HGO Fidelio: Wild, unqualified triumph marking heroic return of Karita Mattila - Met production revival (Jurgen Flimm). Michael Hofstetter. 05.11.11.

Common sports lingo might deem this having really hit one out of the park. Such could be very accurate in assessing Houston Grand Opera’s first production now of Beethoven’s Fidelio in twenty-six years. At somewhat an intuitive level, this Fidelio quickly near its outset and for numerous passages to follow had a way of leading its own way - working out by what even to whomever naïve appeared to follow a certain inscrutable and inexorable logic.

One major contributing factor was certainly HGO’s hosting of celebrated producer Jurgen Flimm - in production we borrowed from the Metropolitan Opera. BBC broadcast of Flimm's production ran last summer from London, starring a mildly tentative Nina Stemme and mediocre Florestan - Endrick Wottrich notorious for dissing Pierre Boulez, accompanying producer for their controversial, most interesting recent Parsifal together at Bayreuth. For casting deficiency or two and last minute need to replace on podium Kirill Petrenko with Mark Elder, things did not quite mesh, catch fire as readily as they did at the Wortham Center the Saturday evening, third performance, of this run.

Leads for HGO’s run on this occasion were Karita Mattila and Simon O’Neill. In 1985 they had been Hildegard Behrens and worthy of special note, the underrated Polish tenor Wieslaw Ochman – from whom eighteen months later we picked up a most suavely neurotic Herod – part somebody should have definitely made him record to supplement his Narraboth’s for Bohm and Karajan. Karita Mattila last appeared here in 2006 for Manon Lescaut - with cool Nordic penetrating tone, delivery scoring a considerable vocal and histrionic triumph then.

From several moments into time curtain was up on opening singspiel scene to Fidelio, one could sense something already in the air – even with just merely HGO studio member and returning alumnus Brittany Wheeler (Marzelline) and Norman Reinhardt (Jaquino) on stage, preoccupied as much as their habitual sparring conversation for the day as with polishing the jail office’s firearms arsenal. All, through Marzelline’s aria expressing her perplexity with conflicting romantic entanglements, came across with fine melos and charm without ever stepping over line to turn anything cloying. Especially anybody slightly more than casually familiar with Flimm’s work could pick up his very close manner of having prepared his cast to draw both his audience in and singers amongst themselves. Kristinn Sigmundsson, both figure and voice of ample girth on stage, played a very warm, convivial Rocco, achieving for later more dramatic scenes all on verge of fine gravitas for crucial interaction therein and genuine compassion for leading protagonists (and also never insipidly cowering fear of offending Pizarro).

Hard to locate, highly underrated Nozze di Figaro Flimm staged for Zurich reveals how – in close-up upon simple change of countenance turn to internal strand of the plot can be forced to happen, as though on a dime. Contrast this, if you will, with excess clutter accompanied heavy mug and blither while not blank feel characterizing David McVicar’s over-rated production of Le Nozze. There is more sexual, dramatic. musical tension on cusp of exploding between Eva Mei and Rodney Gilfry – partly for effort to have dropped many useless clichés – than to be seen the other night between a glib, blank-faced Anna Bolena and good Enrico VIII from the Met.

The very fine Falk Struckmann provided Pizaaro sinister mature weight for Met incarnation of Flimm’s production nine seasons back, vis-à-vis notably youthful, almost naively visionary appearing Rocco of Rene Pape. Dynamic between these two shifted for Houston Grand Opera now between Tomas Tomasson (Tomsky - Pique-Dame, 2010) and Sigmundsson. One might detect a little of suavely delivered (and vocalized) proto-Scarpia aspects of Rodney Gilfry’s brilliant portrayal of Almaviva in Tomasson’s Pizarro. With slightly gravelly voice, but determined line, forza infused encompassing of wide range, here was the picture of blind, youthfull choleric ambition, handsomely packaged – dangerously at the ready to close the sale toward dispatching of Florestan – and then eventually anyone else in his way. Such dynamic again between these two may have garbed itself in more conventional format than at the Met, it seemed, but really at only one end of running dialogue – and equally compellingly. Struckmann and Pape always remain a hard act to follow.

Striking contrast to the villainy of Pizarro, an equally dapper looking Kyle Ketelsen provided Don Fernando’s closing weighty benediction with fine shape and profile, artistically meriting equal approval from the hall – even almost as though unawares of sinister goings-on surrounding rear scaffolding – deep clouds hovering above – purposefully clearer and more disturbing to visual and dramatic perspective than as seen on digital video (dvd).

With even dramatic shift of power, even seemingly into the right hands, element in society can still persist toward trying to recover its way or holding of sway – perhaps more potently now than before – and as realized here also a little more violently – completely without overkill. Witness the sometimes arbitrary police berating of Occupy Wall Street, related protesters across our own fair land. So well articulated in having both Pizarro and Fernando both decked out in three-piece suits, is timeless long by now – since robber baron, wealthy bureaucrat decked out giants and gods respectively of Patrice Chereau’s Ring – oh, not to mention how efficiently laptop, fax machine, water cooler accommodated Alan Titus’s Wotan was for Flimm at Bayreuth two decades later. Very efficient timelessly modernized sett design (Robert Israel) in deep browns and grays, wall of tiered cells distinctively to the right with arms sticking out plus costuming (Florence van Gerkan) and lighting (Duane Schuler) were spot-on.

Couched by the fine simplicity driven musical leadership of Hofstetter, honed to near perfection all evening long - delivered with sufficient weight - long passionate high G from (visually) darkness enshrouded Florestan of Simon O’Neill starting his opening Act Two monologue rang out with compelling force and projection, but leading into fine shaping, encompassing of well nuanced lyricism of the part as well. For more dramatic utterances, O’Neill’s tone is not found the most ingratiating, but the certainty and ferocity of his delivery was sufficient to perhaps recall sometimes a hardly more tonally ingratiating James King on a good night as Florestan. The feel he provided for imploring Fidelio and Rocco for remote chance to see Leonore, his wife, again, through both spoken dialogue and song became deeply moving here.

Helping alongside Flimm and Hofstetter stitch all together was the magnetic Leonore of Karita Mattila, at first sighting stumbling onto stage carrying bag of groceries – as though still learning the steps of being a boy – but then this time perhaps bailing on daily potassium intake; perhaps Wortham Center pantry backstage or distributor was short on supply of bananas. Perhaps a Jurgen Flimm Wozzeck brought up to date, selenium or quercetin intake delivered or sitting around might also come handy – but then Wozzeck’s rage might turn out less violent and then the play would no longer be the same. (I could not help tonight but note Flimm’s place of birth being Giessen – site of Buchner’s alma mater).

Fidelio marked heroic return by Mattila to the Wortham Center stage. Shift of registers, making reach for high notes, sustaining line up to them is all such for which she has lost a little ease during the past several years. Within picture of quietly intense, flexible shaping of all that occurred here, depth of feel, perspective Flimm provided – Mattila recovered some of the above with fine malleability, color, flexibility, even some of the bloom of former years.

Between Mattila and Flimm, this Fidelio proved how great stage direction, production of opera requires a good ear on part of the producer - in addition to on part of who may be conducting. With Mattila fully understanding, encompassing very compelled, commanding line, filling much subtle nuance therein – through the challenging hurdles of ‘Komm, Hoffnung’ and elsewhere – dramatic impetus Beethoven’s music opens out, compels forward became complete, filling out all Fidelio is about. This was work matching highest current international standards for both directing and singing Fidelio – and especially from Karita Mattila, both always looking very comfortable in her own skin and thus filling out Leonore with most magnetic, engaged self-effacing warmth. One could not help but be moved.

Why much mention of Wozzeck above? One might guess and very reasonably that part of Marie Met – could figure before long within Karita Mattila’s sights. Given all the dramatic excitement happening on stage, the classic grosse pause Alban Berg parodied during Act One seduction scene thereof got slightly over-stepped here. There is still opportunity to ameliorate matters, fully recover the mother of all dramatic pauses in music history – to supplement good handful of pregnant, dramatically rife pauses interjecting earlier dialogue, interaction. Apart from that, Hofstetter, in pacing Fidelio, flexibly filling out its lyricism very seldom put a foot wrong. Mild prudence accommodating one or two slightly strained voices during Act Two may have slightly undercut dramatic tension, quasi-period abrupt accent or two may have slightly broken line - churlish to mention any of this.

Choral preparation (Richard Bado) is still fine, yet in this context I intermittently found several lines during Prisoner’s Chorus slightly louder in volume than might provide most moving results. Note however the hush, spaciousness with which Hofstetter infused slowly ascending strings to implore men sideways – and then prudent spacing, weight provided, underpinning them throughout and through sometimes aimless extending out through through-composed dialogue to follow –everybody’s attention rapt instead – toward poised, gently drifting off conclusion to Act One. Luminous warmth, achieved by HGO orchestra winds, alacrity infused witty pointing of opening singspiel, anticipatorily hushed Act One quartet (‘Mir ist wunderbar’) and highly spirited uplift infused finale to Fidelio marked Hofstetter’s return as very compelling (since good 2008 Beatrice et Benedict – featuring excellent Benedict of Norman Reinhardt) – always toward very clear goals in mind. He should soon get invited back.

This Fidelio is such necessity to go see, should anyone reading this be in the area - anything no longer important months, years later can get put aside for this opportunity. Houston Grand Opera has scored an unqualified triumph this week. Certainly for local yokels but perhaps for visitors from away to reckon HGO entity of true international standing - was occasion to feel very fortunate to be alive to witness this.

HGO: Britten's Midsummer Night's Dream. A restoration of all innocence and mirth. 23.1.2009 (repost from listserv)

This was Houston Grand Opera's second go at Britten's Midsummer Night's Dream, one of only three full length Britten operas that I know the company to have produced thus far. It was last seen here sixteen years ago. A gently aqua tinted green color pervaded the entire set for very much of the entire evening. Rear and side drops with drawings in black etched on them gave the set design somewhat of a Japanese feel, as did also perhaps a wide swath of green vellum, crossing stage from left to right. Quite brilliant touch, just somewhat opaque trapping as this was, it got physically dragged down to cover Tytania and Bottom-as-ass in their slumber together in Act Two.

The first several characters to enter the stage were Puck (Jon M. Hill in an only speaking part), Oberon, king of the fairies and Tytania, his somewhat sparring wife. Houston favorite Laura Claycomb played Tytania, with close to ideally clear, agile line and vocalism, excusing just a little uncertainty around the break and several not quite fully supported high notes. The only thing that may have held up Claycomb from having more than mildly qualified success with Tytania was perhaps a mild or perceived lack of warmth. As more relevant further down, she was also working in atmosphere more cerebrally achieved than not or otherwise. She was costumed very attractively in luminous blue and white, embellished with much fluff and frills, with locks of her naturally red curly hair flowing down her back. Claycomb was ideally witty with again Bottom as ass, in their central absurd love scene together.

Welsh countertenor Iestyn Davies (HGO debut) vocally enjoyed one of just a short string of unqualified successes with casting here. Less ostentatiously costumed than is James Bowman on dvd of the Peter Hall production, he gave his part the air of mystery, contemplation, and aloofness in a way much of his part calls for. His vocal production was about the entirely most even of the entire cast and could have been identified by a few of us with that of Alfred Deller. I hope it not heresy to say either that I found his more subdued, thus more introspective, mysterious interpretation of Oberon, in acting also, to be mildly preferable to the blowsier James Bowman on the wonderful Haitink/Peter Hall dvd.. This was altogether a very fine piece of work from Davies.

The quartet then later sextet of lovers or couples was half successful. Best of all was the lyrical and ardent, always musical and most often in tune Lysander of Norman Reinhardt, heard earlier this season as Benedict in Berlioz. He also looked and sounded the most convincingly animated during the difficult quarrel scene of Act Two. This was overall a part that suited him a little better than did Benedict.

Least satisfactory was the blustery and pitch-insecure Demetrius of Liam Bonner, who sounded attractive enough when singing lyrically, but otherwise was really pushing it and for too much of his part. Ryan McKinny as the Duke of Athens Theseus, almost noble enough in appearance, was lacking in enough authority for the part, with insubstantial legato and weak low notes.

Among the women, I was probably happiest with the Hermia of Kate Van Kooten (HGO debut). Very charming in appearance and most convincingly in love of the two women among the first two couples, her voice and singing, perhaps just slightly rich for what expectations are for the part, had lovely color to it, with especially rich low notes and supple phrasing of her music. I just detected just a few pitch problems toward the end of her performance here last night. Marie Lenormand started off as Helena with less control of pitch, often below it somewhat more than fortunately how she ended; she was (in addition to Puck) also the least attractively costumed of everybody on stage. The two women looked indistinguishable in class from the rustics on stage, Bottom, Quince, Flute, etc. One easily gets the point. However, without further insight, contrast between the two classes of people falls almost immediately a little flat.

Leann Sandel-Pantaleo sounded somewhat more authentic contralto as Hippolyta here than for Ursule in the Berlioz last fall. It had me wondering if she might have been feeling indisposed somehow then. Phrasing her music sensitively, she looked and sounded trim, sufficiently aristocratic in this part.

As for the rustics, Matthew Rose (HGO debut), other than a bit uncertain in pitch at first then even later on for a few low notes, was the droll and wonderfully endearing Bottom. He enjoyed shilling to the hilt the death of Pyramus to the great enjoyment of everybody. Otherwise, he bantered about and sang animatedly enough among his team of six rustics without on purpose either in acting or vocally overshadowing anyone else - least of all the very lyrical Flute of veteran tenor Steven Cole, and the hilarious Snout and sprechstimme Wall (in Pyramus and Tisbe) of Jon Kolbet. Though with acting matching well enough with the rest, the practically also pitch-sprechstimme Quince of Robert Pomakov was a washout. There was so much rattle to his pitch that it was seldom easy to discern any.

The act of Pyramus and Thisbe in Act 3, to entertain the aristocrats, was a huge send-up for the entire hall, and for things that work this way downtown, was for the most part very convincingly funny, as opposed to the look-at-us, we're funny brand of humor in two recent runs of Mozart comedies here, Nozze di Figaro and Don Giovanni - very distracting in both. Since a wonderfully funny Barber of Seville here in 2004, fully appreciated by all, I do not recall an episode of such genuine and good laugh-out-loud humor as I found in Pyramus and Thisbe last night.

The skit animated Patrick Summers as well, though he tended to be quite good for all three scenes for the rustics - only on the dry or academic side for them during Act Two. At the beginning of Act One, the orchestra sounded insufficient in its lower reaches. This robbed the music of a necessary sense of its having overtones that even in notes not more than implied in the harmonic texture must somehow at least seem to land on the ear for Britten's music not to sound dry or academic. How would even orchestral forces as such, augmented a bit, be able to savor the Mahlerian (disclaimer::not led astray here by seeing the Visconti film) reaches of Death in Venice? Britten, by then, the end of his career, had very well cultivated an internationalized style and become the richer for it. Even in its chamber music sonorities, Midsummer Night's Dream helps pave the way to his underrated Owen Wingrave and Death in Venice.

Summers was at his best, accompanying Davies and Claycomb, Oberon’s noble aria in Act One, "I know a bank", after manner of Purcell, included. He gave good ear to the second episode for lovers in Act One (an act that is organized in rondo form), especially with the anxiety Hermia and Lysander express therein. This and episodes of writing for celesta and strings revealed an ear for color, though other passages through the evening sounded both tonally and rhythmically a little flabby. Undifferentiated as to the harmonic changes that occur in it, that is without sufficient nuance, the prelude to Act Three went sour in intonation from the strings of the HGO orchestra. Playing from the brass, which is to be often pungent in color sometimes came across as timid, though otherwise all well played, in terms of accuracy, pitch, etc.

How flat in perspective and lacking a bit in depth was a stiffly conducted final chorus right before the end of the opera, that should instead, marked 'slow and solemn', should be succulent in its tonal richness. Thanks in part to Summers, the best moment for childrens' chorus (otherwise lacking courage with accents) came at the end of Act One with a well animated, practically Stravinskian "You spotted snakes." Overall, I would gauge that Summers got the Britten about seventy percent right, but to avoid the hazard of this music coming across as two-dimensional, some further effort was needed. It was also considerably unwise, not to allow an interval between Acts One and Two. For, in fact, those who do not know the score at all, there was hardly at all any discernible break at all between Acts One and Two - indeed very unwise.

What went the extra step of the way in making Midsummer Night's Dream quite the scuess it was at its opening here was the mostly well gauged production of Nell Armfield. Mentioned already was the faux pas in costuming in particular one or two of the lovers, which for Helena, looked as though it could have come off a rack at Ross or Marshall's. Though including demonic looking Oberon and just a bit over-the-top for Puck that way, stage direction was naturalistically very effective. All moved in as natural and mostly unassuming manner as one would have desired on the minimalist set. Gratuitous underlining of material was gratefully close to nonexistent. Lighting for one scene, incisively conducted by Summers, with infusion of the green on stage by bright white light - the chastisement of Puck by Oberon in Act Two - was very effective. In the context of so much else, the lighting here was even startling as well.

For condition the economy it is in and Britten's writing in this case that shows significant departure from the more populist style of his Peter Grimes and Billy Budd, Midsummer Night's Dream gratefully received a quite full house. After the full shenanigans of Pyramus and Thisbe in Act Three, the audience vociferously showed their appreciation at curtain calls, including for seventh rustic, border collie Buddy, who during Pyramus and Thisbe indulged us with, ad lib, a moment or two of barking. If only singers ….