classicfm: LA Phil/Dudamel Bruno Walter commemorative Mahler 9 at the Barbican - 28.01.11

The Los Angeles Philharmonic toured Europe with fifty years commemorative of making classic Bruno Walter recording of Gustav Mahler’s Ninth Symphony with the Columbia Symphony Orchestra – ensemble comprised then of much L.A. Philharmonic personnel. Sessions were held January 16th, 1961; Gustavo Dudamel showcased the work in Disney Hall on same date this year.

Tempos in particular for the first three movements were similar to those used then by Bruno Walter. The Adagio was the sole exception – especially in mind of Walter having moderated his tempo for the final Adagio from how he conducted it for his Anschluss era Vienna recording. It took not until Bernstein’s Amsterdam recording – among several slowest on record (with Levine’s two) but instead until Roger Norrington for Bruno Walter’s earlier tempos to very nearly be recreated – the swiftest on record – for which Arnold Schoenberg probably called Walter a coward. One reckoned Bernstein might serve partially as Dudamel’s model for this early stab at Mahler Nine. Bernstein was dissatisfied with CBS compelling him to keep length of his Adagio down to 23 minutes - two minutes more than Walter in 1961, nearly five more than 1930’s Walter.

Dudamel has had dicey luck with Mahler thus far. His DGG Fifth with the Simon Bolivar strains for ability to grasp form – lessons learned from which, I suspect he applied here. Dudamel’s inaugural Mahler First with Los Angeles missed nearly all the simplicity behind its inspiration – with tendency to distend phrasing to disproportionate lenghts, plus the fussy quality about it all. It missed what subtle nuance can best serve indicating how the Mahler First Symphony points forward as well. With Verdi Ernani, Lombardi store greater perils for the unwary than do Otello, Don Carlos, Falstaff.

Broad approach to the Ninth’s (supposed) profundity and fuss over less essential detail was less problematic here. Mahler’s Ninth presents some of his most open, exposed writing of any numbered symphony of his since the Fourth. It also hearkens back to emotional subjectivity of the earlier symphonies - after the more objectively conceived Ruckert – with the Ninth fourth within (broken) line of purely orchestral symphonies.

This was for sure a young man’s Mahler - Mahler not very deep into middle age when he composed this. The love of life, love of Nature it expresses is in part still that of a young man partly unwilling to let go. Dudamel kept the temperature slightly cool in approaching this music - somewhat in his still having a tentative feel for it overall, thereby a desire to be prudent, but also, welcome, most engaging of all with its lyricism. .Mistakes certainly became, during some of the Andante comodo, frequently obvious, plus some intermittent through the three remaining movements. Here is still work-in-progress interpretatively, but one also perhaps fully on its way to fruition. Some of the coolness or, if you will, objectivity may be due in part to both a still slightly thin quality of Los Angeles PO strings, but also the dryness of the Barbican acoustic. An airing of this interpretation from Vienna’s Musikverein might tell us more.

Subdued air pervaded the ‘Lebwohl’ opening – understated irregular pulsation underneath and falling quality of main thematic motif – gently filled out by slightly distraught warm glow. Eventually‘ leidenschaftlich’ characterized D minor theme started off with clear direction, then to have Dudamel fuss over minor crests in continuing line thereof, also turning filled out return of varied ‘Lebwohl’ (in D Major) slightly flaccid. Forward, light projection of ‘leidenschaftlich’ underpinned Exposition closing section, then momentarily making all curiously sound slightly weightless, but simultaneously finding something both naïve and refreshing within lift to overall line. Slight clipping of ‘irregular heartbeat’ on octaves put things slightly off, but then surfaced sufficient profile to nobly frame suitably restrained viola section lament.

Impulsivity lightly seized transition into weightlessly trumpet fanfare marked Mit Wut (and nicht zu schnell) that Dudamel firmed up with nodal point from doubled brass therein – then to let all slide away limber. Tricky proportioning out of imminent, truly marked ‘Leidenschaftlich’ became loose. Exchange of bi-tonalities on ‘Lebwohl’ got underlined well, but brief ‘schattenhaft’ to follow slightly picked apart. All to follow into climax to the Andante comodo flowed by - perhaps as though all easily achieved.

Dudamel could have been facing serious issues, had the movement almost ended there. For instead what happens, one began to sense Dudamel’s hearing past this point. All broadened out beautifully for weighted cortege entering from afar. Full orchestra broke off without fuss for beautifully shaped flute, concertmaster, horn solos. Key location throughout here was Dudamel’s just slightly rushed ‘Etwas belebter’ utterly spot-on – next to Lenny’s distended, deconstructive taffy pull - both in anticipating it and making the release. All then without bathos melted into clear, then fading away blues - almost as though to make one forget ‘multitude of sins’ encountered earlier.

Moderately broad in pace, strengthened thus, the ‘laendler scherzo started off with heavy marked rustic gait, knowingly, not self-consciously so, allowing this music’s charm and banality speak for itself – even while leaning hard on repeatedly inflected accompanying brass. First go at second laendler could have afforded heavier downbeats but all landing hollow, right on brass and timpani. Dudamel waited until later reprise of gentle ‘Lebwohl’ F Major laendler to linger over it more than matter-of-fact – indicating growing sense of mastering the art of omission alongside that of commission. Variation on somewhat already the ‘wrong-note reprise of Laendler II Dudamel momentarily had his horns accompany with a most comical slurp, impossible not to have tickled the funny bone.

Drawing out of transfigured colors its harmonic shifts turned poetic extended F Major laendler (reprise), making one indeed reflect upon Columbia Walter’s better virtues. Preparation of ‘dance is over’ solo bassoon reprise of Laendler I was fine, with earthy reply from woodsy solo viola, winds, concertmaster, followed by strong elan and heft for genuinely invested gutsy started mid-phrase Laendler II reprise. Following very intentional gaffe several minutes earlier came, equally witty, big unintentional one, on rushed restart of Laendler I, de-tethering just about everything – so much fun – with recovery very quick. Pulsation through low thudding perfect fifths beneath, dark ruddy color and macabre effect all about - purposefully, ironically including odd bow noise from the concertmaster - sardonically, ideally helped bring this scherzo to a close.

Strong parody, irony emerged more the intent with Rondo-Burleske than banal virtuoso display Other than slight thinness in the strings - Dudamel most attentive to achieving good accenting - the character of this music, taken moderately fast, came off fresh. Solo strings cutting through rustically klezmer parody of Third Symphony got sharply etched – follow through on lower winds’ voicing, marking also thoroughly characterized. High wind’s running preparation of main subject reprise was acrid, with dry reprise of further distorted march also spot-on. Trio opened with decent simplicity, especially as limned from aloft by the violins. Luminous buildup to the climax to developing its main idea became also slightly understated – through warm harp glissandi. Reprise of main section was more straightforward than fierce, with light pointing of strings led ‘operetta’ episode palpable, Accelerando by trumpet was slightly impulsive - utter enjoyment of everything in place of making display again paramount, with merry romp through lower brass toward concluding cadence of perhaps more lift than usual vehemence.

Dudamel framed opening the Adagio with strong lean on its unisons, but avoided sinking line by observing following internal separations well. .Pace was very slow overall, but did not feel it much except for C-sharp minor episodes. Several big crests to the line got understated, perhaps one or two slightly deflated – sign of inexperience but also already strong opinion on where more important emphases should lie. Probably nothing about this entire Ninth more took me aback, conducted by Dudamel - much heart-on-sleeve having been expected instead. Quieter sections of this Adagio were such for which Dudamel opened wide most frequently well calibrated space for them to project their deeply meditative quality, vernal shimmering lights in higher reaches – to recall the ever blossoming, renewing quality of much within ‘Das Lied.’ Others, certainly Bernstein’s first try at the Adagio make afterthought of these passages for great ‘wailing wall’ of obvious big refrains, but not Karel Ancerl – now hardly Dudamel either.

Reach toward large climax, through subtio piu mosso (marked Nun etwas drangend) was flexibly impulsive - Dudamel then gently applying the brakes for four descending big notes into starting the recapitulation. At similar crest in tutti minutes before, he eschewed over-emphasizing this for how more charged he could make large reach without forcing it, toward it all cutting off. Anguished high violin’s A natural - intense from Otto Klemperer - got mildly understated toward good, mature impetus lyrical shaping of entire line overall. Dudamel failed to quite open ‘Adagissimo’ final page slower than body of this Adagio – final show of naivete then some excessive lingering over this music’s ultimate fading away.

This interpretation of Mahler’s Ninth still has some ways to go - not to fall back on more conventional solutions, but instead perhaps to even take several extra risks. Most moving here seemed both Dudamel’s very close scrutiny of the score and amount of heart and imagination, if not surplus of intellect he has invested into thinking it out. With Los Angeles Philharmonic instead of with orchestra back home with which Dudamel can often rehearse over twenty hours each program he conducts, even with what mistakes, naivete present, this is the best I have yet heard Dudamel on anything – versus Dudamel the primed, pumped fawned over pawn of nefarious marketing forces active, omnipresent today. How much this aspect of the business he can put aside may well determine how he can prevent himself from ever again cheapening other repertoire - and then perhaps make great strides.

NPR: New York PO. Alan Gilbert. Karita Mattila. Beethoven/Nordic program. 29.1.11

Music of Beethoven split this program with that of Sibelius and Carl Nielsen. Partly to complement how Nielsen's Second Symphony is, Alan Gilbert favored a big-boned, even heroic approach to the somewhat deceptively modest Beethoven Eighth. Though more naturally yielding for its second theme, opening statement of affirmative opening idea got slightly gunned toward invigorating all to follow, strongly driven. Double dotted rhythms anticipating gentler second idea got executed with stalwart rigor, to be consistent with what preceded them. Gilbert also flexibly shaped transitions coming off the second theme, with their rustling tremoli in the strings right underneath, yet followed by crudely hatchet-ed closing idea.

Yielding again as Gilbert was coming off of this, his shaping of the Development section turned out most apt, central fugato buildup thereof both flexibly handled and infused with fine strum und drang toward propelling all forward. Principal clarinet, reflectively on opening theme, opened coda pliant, off hammered close to the recapitulation – toward very confidently concluding the first movement.

What worked well for the first movement worked less well for the remainder of this. Deft ironic wit to the Malzel Allegretto, on which Philharmonic winds were less stiff than the strings, went missing, by dint of mostly strictly marking time from the podium. Heavy, stolid leaning on opening to the Minuet was good, but oddly there was no coming off as line in the first violins carried on just about equally stiff. Excessively underlined accents on timpani and on trumpets, vulgar, layered over the musical rhetoric an extra layer of irony; rustling accompanied well phrased French horn duo for the Trio was more on the right track.
Violin section tremoli to open the rapid finale emerged ragged. Poise got recovered for second theme, as expected, but rhythms for first theme derived subject for fugal writing in the Development turned at once slightly pressed and flaccid. Longer, extended phrases of secondary development Gilbert provided breathing space; working toward nagging impression of a certain lack of charm by and large however was continuing incidence of strain from the violins.

Finnish soprano Karita Mattila then appeared for first of two major selections – the concert aria ‘Ah, perfido’ – in effect study for Leonore in Fidelio – by Beethoven. After abrupt start by Alan Gilbert, Mattila made noble, but curiously arched profile of this piece’s opening recitative – not to mention the expansive, psychologically shifting emotional landscape it covers through just several minutes. Mattila attempted compensating for some hollowness within middle and lower middle range by placing back and darkening color beyond what is natural. Her grasp of emotional terrain that Metastasio’s heroine covers, with all hue and nuance in place, was never in doubt. Maintaining free flow through this, inculcating so very much, was however. Strained high A at crest of ‘Vedro la mia vendetta’ limned fully achieved ferocity thereof to contrast with warmly, firmly achieved legato for closing line of ‘Per lui vivea, voglio morir per lui’ – even with emotion expressed very distraught.

Phrasing continued equally specific through following aria, albeit with much placing back compromising legato and tubular production of engaging reaches into higher register doing the same. Expressive lightening of the tone and of phrasing provided relief – motivated by this singer’s complete musicality and very psychologically worked out response to this aria’s text. Somewhat heavy underlining of slow refrain portion of the cabaletta – all though very sincerely felt – contrasted with awkwardly placed good attempt at lighter tone to take on ascending, descending runs – causing slippery intonation. Combined flexibility and courage to take on this repertoire, combined with complete musical and dramatic grasp of what is at hand helped very well obscure what has always been with Mattila a slightly faulty technique. Even with that less possible now, one could not help but get caught up with Mattila’s thorough engagement here.

Gilbert, warmly supportive of Mattila through the Beethoven, found more common ground with her on selection of three Sibelius songs after the break. Apparently some artistic partnership, revolving around not quite exclusively Nordic repertoire formed during Gilbert’s handful of years with the Stockholm Philharmonic. Enveloped by fine atmospheric sense from Gilbert and the Philharmonic and informed by Mattila’s very intimate feel for the text - poetry by Rydberg (in Swedish) the source - sense of mystery to encompassing Hostkvall (Autumn Evening)’s expansive lines got compromised by vocal problems. This was true through melismatic line to sing of softly falling silvery rain formed from gloomy realms of misty cloudland above (translation: Rosa Newmarch) that Mattila approached by tubular means instead of floating it – up eventually through an unsupported high B natural and slippery intonation overall. This song was composed for the charismatic Finnish diva Aino Ackte.

Coming next was Arioso, also string accompanied, like all three songs here to Swedish text. Pained sense of rapture lost on climactic line to this – Gossens aga ar dass vardag – with its wide (almost Kundry like) jump from a high A down to low D-Sharp drew impassioned feeling from Mattila, though preceded by unvaryingly bearing down an approach to make yielding transition to it effective. The heroine of Arioso unfavorably, naively compares her destiny to that of a wilting flower she observes for her having to concede to family loyalty over desire for the youth at the very center of her life.
Gilbert provided accompaniment sumptuous, but slightly cool, with in mind assisting Mattila toward saving voice. For such thick production, one might even suspect some lack in genuine warmth – also in ability to still convey innocence.

The brief ‘Varen flyktar hastigt’ dealing with fleeting character of a Nordic spring, making it a time for (equally fleeting) love - winsome waltz step to it -freely invited Mattila to lighten up some – opportunity for which she halfway took advantage; transition from minor to major mode Gilbert himself made detached. Fortunately, Mattila recorded all three of these songs at the peak of her powers - with Sakari Oramo (for Virgin Classics).

Alan Gilbert, in having provided us a Beethoven Eighth in bold strokes, even in bringing out something of a driven, hectoring, even quite irascible quality beneath its sanguine surface, was perhaps thinking of the Nielsen to close this program. Neilsen spoke of the different moods or temperaments in human experience in his ‘Four Temperaments’ (Symphony No. 2), of at times their overlapping each other; Nielsen’s music reflects this – least so in the intermezzo second movement devoted to the ‘phlegmatic’ – portion o Gilbert has singled out as particularly charming. Nielsen’s manner of painting in primary colors, for more fully orchestrated passages - in giving the brass much prominence - finds a true advocate in Gilbert.

The strong attitude with which Gilbert opened the first movement certainly made the case. Slight clipping of abrasive accents and cut-offs became suspect. A hard pressed quality of the playing turned things monochromatic against better internally reckoned harmonic changes being made. Supple expanding out of oboe led second theme and of later retransition for less heavily accompanied concertato of winds though got encouraged very well. Strings strained to be heard through crest of their lines through tightly negotiated fugato over loud brass during the Development – equally due to thin unison high scoring for violins as perhaps any indiscretion on Gilbert’s part. While yielding well to this music’s episodic lyricism, the forthright character of the music making here, perhaps slightly peevishly, complemented well how Nielsen himself here depicts a choleric mindset or temperament. Gilbert in taking a forthright tempo prudently withheld excessively pressing the Philharmonic past where they could clearly maintain upholding this music’s demarcations, thus confidently articulate this music with bold strokes.

Following supple trailing off to end the first movement, the indicated phlegmatic ‘waltz’ of the second movement, as perceiving it two-dimensionally, came off well – though slightly devoid of charm or if you will, of Nielsen’s harmonious melos to depict a lighter naïveté. Trio section beginning quite strictly marked eased up well toward achieving better lift and shape, eventually ambling toward return of main section.

Gilbert, to frame starting the Andante, tried plumbing its ‘melancholy’ depths – in how he had strings dig right in, early on. Appoggiatura laden, plaintive reply in oboe, picked up, well characterized by other winds promised good opening out of further rhetoric. The playing here took on a more settled quality, more richly hued, more flexible than heard earlier in either this or the Beethoven. Violins immediately made flexibly singing line out of continuing lines from the woodwinds. Good chamber music was made of principal flute introduced major key episode – continued by Judith LeClair (bassoon) and Philip Myers (horn) before tensions bottle up toward stern reprise of opening this movement. Gilbert’s leaning on thicker scoring to follow reckoned well deeply harmonized chromatic spelling in the brass. Gilbert spoke of an Elgarian quality to the writing here – to perhaps explain his bold strokes to limn its nobility, pathos – deep in twilit colors. Broad expanding out of opening material reprised maintained well, focussed, overall distraught mood to the end.

Except for while intermittently competing with onslaught from the brass, violins displayed good vigor, putting on the ‘sanguine’, to start the finale. Gilbert continued equally at ease with all here as with the Andante. Full chordal interjections, interrupting several lines almost anticipate passage out of the second half of ‘Elegy’ from Bartok’s Concerto for Orchestra. For two minute interlude to slowly muse, reflect upon more doleful terrain earlier covered, Gilbert, with fine voicing through Philharmonic strings achieved good simplicity. Further enhancing swagger with which the finale opened, the coda, changing up the rhythmic shape of opening material, indeed came off here somewhat Elgarian, but with hearty spirit infusing all, very confident of this music.

HGO - Youth informs both vocal leads, podium for Lucia di Lammermoor in abstract new production. Albina Shagimuratova. 05.02.11

Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor, last seen downtown in 2002 and 1994 – starring Tiziana Fabbricini (opposite Marcello Giordani) and Laura Claycomb respectively, marked for Houston Grand Opera its second of two new productions to grace the Wortham this season. This also marked quite an important role debut, that of Russian soprano, former HGO studio artist and Tchaikovsky Competition winner Albina Shagimuratova, and also then the HGO debut of Greek-American tenor Dimitri Pittas (remembered from Met in HD as the tearfully plaintive Macduff in fine new production of Macbeth several seasons ago). Antonio Fogliani, with fine dvd (previously Emerging Pictures presentation) of Maria Stuarda from La Scala to his credit (starring Mariella Devia and Anna Caterina Antonacci), made his HGO debut conducting Lucia.

John Doyle, with more theater and Broadway than opera to his credit, for most pacing of this Lucia, laid out on a chilly abstract set, tended most of the way to tread lightly in depicting action on stage, motivations of characters involved, etc. The stage, apart from props of a couple of chairs, long table for the wedding scene, merely consisted of large wide panels or flats of murky, cloudy atmosphere – sitting at both straight and tilted, at times oddly tilted angles – as in part to symbolize a rigidly repressive quality to Scottish society – and the arbitrary murkiness of it all to come to grips, so to speak. What appeared to be nefarious contractual dealings would be seen ensuing mostly on narrow opening to stage rear over to stage left – more insightful than meddlesome. Very stiff, stylized procession of bridesmaids decked out in gray upstaged Raimondo both toward end of the ‘letter scene’ to start Act Two and midway through the tomb scene – as Scott Cantrell of Dallas Morning News found mildly risible. Also, characters interacting with each other tended at times to stand implausibly very close to each other, for situation at hand, relationships to portray. Such most often can not, on terms of emotional or physical intimacy, be plausibly assumed to be better than guarded.

The overall brooding quality of the sets and simplicity of design thereof most certainly did not rob the drama but little of its power or dynamic. Costuming, while mostly drab or abstract, abided well by historical accuracy standards; formal jig danced on stage early on in Act Three, Scene 2 (that before the Wolf’s Crag scene got restored had been Scene 1) was tasteful, but squeezed all a little tight by pressing accents from the orchestra pit, for it presumably not to linger a moment too long.

Still obviously new to singing the part, Albina Shagimuratova made a modest, humble waif type of creature out of Lucia. One writer has quipped already that she dramatically portrayed little of the mental instability of the character – that is, until her final scene on stage, the celebrated Mad Scene, for which the Doyle production suddenly became eccentrically elaborate, in comparison with earlier scenes. As Maria Callas knew full well, most of the insanity depicted in the part should come through the voice, inflection of the musical lines – as in context of when, in which aesthetic Donizetti wrote this opera, any excess of flailing about is bound to look very silly. Fortunately, Doyle and Shagimuratova readily stopped readily short of going over the top with any of the kind.

Shagimuratova had the requisite agility, evenness of line, sweet lyric timbre, mostly secure top to be reckoned quite an interpreter of Lucia – and certainly some real nuance, musical sensitivity for how Donizetti composed it as well. Moments of emotional immediacy with the text, especially at key moments during Act Two, were telling – all that could have been picked up from week of intensive coaching up in New York with Renata Scotto. And yet there here that seemed something altogether held back about her work dramatically - and in this particular instance placed under certain stylistic constraints to presumably fit in well with all else going on.

Legacy perhaps also of having worked with Scotto was a certain thickness that could occur around the break, making for especially during rushed ensembles toward end of Act Two a shrill, sharply tuned approach to acuti (high notes). A greater allowance for flexibility, including from the orchestra pit was necessary here toward ensuring Shagimuratova the best legato shaping of her lines, even individual profile thereof, but that for her opening aria in Act One and Part Two of the Mad Scene did not quite happen. She instead sounded constrained from filling out her lines with the requisite emotional weight and coloration (much leniency still available to do so without distorting proper shape to her lines, stylistic properties thereof).

Part One of the Mad Scene, in which Shagimuratova was eventually given all space she needed, freed her up to color numerous lines with half-lights, thereby to contrast much variety of shape and color very tellingly – all that worked a spell for as long as it would last over the entire hall. This was true, even with playful, even slightly witty distraction of making bridal train out of tablecloth previously covering length of very long rectangular table to represent nuptial festivities on stage, getting her hands smeared with blood, and then 9as thanks to Scott Hendricks for singing their duets together non legato with her?), smearing her stained hands on him. Fluently, most expressively sung cabaletta to her big scena in Act One was also enthralling. In scene with her brother near start of Act Two, one picked up a telling response to individual lines, only for cabaletta especially therein to have become too streamlined as well. With caution heeded as to how to better manage the break and making shifts, this could soon be an interpretation of Lucia to reckon – certainly not dependably surpassed thus far by either Netrebko or Dessay in still relatively new, cluttery Mary Zimmerman production at the Met.

Dimitri Pittas made a dashing figure of Edgardo, if not quite the harried, fraught profile or intensified as such vocally. The indeed fraught qualities of Edgardo’s plight were evident, but perhaps in manner hard to distinguish from that of anybody else much, glib this way, for both the natural lightness of timbre – and as especially toward end of Act Two, being rushed through rendered shapeless Act Two sextet and what follows. Expressive ardor for Lucia was genuine. With ‘assai’ part of Moderato assai’ well observed, but for genuine rubato, shaping thereof, the sempre legato missed, Pittas was equally at glib loss as much as Shagimuratova during a strictly weighted ‘Verranno a te’ moderate paced cabaletta ending Act One. One left for intermission without having picked up grasp of the rapt intensity written therein.

Worrisome about Pittas himself was some constriction right zeroed in around the break that for much of the evening he had trouble freeing himself – except with how he beautifully caressed his lines for ‘Fra poco a me ricovero’ near start of the Tomb Scene. Such relaxation allowed the listener to wrap oneself with ease into the noble profile of Edgardo’s lines and of emotional situation to the fore. Moderato marked cabaletta to this made case for pressing too much forward from the pit, thus for numerous constricted F-sharps from Pittas for not being allowed what is really indeed Edgardo’s space for shaping his lines. Whether the motivation was making 10:30 pm deadline or maintain things within chokehold of purist constraints or both should most likely remain a mystery. Suitable tone of defiance with swagger for lines to sing during the Wolf’s Crag scene Pittas made ring out well. Never was any sincerity in doubt, neither for the most part the musical sensitivity of this still young artist.

Scott Hendricks made moderately short (in stature), stocky appearance as the villainous Henry Ashton, good snarl and swagger of ‘Cruda, funesta smania’ and of some of Wolf’s Crag, but veered riskily close to coming up with stock villainy, mostly due to not being able to employ better than sketchy legato for his lines. Oren Gradus, of robust stature and voice, made a sonorous Raimondo - other than some of his extended range coming across mildly pitted or hollow, something he artfully attempted to hide with extra emphatic declamation during ‘Dalle stanze’, racconta to stunned wedding guests of what has transpired. The abstraction of this Lucia overall gave Gradus somewhat of a pass to settle for a stand up and sing rendition of the subtly duplicitous Raimondo, but he managed to make fine closing impression with his imprecation of Normanno for having been catalyst to tragedy unfolding – gravitas to horror expressed to Edgardo for his seemingly impulsive reaction to news of tragedy all about as well.

Nathaniel Peake looked dashing as Arturo Bucklaw, while hinting at wanting to shy away from F-sharps in his wedding arioso – without having to appear to be road kill for their being there – as has happened with stock casting of this thankless part at more famous houses than the Wortham. Beau Gibson was the astute, cleanly sung, purposeful Normanno, but with a few of his lines covered up by neighboring choristers, all handsomely profiled to near stage rear at opening of the first scene. Rachel Willis-Sorenson, newest among HGO studio members here made very handsome, supportive warm profile of Alisa and her lines. Choral preparation by Richard Bado left nothing to be desired.

Mention as aside to Fogliani here has stopped short of giving him the credit he deserves for his very smart shaping of the overall dramatic profile of Donzietti’s Lucia di Lammermoor. This was apparent right away with the confident giusto he employed with the opening, remarkably terse prelude to Act One that opens this, but also for stormy prelude to Wolf’s Crag as well. His ear for rich color and nuance to delineate form thereof is also fine, but likely expected from him of his forces here a little better weight from the lower strings of the Houston Grand Opera orchestra – remarkably lacking for ominously limning tremoli for to beckon by Enrico (into cabaletta to follow) for Lucia to join wedding festivities and to robustly accompany Edgardo crashing the party as well. Otherwise, this is the best the HGO orchestra has sounded here in perhaps several seasons.

Fogliani certainly could not be accused of any stodginess here, or of yielding to his singers’ thorough command of how all should be shaped to render his work that of a lifeless accompanist. However, what of the sublimely anguished turn in Lucia’s line during Mad scene cabaletta to minor subdominant on a high C-Flat that here got mercilessly shaved off to maintain consistently breezy pace through it?

In place of stodginess one had the sense of practically a definite compartmentalization of, detachment in negotiating musical proceedings, even remindful somewhat of a young Riccardo Muti – more so except perhaps for two moments than of Patrick Summers and his ‘period’ motivated approach to bel canto thus far. It is perhaps not to scrupulize, not to blow off the dust of tradition enough to mark with light (unmarked poco allargando) lift the crest of opening line to ‘Per te d’immenso giubilo’, but the swagger to inform animated triplets (to prevent them from turning stiff) to spin off from such then goes missing - and somewhat did so here – making for detached instead of sustained framing this choral interlude should provide.

The score here was presented unabridged, except just in part in interest of keeping the action moving, for cutting several repeats. The obvious fire in Fogliani’s approach, especially when not excessively sweeping other elements out of the way, made for a refreshing debut here – even though one might reckon a better filled out, more holistic approach to presenting all of Donzett’s Lucia di Lammermoor in new production such as just opened here.