Met (NPR): Tedium pervades slowly Nezet-Seguin led broadcast season opener - Verdi's Don Carlo. Solid leads from Giuseppini, Yonghoon Lee. 18.12.10.

Peter Gelb certainly has an eye for what is trendy on different stages across the pond – but quest to find both unifying and meaningfully diverse approach to staging opera at the Met proves elusive. Such holds true with bringing Nicholas Hytner’s pseudo-naturalistic, half traditional, timid production of Don Carlo from Convent Garden to the Met.

Anthony Tommasini may find refreshing having this instead of “regietheater metaphorical nonsense” one can pick up from distinctive productions such as directed by Luca Ronconi (in sore need of revival), Peter Konwitschny, or Luc Bondy. Here, laid out against flat-dimensional phallic sized - take your pick - church, portrait of weeping Christ, monastery, we have portrayed a group of powerful people living during time caught up in the throes of religious fanaticism “feeling alienated from their inner selves.” Opening woodcutters’ chorus to open Fontainebleau that for only economy’s sake Verdi could have dropped is now no longer heard at the Met; in its place we have the standard 1886 beginning that inadequately replaces how Don Carlo(s) originally opened.

This is only the second opera, first Verdi for Yannick Nezet-Seguin to conduct at the Met – Nezet-Seguin now music director designate for the Philadelphia Orchestra. If impulsive, impetuous precocity is ideal hallmark for genius on the podium, Nezet-Seguin has it - in spades. The Met orchestra, obviously allocated much time to rehearse this, sounded full and substantial just about the entire way. For one half of a surname looking, sounding French, most mystifying here was a thorough lack of the command of French rhythms throughout - for practically all passages therein affecting more of a galante style or pace than the rest – plus more than just those. Negotiation of such was altogether stiff. Nezet-Seguin stated in interview that he finds a Brahmsian feel to much of Don Carlo. There was indeed some reach-from-behind to much of this, as though much of Don Carlo might consist of hemiolas extending over bar lines. The weight however with which Nezet-Seguin infused much of the scene in the King’s private chambers and also exciting close to the Fourth Act made it his most successful of the entire afternoon.

As exciting an impression Nezet-Seguin made at the end of Act Four, there was excessive tendency toward over-emphasis earlier, for purpose of our not missing out on his personal stamp on proceedings. One place early on was the plea by impoverished French women out in the forest by Fontainebleau to Elisabeth in effect to concede her personal desires to the general welfare of bringing war to an end between France and Spain by marrying Philip. Verdi marks an imperceptible slowdown and at which point Nezet-Seguin grounded things to a halt, robbing combined expression of thanks and needed relief of the full repose it should have – a most moving and important passage, though brief – especially given harmonic relationships involved – the E Major for the balm of the prospect of the war ending a clear resolution of the supertonic of the womens’ pleas right before. E Major is also practically Schubertian Neapolitan to opening chorus in E-Flat Minor some episodes earlier that we now miss. Monks entered so loudly at start of next scene to be perceived as entirely upfront and center.

Overworked accenting, underlining during first scene between Rodrigo and Carlo proved both distracting and interfering with both Yong-hoon Lee and Simon Keenlyside’s ability to sustain line well. Once into friendship oath duet Lee began closely watching Nezet-Seguin toward engaging in heavy underlining of his lines on several transitions – mistake in judgment he also repeated later on. Finicky incisiveness for opening the garden scene made almost blaring the sultry atmosphere that Verdi has preface a then here crudely accompanied Veil Song. Unyielding accompaniment to Rodrigo-Eboli dialogue accompanied by sotto voce interjections from the Queen proved most inconsiderate of all three singers on stage. Though fine ear for color became evident during swooning episode (‘O prodigo’) from duet for Queen and Carlo, structure for the rest of this and for much of the duologue between Philip and Rodrigo to follow became incoherent. Confusing to the Eboli was making her skip practically entire measure of rest to enter for second trio ending her audience with Carlo – joined by Rodrigo.

Underlined misplacing of accenting the opening of the auto-da-fe scene – with chorus of onlookers thrusting crosses into the air in this staging to mark the accenting stood on verge of Pythonesque self-parody. A reviewer for BBC already commented upon the over-emphatic extra priest Inquisitor making final brutal interrogation of the heretics on stage (further dehumanized by the staging) reminding him of scene out of Life of Brian. Excessive pressure from podium rendered fatally episodic the Flemish deputies’ led concertato later in the scene – one further instance of insensitivity by Nezet-Seguin to his singers. Loud perked up percussive harp accompanying a radiant Jennifer Check (Celestial Voice) putting Verdi’s finishing touch on the auto-da-fe scene became extremely vulgar. Certainly, enthusiasm for task at hand sounded infectious – the temperament for conducting opera is right – but way too many instances of finesse lacking indicated too much inexperience to take on as long and interwoven complex a score as Verdi’s Don Carlo(s). A better trial for relatively untried youth on the Met podium would be Verdi’s Aida, even with as many traps for the unsuspecting it has. The damage done is less.

Marina Poplavskaya repeated her Elisabeth from opening of this production at Convent Garden under Pappano preserved on dvd and of revival thereof, disastrous for her, under Semyon Bychkov. Here, without restoring much confidence in her continuing to sing Elisabeth, Poplavskaya was more circumspect in hiding better where she was still taking excess number of breaths, still often chopping up her line – with intonation already clearly being tenuous at best.

The vulnerability of Elisabeth amidst the realpolitik of Escuriel re-emerged from being better evident during first run of this production across the pond; foreign though intonation compromising color to her vocalism can still knowingly limn easier passages of this part. Some of the timidity now coming across as purely musical plus failure to (fully) sustain line for instance for ‘Non pianger’ or ‘s’ancor si piange’ during her great scena alone to open this opera’s final scene– even for her on-the-defensive ‘Ben lo sapete’ - reveals there not being enough here to sing Elisabeth. This is so, regardless how lovely Poplavskaya looks, for anywhere major, until some major issues get overcome - if that is still possible. For her welfare, one can only hope.

Simon Keenlyside, always having lacked the heft to take on some of Verdi’s most demanding parts, has always been correctly esteemed to fit well the Marquis of Posa, Rodrigo – but he has apparently hit a bad patch lately vocally, plus having walked the boards for the Hytner production with its incipient mannerisms long enough. He suffered probably the most of anybody from lack of support from an almost incurably self-attentive Nezet-Seguin – until a sensitively accompanied and sensitively well sung ‘Per me giunto during Act Four. He also contributed well to the quartet during previous scene and provided a moving “O Carlo, ascolta” with which to bring to a close his contribution here. Sadly, the lower middle of his range seems to suffer some disrepair, with low notes very dry and strained effort for the very upper end of his range now – all of which had Keenlyside resorting to chopping up musical lines excessively. Even so, the upper middle, near upper portion of his range still carried some sheen – including through passages of his lengthy audience with the King.

Keenlyside is not the artist to entirely fail to win sympathy from his hearers for part such as Rodrigo. Eric Halfvarson, as Rodrigo’s nemesis, made it sufficiently known his knowledge and deep reckoning of his never placating text to sing – but compromised by wobble overtaking the entire upper end of his range.

Korean tenor Yong-Hoon Lee made his Met broadcast debut as Don Carlo – certainly tricky for the occasion, but for which Lee showed genuine mastery a good ways. For such a lyric voice, there was some strain, bench pressing of key moments; other places he managed to coast free of excessive pointing from insensitive accompaniment – conspicuously well for ‘Tristo a me’ preceding friendship duet with Keenlyside. His deft shading of line with lovely achievement of mezza voce at top of the staff (including for opening scena through ‘Io lo vidi’) even here and there brought Carlo Bergonzi to mind – even including (though Bergonzi’s diction can not be faulted) some excessively dry Italian vowels – albeit keeping in mind that this opera was originally composed in French; it still too infrequently gets sung in French.

Though capturing well Nezet-Seguin’s imagination at ‘O prodigo’ in Act Two, Lee got muscled into bench pressing closing line to ‘Ma lassu’ with a thick toned Poplavaskaya at end thereof – with Nezet-Seguin crudely bulging its barcarolle like accompaniment underneath. His resorting to shouting to end confrontation with Philip at the auto-da-fe was impulsive, but within this context so open, so unyielding to anything to have come off precisely right; moment of sobbing right after Rodrigo is shot also was heart-rending. Introspection, poetic sense, even neuroticism for key passages helped Lee pull off good qualified success at singing this enigmatic part, including fine sustenance of line on behalf of his colleagues for trios during Act Three.

Giorgio Giuseppini stepped in on short notice for Ferruccio Furlanetto - heavy pouting and dry vocalism of the latter that undercut his appearances thereof at Convent Garden. It was highly welcome to have somebody less familiar with the Hytner production replacing him. Although perhaps second tier among La Scala ranks and slightly dry vocally, Giuseppini brought a stoic grandeur to Philip, knowingly making better sense of the King’s frustration, and despondency in assessing tight spot Philip finds himself in throughout this. Giuseppini provided noble profile and shape to his opening scena to Act Four; also moving was his subtly acted pleading before the Inquisitor with hope for good outcome all lost, despondently so. His stern obbligato to the Flemish deputies – not helped by fussiness from Nezet-Seguin, for momentarily losing good placement sounded dry, even rough, but after a long break Giuseppini found his stride the entire rest of the way. Even if dry, slightly pouted on several lines, Giuseppini established himself a Philip to be reckoned with during duologue with Keenlyside. As far as having developed fine knowledge with and of idiom in which to sing Philip, Giuseppini led this cast.

Leyla Claire provided the eager, perky Tebaldo, Jennifer Check a radiantly sung Celestial Voice, Alex Tanovitsky a resonant, dignified but tremulous Frair.

I save the best for last – Anna Smirnova as Princess Eboli. Except for marking during quartet in Act Four, passively helping make more of a trio out of it, here was something full-out in context of so much insipidly pointed, fussed over, underlined. No matter that unsteady support for upward extending sextuplets in the veil song verged close to completely derailing things, the ‘let’s hear it’ attitude became compelling, including fearlessly lunged for acuti during ‘O don fatale.’ This was stand-and-deliver for all the great bluster it was worth. Task of freeing Carlo from prison even for once sounded effective – except for fear of being overheard.

For tedium of this production the Met has now foisted upon us - when available from abroad presumably was Luc Bondy’s much better production, Smirnova could ultimately only be found guilty of being very shot in the arm the doctor could have ordered. She even had Nezet-Seguin in palm of her hand for underlining of passionately (almost bawled) fervent pleas to Carlo to reconsider on repeated pitch E-Flat’s during Third Act rendezvous to trap him. With so much fuss to bore most anybody with Don Carlo, a favorite of mine, Smirnova vouchsafed a place in my heart – for what must now suffice as an underwhelming start to the Met broadcast season.

ROH Don Carlo (revival - Nicholas Hytner): Escuriel in two dimensions - Semyon Bychkov. Jonas Kaufmann the Infante.

This marks second time to have covered airing of the Nick Hytner production of Verdi’s Don Carlo - in interest of hearing several singers and Marina Poplavskaya repeat Elisabetta. Previous comments date from June 30, 2008, weeks after this production first opened – and can still be found at BCCLS opera listserv.

Semyon Bychkov took over from Antonio Pappano this time. He invested more imagination into several passages, darker tinta overall, but moreover a verticalization of Verdi’s orchestral fabric to extent that structural cohesion of numerous passages sometimes would give way. Toward accommodating cast members, some other compromise factored in.

Remindful too soon of Radio Norway with Shostakovich last month was Lisa Simeone’s claim on NPR that what we would be hearing would in effect essentially be the 1884 Milan four-act version of the opera. It is indeed more compact than any of the five-act versions, including the 1886 Modena version. What we got instead was still the 1886 Modena – its last four acts - because if this really had been the Milan, Jonas Kaufmann then would have had the aria “Io la vidi” to sing – with altered recitative then newer version of the aria written a whole tone down.

Jonas Kaufmann took Rolando Villazon’s place as the Infante. One missed some Latin warmth and intensity from Villazon, but less so persistent intonation problems he has been having. Kaufmann had some of his share as well. Presuming youtube excerpts to be from same opening night as this broadcast, the evening for Kaufmann got to a somewhat rocky start. Word has it that both Kaufmann and Poplavskaya used ‘Fontainebleau’ as warm-up for the next act.

Break in legato off tied B-Flat for “Di qual amor” from Poplavskaya instantly became desecrating, plus later instances she’d break up the line to accommodate what vocal shortcomings she has. Kaufmann’s mezza voce high B in “Io lo vidi” practically scraped the throat. Intonation was sour and legato proved unfeasible while stuck in the throat. However, matters improved well for him for most of what followed - until final duet with Elisabetta.

Kaufmann succeeded best while onstage with Simon Keenlyside (Posa), but had success too with Act Two duet with the queen. The deeper, more phlegmatic, less explosive temperament of this Carlo next to Villazon’s meant also less specificity about the Infante than with Villazon. It is lovely, when not too self-conscious or phrasing from behind in doing so, to hear Kaufmann caress his lines and reveal as well, perhaps less keenly than his baritone colleague, a lieder like sensitivity for words, such as ideal in either Schubert or Schumann. And yet in early duet with Keenlyside, Kaufmann’s focused “Tristo me” leading into friendship cabaletta revealed such metal that momentarily it could have been a good second-tier Otello doing this. Kaufmann’s purposefully dull waking up from swoon into which Carlo has coalesced in front of Elisabeth carried both distinctive poetry and verisimilitude.

There is still more personality to draw out of Verdi’s Carlo than Kaufmann provided; safety net of mezza voce eventually became a cliché a good ways through this. From what we know now, portraying Carlo as person hard to get to (really) know could be insight one can draw from hearing either Kaufmann or Domingo. One could look to Carreras for Karajan (preferably 1970’s EMI) for a slightly more valid extrovert approach, or with less than perfect intonation, Villazon.

Marina Poplavskaya made a vocally fragile queen this time – more so than interpretively. She somewhat blasted through “No, pensate a Rodrigo” to Kaufmann moments after “Tu che le vanita” with wodge encircling the passaggio - recalling late-career Scotto. There were fine moments still, to recall Poplavskaya’s better lyricism in approaching this – cause for some optimism – such as her reply to Eboli near start of Act Two garden scene. Her “Non pianger” was still sensitive, though lacking secure reach over crest of its arching line. Bychkov then rushed her slightly through “Ben lo sapete” (during confrontation scene).

“Tu che le vanita” was just disastrous, though unlike with Cedolins so off key (with Gatti) it became hard to recognize what it was, here the aria was still fully recognizable. One sought in vain legato for both “s’ancor si piange” and its later reprise. Marcia altogether lacked vitality and in effect ‘farewell’ barcarolle with Kaufmann was both choppily phrased and accompanied, through final tastelessly bench pressed, punched out (by both singers) “e sempre Addio” right before Inquisitor and King enter, both hardly to mind their mowing both of them down. Perhaps neither should we for the effect on what Verdi wrote. Lovely stage appearance apparently was inadequate toward providing good vocal countenance - with legato as between worn and patchwork as Ricciarelli’s (DGG); this being so, it is hard to explain what interpretation remained, except for having heard her earlier with Pappano. Intonation was more intact and Pappano more supportive, conventionally so.

Marianne Cornetti was the light voiced Eboli, with lovely top, until pressing upon it hard. Several choked low notes hither and yond indicated verismo effect and/or perhaps just some lapse in technique. The veil song went reasonably well, though with some rushing, rhythmic distortion to accommodate rolling from break to top – given how soprano in timbre Cornetti is up high. She definitely proved the weak link with male colleagues in Act Three. Top notes for “O don fatale” were vaguely supported and penitent middle section was placed back to extent of making Eboli sound somewhat over the hill. Ganassi was last year’s Eboli, but with better established record in Rossini; such did not qualify her either for taking on this qualitatively dramatic soprano part.

Ferruccio Furlanetto most notably repeated Filippo II from last year. He resorted to excessive shouting and pouting in the part when this production opened, some of which he has internalized by now. For what wear and tear on the voice has ensued, he became more prudent here. He sang as movingly as I have ever heard him do so both “Oso lo squardo” at end of Act Two and opening lines to his fourth act aria; he and Bychkov agreed on maintaining more conventional line for “Dormiro sol”- out of which perhaps more could have been said. It was already obvious last year, clear by now that the Hytner/Furlanetto Filippo II is somewhat a diminution thereof. One felt pity for this Phillip, but less than full appreciation for the King’s dignity, with which Verdi fully invested him.

The best two dramatic events that occurred between both performances broadcast occurred with this revival, for two passages over which hard to favor any – even most anything in Aida - duologue for King with Posa and same with the Inquisitor. As somewhat Bychkov undercut the meeting with Posa, he fully rose the occasion for that with the Inquisitor (John Tomlinson, in place of Eric Halfvarson). Keenlyside last year had to drop out for indisposition for unstable Kostas Paskalis protégé Dimitri Tillakos to replace him. Keenlyside sounded a little darker this go-around than what little I have heard from him last year and slightly more compromised in legato. Interpretively he was ideal here, in standing up guilelessly beseechingly, to the King and in also revealing for Posa on last dying breath particular weakness for inciting Carlo.

Bychkov undercut Keenlyside by denying him full space to ideally encompass expanding lines in “Per me guinto” - by conducting phrase-ending a cappella lines from violins too strictly. Keenlyside evinced too considerable grace and charm as Rodrigo, such that the King might envy him at what chances toward winning Eboli exist, but also nobility with darker tone ideally enhancing some calming influence on Carlo Rodrigo has. “O Carlo, ascolta” may not have yet been the most moving account (accompanied by extra wide trumpets at its outset) of it I have ever heard. Apart from mariachis accompanying him, from the Royal Opera pit, he still transported it forward through a telling intimacy, free parlando, plus complete grace and poise.

The other triumph from this cast was as Posa’s nemesis – yet after the insinuating way Keenlyside referred to Carlo , i.e. “la vendetta del Re” – John Tomlinson indeed alone was the true epitome of a real nemesis; there could not have been possibly any worse since Martti Talvela, in almost very equal power struggles with a still young Nicolai Ghiaurov. I would rank both instances as among best handful of performances I have ever heard. Tomlinson essayed his lines with absolutely steady tone, a hint of the visionary though venomously misguided, his flexibility in being able to needle the King into getting the Inquisition’s way. I would have liked however for Furlanettto as King to have been able to stand up to the Inquisitor a little more. The despondency with which Furlanetto addressed Tomlinson – “Mio padre” – was heart-rending for what clearly is defeat for the King. It was perhaps here that Philip, in Hytner’s take on things, became again three-dimensional in full. This was not so much great music-making as theater, but still fine music-making indeed – with it hardly more Bychkov could do than step back.

Robert Lloyd, former Phillip himself, made Friar - one of both quite estimable (and also noticeable) age, experience - of considerable gravitas. Pumeza Matshikiza was the eager, but slightly quavery Tebaldo. Robert Anthony Gardner and Eri Nakamura made fine casting of Herald (and Lerma) and Celestial Voice, with resonant choral forces led very capably by Roberto Balsadonna.

Semyon Bychkov has indeed the heart for Verdi’s Don Carlo. There was though much compromise with his singers, leaving the structure of what Verdi himself penned down almost in the lurch. Granted, there was certainly much more semblance of an interpretation at work here than at La Scala’s opening night a year ago. One noticeable moment was for the duet in the last scene – bump intruding legato lower strings in obbligato to “Ma lassu ci vedremo” to go with the utter non legato of voices above. Passages of this score under Bychkov, instead of being varied components within a connecting line, would occur in blocks. Of note were several instances of accelerando or sudden change of pace to usually faster. Posa’s first solo during Act Two duologue started flat-line from Bychkov, then to infuse quasi-scherzo accenting halfway through to make agitation welling up in Rodrigo’s mind seem to have externally come about.
Opening of the prison scene was too fast - accents on lower middle line in the strings jabbed to extent of sounding positively Slavic. Other unmarked accelerandi, following convention, sounded applied from without. Bychkov does have some feeling for Verdi’s music and idiom, but his language for conveying it being conspicuously vertical at times though trips him up – such as with starting both monastery scenes (that bookend the 1884 Milan version). He certainly sounded most engaged during the two duologues, during much of Carlo and Elisabeth’s Second Act duet, and brought out more darkly than with Karajan, the diaphanous, insinuating textures of womens’ chorus just earlier starting garden scene and of Carlos awaiting audience with the queen, starting Act Three. One might surmise that Bychkov could have mistaken some of the latter for introducing scene out of Parsifal.

Entrance of royalty during the auto-da-fe had fine gravitas. Concertato started by Flemish deputies proceeded with fine, well limned solemnity. Mannerism abetted by influence of von Karajan was some alchemy between producer and maestro here calling for certain amount of mezza, sotto voce to convey intimacy between characters; more direct delivery of numerous lines would still leave us impression of dialogue occurring in private. Bychkov believed for obsequiousness to some of his cast in keeping so subdued the accompaniments that they then robbed cantabile vocal line above, of ebb and flow, except for singer who could enliven it all on his/her own, which Poplavskaya and Cornetti mostly failed at on their last two arias, respectively. Bychkov also confusingly made lumbering viola and cello triplets underneath Philip’s Ah si maledetto 1866 version (Maudit soit le soupcon infame) thirty-seconds (but on different pitches than 1866) in place of the 1886 sixteenths.

Supposed intimacy with characters for the audience broke down - with hardly any irony on Hytner’s part – subtle wall to remain up between the two parties, not to put us at ease, but for us to process information we receive from onstage for ourselves. Stage direction for actors to in essence do our work for us, provide us with our response to what goes on, is very irresponsible.

Addition of new assistant inquisitor (Teo Ghil) to the auto-da-fe is excessive - fortunately, as opposed to with Pappano, not shouting over music for banda for interrogating the condemned men he administers. He sounded this time placed further back. Watching 2008 youtube, I take issue with portraying the condemned heretics almost equally contemptibly as the Inquisition. Any self-respecting Catholic will look down upon both the horrific abuse that took place in 16th century Spain and abusive neglect by the Church since. Sorry to say, but Hytner victimizes the heretics, afresh perhaps, by also dehumanizing them. Fine skill is apparent, but such a narrow aesthetic grasp - hardly at all with Don Carlo alone. Sweeping contempt for organized religion is long familiar by now, but not some more effectively creative way of putting it across?

Don Carlo was never a good piece by which to lift the weight, cares of this world off one’s shoulders, yet Verdi seldom provided us with as complex thinking and empathy for all his characters involved so well as here. Long do we pine for escape to a better world - so remote also to those once inhabiting the Escuriel; we toil, wax and wane for seemingly long hours, yet especially while compared with the hereafter, our time is short.