Opus Arte
530 products
Britten: Death In Venice / Gardner, Graham-hall, Shore, Mead, Zaldivar [blu-ray]
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)
Wagner: Die Meistersinger / Jurowski, Finley , Selinger, Miles, Gabler, Jentzsch [blu-ray]
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
Gluck: Iphigenie En Aulide, Iphigenie En Tauride / Minkowski, Gens, Delunsch [blu-ray]
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
Handel: Rinaldo
Monteverdi: L'incoronazione di Poppea
Prokofiev: Romeo And Juliet / Cuthbertson, Bonelli, Royal Ballet [blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
Sergey Prokofiev
ROMEO AND JULIET
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Romeo – Federico Bonelli
Juliet – Lauren Cuthbertson
Mercutio – Alexander Campbell
Tybalt – Bennet Gartside
Benvolio – Dawid Trzensimiech
Paris – Valeri Hristov
Lord Capulet – Christopher Saunders
Lady Capulet – Christina Arestis
Esclasus – Gary Avis
Royal Ballet
Royal Opera House Orchestra
Barry Wordsworth, conductor
Kenneth MacMillan, choreographer
Recorded live at the Royal Opera House, March 2012
Bonus:
- Documentaries on Kenneth MacMillan’s production
- Sharps, Points and Pirouettes – the famous sword fight scene
- Cast gallery
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: LPCM 2.0 / DTS 5.1
Region code: 0 (worldwide)
Subtitles (bonus): French, German, Italian, Spanish, Portuguese, Japanese
Running time: 158 mins (ballet) + 15 mins (bonus)
No. of Discs: 1 (BD50)
Barber: Vanessa / Bell, Montvidas, Verrez, Hrusa, London Philharmonic

Abandoned by her lover Anatol, Vanessa retreats from the world, waiting and hoping with only her mother and her niece Erika for company. But when, 20 years later, Anatol’s handsome young son arrives unexpectedly, he shatters the calm of this shuttered household of women. Past and present love collides, and the aftershocks threaten to destroy them all. Samuel Barber’s Pulitzer Prize-winning first opera boasts one of the 20th century’s most beautiful scores. Poised constantly on the edge of song, Vanessa unfolds in generous swathes of melody, rich in filmic strings and soaring brass, with echoes of Puccini, Berg and Strauss. It climaxes in a final quintet of Mozartean poignancy – one of the great ensembles of the contemporary repertoire.
-----
REVIEW:
Warner’s handsome and perceptive staging of Barber’s Vanessa has probably done more to silence the work’s naysayers than any in recent memory. Thanks to Warner’s perception and motivation this excellent cast really deliver. Shadowy, opulent, effulgent – Barber’s Vanessa is the opera that bridges Hollywood and the Broadway stage.
– Gramophone
J. Strauss Jr.: Die Fledermaus / Armstrong, Allen [Blu-ray]
J. STRAUSS II Die Fledermaus • Vladimir Jurowski, cond; Pamela Armstrong ( Rosalinde ); Thomas Allen ( Eisenstein ); Håkan Hagegård ( Dr. Falke ); Pär Lindskog ( Alfred ); Malena Ernman ( Prince Orlovsky ); Lyubov Petrova ( Adele ); Ragnar Ulfung ( Dr. Blind ); Artur Korn ( Frank ); Udo Samel ( Frosch ); Reneé Schüttengruber ( Ida ); Glyndebourne Ch; London PO • BBC/OPUS ARTE 7004 (Blu-ray Disc: 198:00) Live: Glyndebourne 8/17/2003
& Cast & costume galleries. The Genesis of the Waltz. The Architect Returns. Interviews. Frosch interlude
This pretty-much-perfect production of Strauss’s pretty-much-perfect operetta is an ideal specimen to demonstrate the visual and sonic virtues of the Blu-ray medium. The Glyndebourne staging is a feast to watch: the sets and costumes are lavish, the dancing accomplished. Opus Arte’s 24-bit PCM sound is way better than anything you’ve ever heard on a traditional DVD, both the stereo version and the spacious multichannel that puts the listener in the middle of the appreciative audience who experienced the real thing in Sussex back in August of 2003.
Director Stephen Lawless has moved the setting of Die Fledermaus ahead a few decades to around 1910, the Vienna of Sigmund Freud and Gustav Klimt. (Eisenstein’s dressing gown, in fact, is a facsimile of Klimt’s The Kiss .) This Fledermaus is clearly viewed as a play that happens to have awfully good music, and Lawless and Daniel Dooner have created new dialogue for the production. In the hands of an ensemble of terrific singing actors, the texts never impede the headlong momentum of this comic masterpiece.
What a cast! Pamela Armstrong, as Rosalinde, handles the part vocally quite well but is equally concerned with her character’s development: when she dresses up as someone else, Eisenstein’s wife discovers her “real self” (as the soprano puts it in one of the disc’s “extras”). Thomas Allen notes that the high tessitura of his role was a bit of a challenge—it sure doesn’t sound it—but his comic timing is impeccable and the man can actually dance. As Dr. Falke, Håkan Hagegård gives his character an edge: the practical joke that Eisenstein played on him months before the curtain rises for act I has deeply wounded him, and Falke is serious about getting revenge. Singing Alfred in an appropriately seductive manner is Swedish tenor Pär Lindskog who, like Allen, is obviously quite a versatile artist. You’d never know from this performance that the guy also sings Siegfried and Parsifal.
The kudos go on. Lyubov Petrova’s rendition of Adele’s big second-act aria is a showstopper and Malena Ernman is utterly convincing as the terminally bored and sexually ambiguous Orlovsky. It’s a surprise every time Ernman starts to sing and her voice jumps up an octave or two. The smaller parts—Dr. Blind, Frank, Ida, Frosch—are all covered quite well.
Vladimir Jurowski takes the music very seriously (as, the notes remind us, did Gustav Mahler) and his leadership of the LPO is spirited and knowingly inflected. To accompany the curtain calls, Jurowski conducts a rousing “Radetzky March.” Opus Arte provides subtitles in English, French, German, Spanish, and Dutch. There’s a generous supply of extras, including cast and costume “galleries” and brief featurettes on the history of the waltz and the new (in 1994) opera house at Glyndebourne, as revisited by the architect who designed it. We also get observations on Fledermaus from Armstrong, Allen, Hagegård, Jurowski, and director Lawless and, to close, some shtick, mostly about champagne, by Udo Samel, the actor who has the speaking role of the jailer Frosch.
Yes, this one’s on my Want List.
FANFARE: Andrew Quint
Picture Format: 1080i High Definition, NTSC 16:9
Sound Format: 2.0 / 5.0 PCM Audio
Region Code: 0 (All Regions)
Menu Languages: English
Subtitles: English, French, German, Spanish, Dutch
Running Time: 198 min
Verdi: Rigoletto / Downes, Alvarez, Schafer, Gavanelli
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
D'RIVERA, Paquito / DOMINGUEZ, Chano: Quartier Latin (Teatro
Scarlatti: Dove e amore e gelosia
An Evening With The Royal Ballet & Royal Opera
Cosi Fan Tutte
Janacek: The Cunning Little Vixen
WAGNER, R.: Götterdämmerung (Liceu, 2004) (NTSC)
MENDELSSOHN: Midsummer Night's Dream (A) (Pacific Northwest
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker / Gruzin, Royal Opera House
DETAILS:
Format: NTSC
Language: English
Subtitles: None
Dubbed: None
Aspect Ratio: 1.78:1
Wagner: Lohengrin / Nelsons, Bayreuth Festival Orchestra
Lohengrin is staged by the enfant terrible Hans Neuenfels, and offers a thought-provoking production of brilliant visual clarity. The performance with Klaus Florian Vogt in the title role is staggering and impressive. There is beauty and purity in his voice, but in this role in particular, one truly senses something other-worldly, which fits superlatively both with the work and the production. Conductor Andris Nelsons brings out the best in the festival chorus and orchestra. It is a Lohengrin one does not easily forget and puts Bayreuth back in the vanguard of Wagner interpretation. "Great Wagner performances such as this give the sensation of looking down at the world from a sadly omniscient height... Vogt...gave a dreamlike performance... Dasch... was sweetly impassioned throughout. Petra Lang was a properly searing Ortrud... Andris Nelsons... conducted with blazing intensity." (Alex Ross, The New Yorker) ‘‘A magic moment of music theatre.’’ (Handelsblatt) ‘‘Bayreuth's incomparable chorus really deserves a medal for its performance here.’’ (International Record Review) ‘‘All six solo singers are musically excellent and dramatically persuasive, with Petra Lang's excoriating Ortrud and George Zeppenfeld's grave yet warm-toned King Henry particularly memorable...’’ (Gramophone)
Rossini: Il barbiere di Siviglia / Mazzola, London Philharmonic [Blu-ray]
The ''sheer visual sophistication'' of Annabel Arden's Barbiere serves ''a triumphant celebration of Rossini's musical genius'', featuring de Niese's ''powerfully sung'' Rosina, Burger's ''gale-force'' Figaro and Stayton's ''pure and mellifluous'' Almaviva - a leading trio ''musically and dramatically beyond compare'' (The Independet - 5 stars). Contributing to the ''ensemble precision'', the rest of the cast includes a ''scene-stealing'' Berta in Kelly, a ''suavely unctuous'' Basilio from Stamboglis and Corbelli's Bartolo, ''an object lesson in comic understatement'' (The Guardian). With Enrique Mazzola at the helm of the London Philharmonic Orchestra, ''the score bubbles along on a Puckish current of merry mischief'' (The Telegraph).
Tchaikovsky: The Nutcracker / San Francisco Ballet [Blu-ray]
Also available on standard DVD
Pyotr Il'yich Tchaikovsky
NUTCRACKER
(Blu-ray Disc Version)
Uncle Drosselmeyer – Damian Smith
Clara – Elizabeth Powell
The Nutcracker Prince – Davit Karapetyan
King of the Mice – David Arce
Queen of Snow – Yuan-yuan Tan
King of Snow – Pierre-François Vilanoba
Sugar Plum Fairy – Vanessa Zahorian
San Francisco Ballet
San Francisco Ballet Orchestra
Martin West, conductor
Helgi Tomasson, choreographer
Recorded live at the War Memorial Opera House, San Francisco, California, on 19 and 20 December 2007.
Bonus:
- Illustrated synopsis and cast gallery
- Interviews with Helgi Tomasson, Michael Yeargan and Martin Pakledinaz
- Documentary: 1915 World's Fair
Picture format: 1080i High Definition
Sound format: 2.0 and 5.0 PCM
Region code: 0 (all regions)
Menu languages: English
Subtitles (extras only): German, French, Spanish, Italian
Running time: 133 mins
No. of Discs: 1 (BD 50)
R E V I E W:
TCHAIKOVSKY Nutcracker & • Martin West, cond; Damian Smith ( Drosselmeyer ); Elizabeth Powell ( Clara ); Davit Karapetyan ( Nutcracker ); David Arce ( Mouse King ); Yuan Yuan Tan ( Snow Queen ); Pierre-François Vilanoba ( Snow King ); Vanessa Zahorian ( Sugar Plum Fairy ); Maria Kochetkova ( Grand pas de deux ); San Francisco Ballet O • BBC/OPUS ARTE BD7044D (Blu-ray: 132: 00) Live: San Francisco 12/19–20/2007
& Illustrated synopsis, cast gallery, artist interviews, documentary on 1915 World’s Fair
David L. Kirk gave the DVD release of this production a thorough review in Fanfare 32:5, rightly declaring this to be “a first-class production with brilliant dancing, imaginative special effects, colorful costumes, and attractive scenery,” and numbering it among his three preferred video Nutcrackers . I second that notion.
In order for the San Francisco Ballet to take possession of this ubiquitous classic, choreographer Helgi Tomasson and his superb design team moved the action to San Francisco in 1915, the year the city hosted the World’s Fair. What this means in practical terms is that the women’s costumes in the first act are much slimmer and more dance-worthy than when the ballet is set in its original, earlier period, and that the action in the second act takes place in what seems to be a fairy-infested World’s Fair exhibition hall. As fine as the dancing is (from soloists and corps alike), it’s really the costumes of Martin Pakledinaz (including a Ballets Russes touch in the act II getups) and the scenic design of Michael Yeargan that make this production so vivid.
Now, it must be said that Tomasson’s choreography doesn’t entail much deep psychology (aside from establishing some motifs that really pull the developments in act I together). There’s nothing at all sinister about Drosselmeyer, who here is just an odd toymaker who likes to entertain kids with magic tricks (and serves as Clara’s chaperone through act II). There are no psychosexual shenanigans involving Clara and the Nutcracker, and despite the 1915 setting, the battle with the mice follows the conventions of 18th-century warfare, with nary a sniff of the trench or mustard gas.
Conductor Martin West’s work with the company orchestra is good, although the conducting and playing tend to lose focus in low-key numbers like the Arabian Dance. The best musical contribution to a video Nutcracker I know is Charles Mackerras’s account for the Pacific Northwest Ballet production, with its pointed rhythms and intense yearning. You can obtain the audio alone from Telarc.
The extra features here are truly interesting, not just filler. The audio is PCM only (choice of two or five channels), and the 16:9 picture is derived from a film transfer of multicamera video. There are a couple of sloppy little video edits that probably occurred when the show was being rushed onto PBS a couple of years ago, and should have been corrected before the home-video release, but they’ll slip by most viewers.
This endearing production deserves to be a basic Nutcracker for every household.
FANFARE: James Reel
The Blu-ray Experience II - Opera, Ballet and Theatre Highli
PUCCINI, G.: Madama Butterfly (DNO, 2003) (NTSC)
Vocalise / Adam Walker, James Baillieu
