NPR: LOC 2010-11 opener - Verdi's Macbeth - attempting making virtue of the pedantic, insipid. New production (Barbara Gaines). Renato Palumbo.

Lyric Opera of Chicago opened 2010-2011 with Verdi’s Macbeth - first time for Macbeth to be produced there in eleven years. There were several strong elements in play here, one that it was the season opener, and in it featuring a traditional modern abstract production by Barbara Gaines – founder and director of Chicago Shakespeare Theater. She has developed a fine reputation as such in the Windy City. Reliable not to send Lyric off on a limb again or on opening night, she made her operatic debut with this. According to press, she brought out detail most likely known just to people familiar with Shakespeare and thorough story background - much there also merely for sake of visual spectacle.

Lyric’s patrons seemed to be likely getting best of all possible worlds – a production simultaneously looking up to date, displaying sophisticated special effects and playing it safe to reward itself for being faithful to the text; no traditionalists other than the die-hard would take offense. There then was a respected producer from the community and two big names on the circuit as lead protagonists and particularly in Nadja Michael’s case, who look good. It seemed however as though there was perhaps extra detail, a little sophomorically over-explanatory, distracting attention from what should be at heart – and without developing meaningful frisson with the same. It ultimately seemed good news to still many traditional patrons that Lyric was not reviving David Alden’s production from last time.

Could it then be worthwhile John Van Rhein (Chicago Tribune) knows well matching, parallel social opprobrium up there to ours to make it good for Lyric to never revive the David Alden? Houston Grand Opera, sharing Catherine Maliftano as Lady Macbeth, played it in late 1997. Asher Fisch conducted the Alden production for Chicago well - then to return this past season to Lyric for Ballo in maschera. From listening to all three relevant broadcasts, the one most compellingly dramatic was Lyric’s 1999 Macbeth. Macbeth likely suited Fisch’s abilities, Verdian potential better than Ballo, latter that for its enigmatic, shifting character, found Fisch slightly aloof.

Renato Palumbo’s conducting of Macbeth from Lyric was simply erratic, unclear as to what it wanted to significantly bring to light. Fatuously tentative attempt at making calibration with Gaines’s overly busy stage direction was likely an issue, apart from whatever meaningful Gaines brought up on terms of psychological complexity, concerning the Macbeths. Nadja Michael’s accommodating Verdi’s music to her own vocal problems also confused matters.

Thomas Hampson (Macbeth) amidst this cast sounded most of all as though operating in a vacuum. Musical, dramatic intelligence he invests in what he sings still manifests itself. Macbeth reassuringly is the more passive member of the murderous couple; Gaines likely enhanced the effect by bringing to the fore metaphorically much sexual tension between the two, mostly at Macbeth’s expense - sexual frustration, too, with it perhaps some of the only thrill that Macbeth can get while being goaded on by his wife.

Since being filmed twelve years ago in Zurich again as Macbeth, Hampson’s voice has naturally darkened; strain while attempting high notes now accompanies subtle change to quality of timbre and weight. His opening duet, ‘Due vaticini’ with Banquo evinced fine line, steadiness, noble poise. Dignified wariness, foreboding informed first extended scena with Lady Macbeth – but compromised by insufficient power for several notes above the staff and streamlining of inevitable cabaletta.
Apparitions of murdered boys found Hampson confidently defiant but with little tether from orchestra pit upon which to anchor his lines. Trickier still, similar held true for his banquet scene hallucinations. Hampson descended to engaging in Sprechstimme for confronting second vision (and then somewhat again during ‘Vendetta’ duet closing Act Three). One listening keenly could reckon early on in dialogue - first between Macbeth and hit men - attempt by Hampson to fish out where (musico-) dramatic focus might be or from among whoever on the sidelines one might be able to gin or cook up some..

Hampson’s effort to capture Macbeth’s repossession of noble emotions rang slightly hollow. Good affectation of Verdian line for “Pieta, rispetto amore occurred, but compromised by fatigue, hollow mid-range, and undesirable tendency to fletcherize several phrase endings. David Pountney, who directed Macbeth at Zurich for Hampson (and Paoletta Marrocu), watching his production marks return to a more auteur approach to staging opera – without going so far out on a limb as David Alden, or more vulgar, Martin Kusej (Munich) – production in which Naidja Michael also took part. Even as glibly conducted by Franz Welser-Most – Pountney evinced clear sense of where all dialogue, insinuation, the dramatic argument lead. Hampson capitalized well on much in Zurich; fortunately numerous vestiges of his interpretation of Macbeth remained well intact here.

If evaluated on vocal power, swanky good looks alone, Nadja Michael (Lyric debut) is just ‘the babe’ for Lady Macbeth. She freely offered both in spades, plus fine agility up and down the range – except for glaringly insecure high notes. For part hanging out in a slightly higher tessitura than is hers to handle, there resulted issues as to how to negotiate characteristics of this part less depended upon than usual to sell the soprano lead.

Letter reading was haughty, grandiose. “Vieni t’affretta” started out well, but became thick, wobbly; eventual sag to line revealed take on this number low on steel, sustained vehemence, Albeit for handful of strong accents, cabaletta sounded equally tentative. Approach to following duet with Macbeth came across laid back. “La luce langue” from both Michael and Palumbo became a shapeless morass, essentially making nonsense of attempt at forza for anti-heroic coda to it – line having already petered out.

Openly ridiculous was – as reported by Seen and Heard - Lady Macbeth’s starting Brindisi both staged as and sounding besotted – idea, no doubt, but one easy to sum up as what a neophyte must have brought in to committee. With this music, way it is marked, it made little sense - evident not yet producer’s ability to develop element of frisson between text and layered on commentary just as of yet. Attempt to restore calm, starting second verse, with over-emphasized hesitations to start each line also heavily strained credulity. “Una macchia” (sleepwalking scene) Michael rendered authoritatively, but for frequently melodramatic emphases. Intonation frequently soured near and above the break.

Italian-American tenor Leonardo Capalbo made a conventional Macduff – too rushed to settle in vocally – to effectively, early on, help announce foul play having just occurred. Recitative and ‘Ah la paterna mano’ sounded full of ardor, with good line, but all slightly heavy-handed. Clipping of cabaletta to follow between both Capalbo and Palumbo was cheap, vulgar. Konstantin Stepanov emerged sounding slightly thin as Malcolm. Slovakian bass Stefan Kocan with dark, grainy timbre, met Hampson favorably for first scene together. He tended to slightly push his voice toward achieving grander scale, resulting in tight vocal production – and then lost good intonation on several low notes. “Come dal ciel precepita”, accompanied well, Kocan made carry expansive weight, gravitas, foreboding. Fully long-breathed legato seems to slightly evade him, even with fine cultivated ability to lyrically phrase Banquo’s music at his behest.

Synchronization issues have been pointed out about the new Barbara Gaines production, concerning how to better move witches’ choruses around expeditiously. It was also Renato Palumbo’s responsibility to insist the stage direction not overdo or ‘work so hard’ much animated gesture occurring on stage. Even with mostly good choral and orchestral precision at his disposal, Palumbo hardly brought any identifiable concept to bear upon Macbeth. Whatever the staging conceits, Duncan’s music during Act One did not gradually enter and exit as it played, yet is precisely indicated to do just that.

Murderers’ chorus in residential area park was sufficiently, consistently loud to awaken city block nearby. At times, some Italianita was evident in assisting shaping rhythms, vocal lines. Distortion of accompanying rhythms opening concerted ensemble closing Act Two forced, without anything stopping along the way, Thomas Hampson had to suddenly make funny segue, elision for all to hang together right. Such action made effective something clearly resembling new change of meter – still unfamiliar to me.

Obsequious to singers, Palumbo was most frequently the type to just blithely follow along, while robbing this music of much of its solemnity, terror, its mystery and grandeur. Elaborate was the tethering of flying witches, ghosts attached to guywire above the stage while leaving more imposing, pressing vocal rhetoric de-tethered from orchestral support below, including a crudely pushed sa-shay accompanied sleepwalking scene Choral preparation was left very reliably up to Donald Nally – undercut by minimal observation of Verdi’s dynamic markings. Palumbo remained content to conduct as accompanist to both singers and this production instead of leading Verdi’s Macbeth.

MET: A special helping of broken chinoiserie - Hui He in slipshod re-run of Verdi's Aida 03.04.10 An aside on PBS re-airing of fall Turandot.

It is with the second heaviest Verdi role with which Hui He of Xi’an, China, graduate of Shanghai Conservatory made her Met and Met broadcast debut. She got heard as Tosca in a concert (semi-staged) performance, broadcast with the New York Philharmonic, approximately a year ago, Lorin Maazel conducting.

The part of Aida is versatile in its demands - elusive this way. Hui He made this much clear. It was just partly a case of nerves that obstructed her being able to start well lyrically, for which she placed back too far - to be careful. It thus made for cloudy tone production from her entrance on stage through end of trio with Amneris and Radames. She gained slightly more confidence for the large ensemble and opening of ‘Ritorna, vincitor’ to follow; her tone better opened out and more of a character began to emerge. Persistent pitch problems then began to compromise line; she lacked quite the control to scale voice down where, such as to start “L’inana parola’, the line is marked pianissimo.

There is attractive color here, for instance a smoky colored lower register, but pitch problems at the break and above killed her first go at ‘Numi, pieta’, that fortunately she repeated much better to end Act Two, Scene One. Gentle imploring of Amneris for news of Radames conveyed fine intimacy as same music taken more slowly during ‘Ritorna vincitor’ had in her previous scene. She then however opted for thickening her sound a little much, making intonation suffer once more, this time for her well felt despondent entreaties for mercy to a threatening rival ('Ah! pieta ti prenda').

‘O patria mia’, starting off the Nile Scene, revealed the effect of some wear and tear of singing Aida on essentially a lyric instrument. The right lyrical impetus was present, and feeling for emotions of the character, but for sake of maintaining control through some of the long cantilena in this aria, tone began to turn whitish under pressure and the high C just about misfired completely. Hui He then managed to quickly regain poise for by and large a quite successful Nile duet with Amonasro, with especially some fully spun out lines to close it, that she then made quite affecting. Through ‘Pur ti riveggo’ with Radames, she also revealed well toughness of the slave girl, alongside the vulnerability. Intonation again became for a few phrases very hit-and-miss for Hui He as the second big duet to include her required so much scaling down of the voice. Most revealing of having succumbed to effect of having had run across some questionable training was the reach-from-behind approach to ‘O, terra, addio’ which broke apart the line and again killed intonation, whereas she had started the Tomb Scene well.

Slight glibness apart, including through ‘L’inno nostro di morte’ in this final scene, a real character as Aida started to emerge, in such quasi-heroic attempt at it, but with so much faulty technique to just simply got excessively in the way. Not encumbered by such heavy demands, here is a lovely instrument, but, one would hope, not one to be quickly ruined soon by plethora of Tosca’s, Aidas, Amelia’s, etc. It would be good to report here that, from veterans of Met and other big house Aida’s, there might be some example for Hui He to follow Saturday. However, all to encounter here were only faint to mediocre reminders of what Aida, singing it, is about.

Salvatore Licitra was the Radames, appearing all eager, naïve, ambitious, guileless, stupid as any Radames should for ‘Se guerrier io fossi.’ All this was fine and well, just as long as Lictira did not have to reach much for the break or anything above it. What hint of anything like heroism that Radames should convey, such as from for instance a Bergonzi, fell seriously by the wayside. Licitra did manage to plan here and conserve energy better than he did last year in Munich with Gatti, singing Radames again, but still several high notes emerged as raw, even here. Clipping of ‘Nel fiero anelito’, inelegant lunging for long sustained F’s in Celesta Aida’ and poutish behavior for cabaletta to the Nile scene duet ultimately contributed to one anti-heroic Radames indeed.

In fact, one would have hoped that the priests, others in charge, once betrayal of the Egyptian forces has occurred, might have paused to consider how perhaps little of a factor Radames might have been in securing victory for which he has just been lauded. Once having done so, it might have been easy to release Radames as unworthy to the cause from the get-go to the Ethiopians to join his Aida in smelling i freschi valli of new jungle home down south. We could have then had a happy ending and no Act Four.

Dolora Zajick, for what seems the umpteen hundredth time - wear and tear on her voice to show for it - was the Amneris. She joined Licitra in giving, even solidifying well the following impression of lets say ninety minutes before curtain, loud stretch and yawn, ‘time to get derriere down to Lincoln Center, put on the Egyptian, and give it all once more what they came for..’ In other words, for the most part, other than to phone Amneris in, the cause was lost. ‘Hmm - how shall we nuance ‘Ah, vieni’ today? Let’s perhaps place each succeeding one even still a little further back from previous one this time.’ How imaginative! What extra gilding Zajick gave them did however succeed in derailing intonation. Zajick comfortably coasted through the ‘Trema, vil schiava’s’ of Act Two, Scene One, then after nice pause for extra half a second from Armiliato, indulged us of her chest voice on ‘Del tuo destino’, that starts and remains comfortably lower.

Marco Armiliato gave Zajick a fairly breezy tempo for cabaletta in the Judgment scene, instead of abetting her clipping it, such as happened earlier here in Houston. The forza for it still got compromised quite a bit. For arioso to precede trial of Radames, Zajick varied between good garden variety verismo and giving the princess’s special voicing of desperation for hope a few shimmers of real insight. There is still indeed an Amneris here, even quite the voice for it, though with chest register more separate from the rest than before, and one looking as though en route to shadow of her former glorious self.

Carlo Colombara made the lyrically achieved Ramfis, achieving proper gravitas and menace for some pages - temple scene with Radames for instance - and compromised, reach-from-above intonation for the rest of it. The profile for what once has been a very fine voice for the part is still there, but some edges now begin to show. Invocations of Radames’s name eventually went completely sharp. Stefan Kocan played the somewhat nasal, Slavic toned King of Egypt quite firmly, but also with minor intonation problems.

Carlo Guelfi energetically fletcherized a bit to put forth a fully rounded Amonasro across the footlights. Other than for several key lines, for instance at the end of the Nile duet with Aida, top notes were unsteady and sense of legato patchy at best. Clearly what continues mostly a character-baritone profile of the embattled and enslaved Ethiopian king emerged here. My expectations for Guelfi were lowest of all, but in context of this cast, he hardly did poorly at all. All three lowest male voices in this cast sounded best in negotiating exchange of recitative toward end of the Triumphal Scene, following Guelfi’s unwritten doubling of Hui He on all instead of part of her long second phrase to repeat what Amonasro just had in full to himself for ‘Ma, tu Re.’ He sounded, non legato, two dynamic levels louder than she did.

More heroic sounding than anybody else in the cast was the Messenger of Diego Torres, perhaps the one unqualified success here. Could he have been a double for Licitra? What could have things been like, had he been able to fill in? The Priestess (Elisabeth DeShong) however was a case, all the way around, of blatant disregard. Nobody, from the podium to backstage showed any evidence of care for how the music is marked, in terms of dynamics, balances, placement, or anything else. DeShong blasted her way through this at an unyielding fortissimo – not making enviable at all where the new Chinese soprano may have stood within grand scheme of things.

After cancellation of Paolo Cargnani just slightly within one week of this run, came on Marco Armiliato to conduct this instead. Heavily misplaced accents in segue off the Judgment Scene duet for one revealed that, for Armiliato, there was nothing other than perhaps cosmetic that needed fixing since Gatti, the far more glorified (and more willful) routiniere who conducted this last fall.

The affectation, mannerisms with Armliato up there in Gatti’s place was at times exactly the same, as I have heard in a Munich Aida and more painfully the La Scala Don Carlo. The Met chorus most often sounded thin and unfocused. Strings were a bit ragged, even for prelude to Act One and mezzo-forte for what should be the magical opening of the Nile scene. Many phrase endings were loud and crude, often to a truly unwarranted extent, i.e. toward end of ‘Ma, tu Re’ during the Triumphal Scene for stretto right before closing phrase. This was shouted to extent that brief line of chord progression therein could have been mistaken for writing out of Utrenja or Moses und Aaron instead.

Obsequious yielding to his singers on stage, when in violation of Verdi’s rhythms, came across highly insipid. Dance episodes during the first two acts were clunky - the dance of the priestesses flat-footed and loud. Amneris’s slaves, even as looking forward to a few special privileges in lieu of the day being prep for her nuptials with Radames, sounded tired and disengaged – with loud, clunky harp to accompany them. What the Met orchestra and chorus has been able to offer before in terms of refinement under Levine and others seemed to have exited for left field entirely. The grandeur of such an occasion, to see Aida at the Met, with chorus sounding at times so thin, went almost entirely missing. Ira Siff’s comparative evaluation of this cast - for it to have been just as good for us in our own day as Toscanini’s of the 1908-09 season (Destinn, Louise Homer, Caruso) had been for that time, Verdi’s Aida notwithstanding - hit a new low.

Desecration from earlier this Met season of again a true masterpiece - what has so often now been left bowdlerized, with still the Toscanini butchered Alfano ending to it, was on display on PBS this evening. When bare-chested Pu-Tin-Pao came on stage, in the stage directions, for the Liu, I thought he could have been headed for either the somewhat raw sounding Turandot (Maria Guleghina) or Calaf (Marcello Giordani) instead, for what had happened to the shape of so many of Puccini’s phrases, pitch, etc. Andris Nelsons (Met debut), with deft touch for some of Puccini’s sonorities, made something close to muzak of the rest. - in place of ability for the modernism of Puccini’s score to make it to the fore. After shaky ensemble for passacaglia to flaccidly end Act One, one then picked up real garden variety Tommy Dorsey waltz of just about the entire Riddle Scene to end Act Two.

In Berlioz’s day, should this Turandot have occurred in Beijing then, someone would have had to step in to save even Nelsons, lest he not have been able to leave Tian’anmen with ears and nose intact after likely encounter with Pu-Tin Pao himself Otherwise, what would we be able to make today of what Berlioz wrote on the subject of penalties for desecrators? The Liu (Marina Poplavaskaya) practically or artistically emerged the victor of the day, even with her own moments of questionable intonation. Pu-Tin-Pao still perhaps had score to settle with her - for her execrable Elisabetta in Don Carlo weeks earlier in London.

The Zeffirelli, with the three ministers doing ‘this is what we do to look Chinese for the tourists’ act, looked as silly as any production of his has ever looked, all the excessive dancing around and posing with fans hardly less. Nelsons took the same bad cut to the ministers’ scene opening Act Two as usually taken. No gravitas was able to be found for anything, least of all either the tone of Samuel Ramey or Charles Anthony as senior figures on stage, or as to what Puccini’s final opera could have meant. It would have hardly mattered if the highly relevant Berio finale of today could have been performed. With both the staging and Nelson’s mix of chartreuse into Puccini’s sonorities, even for Puccini composed like he did – the cause would have most likely been lost anyway. What Turandot might offer in terms of grandeur got compromised by road-show quality work (including in number on stage) from the Met chorus.