . The presentation of the myth of Ariadne, Theseus, and Asterion, the half-man, half beast in the labyrinth, is told in classic linearity. The impact of the slaughter, rape, and treachery, stylized though the depiction of the first two may be, is visceral and unmitigated by any intellectual distancing.

David Harsent’s libretto, although in language rather archaic and ritualized, is a modern psychological telling of the myth, with the motives of the protagonists much less pure than the classic stories would have countenanced. Ariadne and Theseus distrust each other, lie to each other, and eventually betray each other to achieve their escape from present circumstances. Ironically, of the three major players, only the monster is innocent. When the Minotaur first appears to us as the beast, he is taunted for his brutality and inarticulateness by a sadistic perversion of a Greek chorus. Only after the rape and murder of the first of the Athenian youths do we see the man inside, tortured by his uncontrollable bestiality and violence and wounded by the hatred and fear that surround him. Able to speak—and thereby show his humanity—only when dreaming, he is revealed as a complex and sympathetic character, used by those around him and powerless to save himself. “The beast is vile; the man must go unloved.” The man within the beast dreams of loss, foresees his end, and hopes for forgiveness. It is a brilliant conception, brought to life with great poignancy by veteran bass John Tomlinson, and aided by brilliant costume design that lights the face inside the mask when the man-half is revealed.

Birtwistle’s highly expressive atonal style uses core melodic elements from which he derives, through repetition and variation, all other material. Flashes of recognition provide a sense of unity throughout the work. This, too, has been moderated over time. Expected are the massive layered outbursts of sound that complement the more violent episodes in the story. Less anticipated, though they should have been, are the extended periods of great translucency and emotional subtlety, the superb support of the voices and the use of unusual instruments to heighten emotion—the cimbalom—or to comment upon a character—the alto saxophone for Ariadne’s duplicity. The result is a mesmerizing score. The vocal lines, admitted by some of the principals to be difficult to learn, apparently sit well on the voices, once learned. Certainly, the part of the Minotaur, written specifically for the strengths and limitations of Tomlinson’s current vocal estate, shows the stentorian but expressive bass at his considerable best. Mezzo-soprano Christine Rice, with her soulfully expressive face and opulent voice, is a wonderfully perfidious Ariadne, the main character if measured by time onstage. Theseus is animated by Danish bass-baritone Johan Reuter with a forceful stage presence and a solid voice throughout his sizeable range. Countertenor Andrew Watts is a delightfully fey Snake Priestess and tenor Philip Langridge proves again that there are no small parts for great performers. Among the secondary roles, all of them well sung and acted, special mention needs to be made of soprano Amanda Echalaz’s chilling Ker, the leader of a hideous band of soul-eating harpies. She’s a young spinto, acclaimed in roles like Tosca and Cio-Cio-San, whom I look forward to hearing in more congenial circumstances.

Stephen Langridge’s production, designed by Alison Chitty, is beautiful, and stark in its simplicity. An open stage—with a baleful sun, a wan moon looming in the sky, and illuminated blue lines and a trough of sand representing the sea and beach—provides the exterior area. The labyrinth is represented by a bloodstained interior arena, encircled by the elevated masked chorus, entrapping victims and monster alike. Pappano and his superb orchestra provide luminous support for the singers, performing the work, to quote the composer, “as if it were Verdi.” The video production is just what I prefer for live opera: a judicious balance of long and medium shots to give a clear idea of the interactions and settings, and moderate close-ups during solo sections to satisfy the needs of the smaller screen. The sound is superb and the DVD extras minimal but informative. Unless you know you are allergic to any opera post-Puccini, I recommend this DVD release most emphatically.

FANFARE: Ronald E. Grames
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The Minotaur – John Tomlinson
Theseus – Johan Reuter
Ariadne – Christine Rice
Snake Priestess – Andrew Watts
Hiereus – Philip Langridge
Ker – Amanda Echalaz

Stephen Langridge, stage director
Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden on 25, 30 April and 3 May 2008.

Bonus:
- Documentary: Myth is Universal
- Illustrated synopsis and cast gallery

Picture format: NTSC 16:9 Anamorphic
Sound format: LPCM Stereo / DTS 5.0
Region code: 0 (All Regions)
Menu languages: English, German, French, Spanish, Italian
Subtitles: English, German, French, Spanish, Italian
Running time: 175 mins
No. of DVDs: 2

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