Tag: Opera

  • Korngold Birthday Rediscovering a Master

    Korngold Birthday Rediscovering a Master

    Today is the birthday of one of my favorite composers, Erich Wolfgang Korngold (1897-1957), in my heart since childhood, thanks to viewings of “The Adventures of Robin Hood. But guess what? I love his concert music and his operas too! Here’s a joyous discovery for a spring afternoon: Korngold at the piano, playing his own themes from opera and the movies, at the home of Ray Heindorf, who worked very closely with the composer as an orchestrator on a number of his classic film scores. By 1951, Korngold had already left Warner Brothers. He would work on only one more film, the Richard Wagner biopic “Magic Fire,” released by Republic Pictures in 1955. Hear Korngold sing (if you can distinguish him from Heindorf) and actually speak, especially during the final minutes, accompanied by some fascinating home movies.

  • Wagner Yannick and Tristan A Mixed Reaction

    May 22. Richard Wagner’s birthday. Anyone else looking forward to this endurance test with the Philadelphia Orchestra? 4 and ½ blissful hours of blood clot-inducing “Tristan und Isolde.”

    This tongue-in-cheek teaser has been receiving a mixed reaction. I happen to think it’s very funny, but on message boards, music chats, and social media, it’s been getting more than its share of vitriol. Evidently, there are some real Yannick haters out there. And I am sorry to have to admit, classical music still does have its stuffed shirts.

    Thankfully, I spend as little time around them as I can. In fact, I’m not sure how close I am to any of them in real life. But you know how it is. These guys can come across as the most unassuming, mildest-mannered people, but give them the anonymity of the internet and they all turn into monsters.

    It’s okay to have opinions – I’ve got plenty of them myself, and by no means am I satisfied with everything Yannick conducts, strictly from an interpretive standpoint – but lighten up. It’s just a teaser, and it’s supposed to be fun!

    This “Tristan” is unlikely to be on a level of Wilhelm Furtwängler’s or Victor de Sabata’s, but it is an opportunity to hear one of the world’s great orchestras play Wagner’s hypnotic, narcotic, viscerally intense, revolutionary score without the distraction of the seemingly-inevitable, nihilistic Regietheater nonsense productions you’re likely to encounter these days at virtually any opera house that’s going to attempt a staging.

    The Everest of “Tristan” is littered with the literal corpses of those who have attempted the climb. Not only have singers destroyed their voices, but conductors have actually died. Felix Mottl and Joseph Keilberth both dropped dead while conducting the second act. The very first Tristan, heldentenor Ludwig Schnorr von Carolsfeld, died suddenly at the age of 29, after only four performances.

    In an interview given shortly before his death, Giuseppe Verdi said that he “stood in wonder and terror” before Wagner’s “Tristan.” Is it any wonder that Yannick is getting himself into shape?

  • NYCO: Will the Phoenix Rise Again?

    NYCO: Will the Phoenix Rise Again?

    Is it possible the phoenix is about to rise again?

    For decades, New York City Opera was always the other, upstart opera company at Lincoln Center. From 1966 to 2010, it made its home at New York State Theater, across the plaza from the more venerated Metropolitan Opera.

    While NYCO could not compete with the larger budgets and star-power of the Met, it was not unusual for it to excel its establishment neighbor – which could often be encumbered by its larger space and more ponderous productions – through creative artistic solutions and investment in unusual and neglected repertoire. Furthermore, NYCO provided a launchpad for many singers who went on to international careers and graduated to the Met itself, among them Placido Domingo, Samuel Ramey, José Carreras, Carol Vaness, and of course Beverly Sills. Sills served as NYCO’s director from 1979 to 1989.

    Approximately one-third of NYCO’s repertoire was devoted to American opera. Among works to have received their first performances by the company include Aaron Copland’s “The Tender Land,” Robert Kurka’s “The Good Soldier Schweik,” Robert Ward’s “The Crucible” (recipient of a Pulitzer Prize in 1962), Jack Beeson’s “Lizzie Borden,” and Ned Rorem’s “Miss Julie.”

    The company also presented a number classic musicals and served as a springboard into the opera house for Leonard Bernstein’s “Candide.”

    Despite its decades of artistic success, in 2008, it was revealed the organization was struggling against serious financial difficulties. After 45 years, it would depart Lincoln Center to perform in a variety of New York venues, including the Brooklyn Academy of Music, until its seemingly inevitable bankruptcy in 2013. (Ironically, it was in 2008 that billionaire David H. Koch donated $100 million for the renovation of New York State Theater. The space has since borne his name.)

    In 2016, the company was revived under new management, NYCO Renaissance Ltd. The new NYCO returned to Lincoln Center with a performance of “Tosca,” not at Koch Theater, but at Jazz at Lincoln Center. Since then, it has maintained something of an itinerant existence, in recent years maintaining its presence mainly through recitals and park performances. It has not given a staged performance since the world premiere of Ricky Ian Gordon’s “The Garden of the Finzi-Continis” in 2022.

    Now the company seems poised to begin a new era. Conductor Constantine Orbelian, who had been the organization’s music director since 2021, was promoted to its executive director in September. The first concert under his administration will not be a staged opera, but rather an ambitious program to be presented at Carnegie Hall under the title “Music of Survival: A Celebration of Survival and Perseverance Told Through the Universal Language of Music.” The evening will include Mieczyslaw Weinberg’s Suite from “The Last Inch” and Fantasy for Cello and Orchestra, Erich Wolfgang Korngold’s rarely-heard Cello Concerto, conceived for the Bette Davis film “Deception,” and the U.S. premiere of Gennady Rovner’s “Metamorphosis” Symphony. The concert will take place on February 24 at 8 p.m.

    This will serve as preamble to next season, which will highlight a fully-staged revival of William Grant Still’s opera “Trouble Island.” The work, with a libretto by Langston Hughes and Still’s wife, Verna Arvey, focuses on the rise and fall of Jean-Jacques Dessalines, leader of the Haitian Revolution, the only slave rebellion in history to successfully establish an independent nation.

    “Troubled Island,” the first work by a Black American to be performed by a major company, in 1949 (after having been withdrawn twice in 1945 and 1948), was a great success with the opening night audience, receiving 22 curtain calls. Critical reaction was not as kind. Years later, Still’s daughter Judith claimed the work’s positive reception had been undermined by institutional racism. “Howard Taubman came to my father and said ‘Billy, because I’m your friend I think that I should tell you this – the critics have had a meeting to decide what to do about your opera. They think the colored boy has gone far enough and they have voted to pan your opera.’ And that was it. In those days, critics had that kind of influence.”

    Still had already achieved unprecedented recognition in his field for a composer of color, having also been the first Black American to have had a symphony performed by a major orchestra, the first to have had a symphony performed widely, the first to have conducted a major orchestra, and much later – three years after his death, in fact – the first to have an opera (“A Bayou Legend”) broadcast on national television, as late as 1981. During his heyday, Still was widely hailed as the “Dean of Afro-American Composers.” But for some reason, a Black man in the opera house was evidently perceived by influential forces as an audacious step too far.

    In 2006, Judith Still organized the heartbreaking story into a 600-page book she compiled from original documents, “Just Tell the Story: Troubled Island.” I ordered it in 2021, from William Grant Still Music, which is owned and operated by the composer’s family, but have yet to read it. I will do so before attending next season’s performance. Hopefully the planned revival will not be hampered or dismissed because of anti-DEI initiatives. While I agree that music and composers should rise or fall according to their individual merit, they should also be given the same opportunities as their peers. From what has been allowed to reach the public, Still has long proven himself an important voice in American music. Sadly, it’s only in the wake of George Floyd that many of our musical institutions are finally giving Still the platform he has so long deserved. I think he would be shocked to know his music is now being played by most of the country’s great orchestras.

    NYCO was founded in 1943, offering affordable opera out of New York City Center, on West 55th Street, formerly a Masonic temple, converted into a performing arts center by New York Mayor Fiorello La Guardia and City Council President Newbold Morris. La Guardia dubbed it “the people’s opera.” As previously indicated, the company moved to Lincoln Center in 1966, the same year the Met opened at its new digs. (Since 1883, the Old Met had been located at 1411 Broadway.)

    Unfortunately, I missed the glory days of Sills and her associates, but in the 1990s, I would travel in to New York with my best friend to catch NYCO performances of rarely-staged operas by Korngold, Sir Michael Tippett, Ferruccio Busoni, and Paul Hindemith. This would have been during Christopher Keene’s tenure. Keene had conducted at NYCO since 1970, and I am greatly indebted to him for some highly enjoyable and musically stimulating afternoons at the theater. Later, I learned of Keene’s personal demons, which made his energy and professionalism all the more remarkable. Sadly, he died of complications from AIDS in 1995 at the age of 48.

    Buoyed by the excellence of these productions, I brought my parents, who were not “opera people,” but were curious, to see Arrigo Boito’s “Mefistofele.” Tito Copabianco’s classic production had propelled both Norman Treigle and Samuel Ramey to superstardom, but regrettably by 1994, it was looking a little threadbare and sad. At least it had an orgy and some horses (though not in the same scene).

    Orbelian says he also plans to resurrect Pietro Mascagni’s “Isabeau.” You can read more about it here:

    https://apnews.com/article/new-york-city-opera-constantine-orbelian-c4b9260c0ca4d5dbb8caf326de81a430

    Music of Survival at Carnegie Hall on February 24

    https://www.carnegiehall.org/Calendar/2025/02/24/The-New-York-City-Opera-Orchestra-Music-of-Survival-Works-by-Weinberg-Korngold-0800PM


    PHOTOS: William Grant Still and baritone Robert Weede, behind the scenes of “Troubled Island;” and New York City Opera’s Constantine Orbelian

  • Evenings with Hector Berlioz: Music, Scorn, and Genius

    Evenings with Hector Berlioz: Music, Scorn, and Genius

    “Music makes herself beautiful and charming for those who love and respect her; she has nothing but scorn and contempt for those who sell her.” Only one of the many quotable observations in Hector Berlioz’s “Evenings with the Orchestra.”

    I’ve been reluctant to try to encapsulate this book, which I finished weeks ago, in preparation for this year’s Bard Music Festival. “Hector Berlioz and His World” will begin on Friday at Bard College in Annandale-on-Hudson, NY. (For more information, see the link below.)

    Oscar Wilde’s Lord Henry memorably observed, “To define is to limit,” and there is something about this book – like Berlioz himself – that defies limitation. It’s every bit as much of a chimera as the composer’s most ambitious music. Satire, autobiography, music criticism, sociology, aesthetic philosophy, slapstick comedy, parable, historical romance, science fiction, and grand guignol form a curious menagerie, startling as the wonders of Dr. Lao’s circus parade.

    The tales and framing device provide glimpses into the composer’s life, his encounters with musicians great and poor, his intense love affairs raising him on wings to heaven, only to dash him in the other place, his observations on a beleaguered art in a hopelessly flawed and vulgar world, and his impressions of what he perceives as our very greatest and worst music.

    At times, these take on a fantastical element. The composer projects his criticisms of the current state of the art, circa 1850, five hundred years into the future, to an authoritarian, Gluck-worshipping society, complete with air ships like something out of Edgar Rice Burroughs. I kept expecting Raymond Massey to show up in his massive “Things to Come” helmet. In one of the interludes, things turn unexpectedly gruesome, rivaling the most horrifying episode in Edgar Allan Poe. In another, we learn of composer William Vincent Wallace’s erotic adventures among the cannibals of New Zealand.

    We are introduced to the microcosm of the opera house, with its vainglorious tenors, who treat music scores like so many hangers on which to display their gaudy clothes; impresarios who know little about, and care nothing for, the integrity of the works they present; and the routine rough handling, arbitrary cuts, and clumsy alterations to which even the greatest operas are routinely subjected.

    Furthermore, Berlioz seldom allows an opportunity to pass with which he can use to illustrate what a bunch of idiots the wider public are. Yes, even back then.

    The overarching conceit has the narrator (Berlioz or an alter ego) visit the pit of a foreign opera house, where most of the musicians are shown to quickly lose interest in whatever jejune trifle they’re given to perform, dismiss whatever imbecilities transpire onstage, and pass the time gossiping and exchanging the anecdotes and stories that become the bases of the various chapters of the book.

    There are notable exceptions. Whenever the works of Gluck or Weber find their way onto the music stands, they play as if they are handing down Holy Scripture.

    A recurring target is the overzealous bass drummer. Berlioz makes no secret of his disgust with the vulgarity of most Italian opera, especially Rossini; but he is no easier on the French, at one point offering an ostensible – albeit extensive – review of a new opera by Adolphe Adam that, beyond a few sentences at the end, is really mostly an account of Berlioz’s weekend in the country. This review originally appeared in a Paris newspaper. As you can imagine, there was no love lost between the two composers.

    We also learn about the political maneuverings of the claques, factions paid off by impresarios and singers to applaud and cheer, with the aim of bolstering the reputations of performers and the successes of new productions.

    Also, about “tacks,” when conductors take to rapping their batons on nearby objects to attract the attention of musicians. According to Berlioz, or the narrator, in one case, the maddening repetition of the act against a resonant box at the foot of the stage, night after night, drove the prompter who worked inside finally to commit suicide.

    Episodes like these excite with their lurid interest. However, they are interleaved with panegyrics to Berlioz’s favored musicians (Spontini, Gluck, Weber, Paganini), and some of these, I have to admit, can go on for quite some time. They provide their own sort of interest, but after a while, they can get to be a little challenging for a reader burning the midnight oil. When Berlioz warms to a subject, he can waffle on about it for a good 30 pages. For great stretches, he can be amusing, occasionally even laugh-out-loud funny, but I must say, for me personally, “Evenings with the Orchestra” is not bedtime reading. I made much surer progress when I picked it up during the day. If you want a good Berlioz bedtime book, stick with the “Memoirs.” Its shorter chapters lend it a brisker pace.

    Whatever the composer writes, it is invariably full of personality. This book, more than most, really conveys quite vividly that nothing in human nature ever really changes – even without the author projecting 500 years in the future. I can totally relate to the types and personalities involved, and the composer’s frustrations, but also, thankfully, his sense of the ridiculous.

    I conclude by reminding you that the Bard Music Festival, “Berlioz and His World,” will take place at Bard College from August 9-18. You’ll find a complete schedule of concerts and more information at the link.

    https://fishercenter.bard.edu/whats-on/programs/bard-music-festival/

    Fisher Center at Bard

  • Bidu Sayão Comic Brazil’s Opera Superhero

    Bidu Sayão Comic Brazil’s Opera Superhero

    Who really cares about Batman or Wolverine? Since we’re all basically living in the tropics anymore anyway, here’s a comic book about Bidu Sayão. Thrill to the adventures of Brazil’s most famous operatic soprano!

    You have to scroll down to the bottom of Bruce Duffie’s interview to see a more complete spread.

    https://www.bruceduffie.com/sayao.html

    Sayão was a great champion of the music of her compatriot, Heitor Villa-Lobos. Here she is, in Villa-Lobos’ “Bachianas Brasileiras No. 5,” with the composer conducting.

    Later, she came out of retirement to sing Villa-Lobos’ “Forests of the Amazon.” You can hear some of it at the end of these selections from some of her signature roles (Manon, Juliette, and Mimi). There’s even a Brazilian folk song tossed into the mix.

    She’s heavenly in Debussy’s “La Damoiselle élue,” after Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s “The Blessed Damozel,” recorded here with Eugene Ormandy and the Philadelphia Orchestra.

    And “Si mes vers avaient des ailes” (“If my verses had wings,” text by Victor Hugo), by Venezuelan-born French composer Reynaldo Hahn.

    Once she established herself at New York’s Metropolitan Opera, Sayão had the good sense to make her home in the cooler clime of Lincolnville, Maine.

    Her comic book dates from the 1940s. I’m hoping for a Jack Kirby-style cover, complete with Bidu punching out Hitler.

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