MET: Saturday afternoon dress rehearsal of Elektra oratorio by Strauss

Word traveled quickly that this was to be as detailed an Elektra in orchestral conception as we might ever run across today – since Giuseppe Sinopoli conducted the opera for DGG (and perhaps several other places as well) some years ago. Deborah Voigt was in considerably finer voice then than as heard today. Now, and after hearing Luisi brilliantly do Alpine Symphony with Staatskapelle Dresden from the Proms last summer, one could only surmise that such take on what was about to be heard today and probably throughout this run was something a publicity person may have picked up either first or second-hand from rehearsal sessions, limited as they most likely were. Dramatic intensity together with current of neuroticism that should infiltrate got cut off for most of the 106 minutes of this – with usual stage cuts taken.

One stage cut was most certainly necessary today - that during 'Was bluten muss?' - as Susan Bullock could have, like other sopranos attempting it, easily come to grief with it otherwise. Impetus from Fabio Luisi for unearthing so much that this score has to offer was clearly present - picked up well in the more obviously translucent passages of Elektra. A too easy tendency toward arched crescendos and hatchet downbeats on strong chords was a little more exaggerated than would normally indicate a well rehearsed performance of this. There were numerous lines in this Elektra, in the second Chrysothemis scene for instance that had the attentiveness, nuance, ease that would not make it into completely making connection with more forceful outbursts. Such sudden moments in this score break in at what can often seem at less than a moment's notice to many listeners.

It is the business of the Met orchestra not to sound as though unawares at all on such an essential staple of the repertoire as this. Numerous places, such as for howling, barking dogs, heaves, groans, flute untethered tremolo hallucinatory flourishes in central scene with Klytaemnestra Luisi attempted to bring out, but got anywhere from emerging halfway to mostly smothered instead. One need not even lightly italicize to the extent that Sinopoli does with the VPO on DGG to make such places count, at from Sinopoli only mild threat of breaking up the line. Numerous orchestras however, including the Met itself seven years ago under Levine with orchestra in top form if still an Elektra not cast especially well (except Voigt and Pape as Orest and partly Hanna Schwarz as the queen) have done better. They have certainly more meaningfully, with company under Joe Volpe’s oversight previous Saturday Elektra aired considerably more naturally brought so much more nuance out as well – all due to better rehearsal standards.

Even moments of incisive dialogue such as concerning Orest keeping company with dogs in Atrean stables and of demeaning the manhood of Aegisth by Elektra got halfway blown off. One heard the pitches, the text, but the meaning of it all just rather glibly sauntered by. Elektra’s digging for the axe in anticipation of Orest's arrival just almost sounded jackhammer enough that one could have assumed a woman at it with the biceps of George Forman or Mike Tyson; rushing up and down of cellos and basses anticipating the murder of Klytaemnestra was competently played but still unsubtle, and also broke tension by starting too loud. David Chan’s hallucinatory concertmaster solos in scene with Klytaemnestra were at first covered up, then unsubtly projected over orchestra playing still slightly too loudly not to cover them up otherwise. This was largest indication thus far that Luisi did not get the significant time he needed with his forces.

Luisi indicated numerous times his grasp of the elaborate harmonic scheme behind Elektra, a good if broad sweep to the line, very likely broader and less specific than he would have preferred. The opera he was to originally conduct at the Met this season was Frau ohne schatten. There was often specific shape to the line so much so that one could imagine how much better and ornately adorned it all could have been, if given the time - such as was heard from the Proms last summer for Alpine Symphony – ‘Alpine’ that alludes to both Elektra and Frau at once in a few places.

The best quasi-indication of under-rehearsed conditions was a tendency to underline places somewhat too conspicuously, such as during the first scene with Chrysothemis. With the very thorough time that Luisi has justifiably spent in Richard Strauss, one should hope to hear him do Elektra again, but under more favorable conditions than provided here. This was not so much badly played as just so often a tentatively, phlegmatically engaged account of Elektra – not good enough for what is deemed by Meg and Ira and also many others too to be the best opera orchestra in the world. Luisi and Dresden proved last summer, by comparison to this, how much better an opera orchestra it often is – with Alpine Symphony – some of the Orest music from Elektra intoned so beautifully today by the Met brass, to which it alludes.

The cast today proved very routiniere. Susan Bullock, had I tuned in unawares of who was in this today, could have had me imagine I was hearing Deborah Voigt as Elektra from ten or fifteen years ago, except for an aging Debbie as Chrysothemis standing right next to her, probably looking at the conductor like the Elektra too could have so much of the time. From comment I picked up from across room where I was listening to this, they each could have been trained out of the same school of Banshees as well. As much as I would hope against Voigt attempting Elektra so long ago or at any time really, same must also go for Bullock. Here is a voice for sure too light for this from singer willing to mostly coast through it, drawing with obvious effort upon what limited resources she has available to get through this.

Mid-register sounded hollow, low notes slightly choked, often weak, and a conspicuous spread almost always emitted through the passaggio. Passage such as the fleeting seduction of Aegisth, which calls on the Elektra to relax vocally emerged with good irony and revealed late in the day some acting ability on Bullock’s part, opposite an unpleasant Wolfgang Schmidt, barking off pitch at times - hardly more unpleasant than perhaps should be expected of Aegisth. Otherwise, singing and acting on Bullock's part made an overall bland impression. As opposed to what others have written - as opposed also to what Schmidt has given us before as Siegfried - Schmidt was not the problem today – certainly no more than any of the rest of this.

Deborah Voigt, in place of succeeding at a more aggressive, frontal approach towards Chrysothemis, emerged with just mostly harsh and unfocused tone instead. The middle voice, pushed so, immediately turned vinegary and strident. Whereas the voice freed up nicely to spin off a few high B’s and B-flats, especially toward the end of the opera, numerous of them could have easily come off differently. Low notes - scary to reckon for Susan Bullock - for Voigt came off no differently than for Bullock herself - dry, hollow, cracked - even almost choked at times. Voigt, as heard in Four Last Songs with DSO Berlin last summer, can still sound good, when not being compelled to press down – so hard at times here as though trying to compete dramatically with Bullock. Releases off notes were often unreliable from both women. Evgeny Nikitin (Orest) slightly reminded of Tom Krause on the deemed classic forty-three year old (though slightly over-rated) Solti recording. One could appreciate well Nikitin’s dark tone for Orest, but diction was mildly questionable and legato just cut or two above patchwork at times. Still, he won sympathy for the very ominously destined brother - in anticipation of brutal task before him.

Of the supporting cast, all three men were fine, John Easterlin and Kevin Burdette as Young and Old Servants over glibly, heavily italicized trounce through it orchestrally, and especially Oren Gradus again as Tutor to Orest from also the 2002 Levine broadcast. Rehearsed well right beforehand was the start of the ‘Orest ist tot’ introduction to the same scene, but like with so much else, follow-through was conspicuously weak. Maria Zifchak and Wendy Bryn Harmer as Third and Fourth Maids emerged the best of their lot, with a fine Overseer in, conspicuously enough, Susan Neves. Jennifer Check, as Fifth Maid, sounded outside of her element today – in comparison with her participation in Il Trittico two weeks ago.

Just listening to this, set design for the long central scene with Klytaemenestra could have just as well moved onto the floor of Chippendale’s with the rattled queen of Felicity Palmer - by now somewhat of an institution unto herself. Seen recently on disc as so fussed over, italicized to death her Zita in Gianni Schicchi under Annabel Arden and Valdimir Jurowski was, this is not surprising. No doubt, Palmer has walked the boards of the rattled queen numerous times by now. Opposite what was promised by Meg and Ira during very gratefully an abbreviated edition of the Meg and Ira show, Palmer this time gave us a Klytaemenestra from, colloquially speaking, exaggeratedly the Regina Resnik school of singing it. There was here considerably less solidity tonally - less of a solid core altogether - and less subtlety with words for sure than with either Brigitte Fassbaender for Abbado or Resnik in the part. She lightened up to attempt winning sympathy for the queen in moments of tender reminiscence of long departed happier times; much of the rest of this came close to being barked.

‘Ich habe keine gute Nachte’ ended for an entire line down in C Minor a quarter-tone flat. Having admired Palmer well for so much in the past, her Klytaemnestra included, I reckon today that other than for cameo parts and Countess in Pique-Dame, it may be getting close to time for Palmer to hang it up. For old time's sake, let us save such a Klytaemnestra for camp on PBS British sitcom or something even slightly more debauched.

Meg, alongside Ira, rewrote history in indicating Elektra as having been written nearly a hundred years ago, which if it had been done so, would have put it after Rosenkavalier. Anton Webern no less found Rosenkavalier highly admirable but recidivist after Elektra. And then there had to be the ‘back stories’, except in the case of the Oresteia, these are not really such back stories at all. For tragedies that have been out in the open to cool and dry off in the sun drenched air (with taint of olive oil) over ruins for two millennia now – add on a few centuries as well - one expects a little more or at least should.. For acting subtlety purposes, perhaps even Felicity Palmer, even with estimable knowledge of her part could have used a little consultation by Susan Flannery on how to get it right.

For acting that ranged from broad to glibly passed over (as so inconsistent to have made this conceivable as heard as merely a concert performance), much of Elektra today could have passed as some bizarre, past life episode of something or other around 12 Noon weekdays. At this point should Flannery, certainly with many back stories of her own and for her character too to offer, be at all a fan of opera, I would welcome her on any Saturday afternoon in the place of slap-happy eager Margaret Juntwait. I certainly would hope then she might take up the offer. Fine to hear from you, Susan, just as long as you read the libretto, plus some pages of historical background, commentary before coming on the air.

- Comments dedicated to Lai Tzi-Huei at Cambridge - who attended a near-definitive Stk Dresden Alpine at the Proms last summer - and especially to Edo De Waart, who gave Jones Hall (in Houston) an immaculately rehearsed and absolutely complete Rosenkavalier for HGO in co-production with Netherlands thirty-five years ago here.

Met 2009-10 opening broadcast: Puccini's Il Trittico - and perhaps other tales of being naughty to fabricate

For opening the new Met broadcast season, we got revisited the Jack O’Brien production of Trittico from near end of third season ago. Redolent of Zeffirelli’s legacy at the Met, this production accomplishes providing congenially ample, detailed backdrop to the action, while allowing each of the three stories in this to conventionally work out against it. Where this idea of producing Trittico fell short the most in 2007, it also did here, even if less so than before, with Il Tabarro. David Cangelosi (Il Tinca) incisively excited yet again minimal passion - just assumed to be enough on which to get by - from Salvatore Licitra (Luigi). Paul Plishka made his crusty vocal state apparent as Il Talpa and Stephanie Blythe just minimally more insightful her casual romp through La Frugola,

We all know that Licitra is not a Del Monaco in either weight or volume, but there is still something to be made of Luig, more than coasting through it. He even took his murderous altercation with Michele matter-of-fact. Luigi’s pent-up anger can still cut through an overall countenance of vulnerability. Licitra’s affable tone was pleasant, except for strained high notes, but it all related yet again close to nothing as Luigi.

Zeljko Lucic, fine recent Macbeth for Levine, was Michele.. His best assets were his dark tone, evenness of articulation and seriousness about assignment as stevedore boss. Except for slight strain in achieving a few high notes, Lucic was still confident in achieving the overall tessitura. What quickly became apparent too, in catching the introversion of a good Michele, was a constant emotional reserve that missed some change of mood and color (harmony) here and there, for instance in Michele’s attempt to draw some fresh warmth out of the Giorgetta right next to him. The end of his arioso “Resto vicino a me” emerged more as vocal achievement than anything else - his brief line of ‘squaldrina’ (‘whore”) so mulled over and laughter at the very end in revealing to Giorgetta her dead lover - somewhat a misplaced Karloff or Vincent Price applied irony - highly doubtful here. Not all was lost. Lucic stopped well short of making caricature of Michele, in delivering vocal eloquence, and some sense of inner frustration and anguish.

Patricia Racette, essaying all three soprano leads, came across most curious as Giorgetta. After Stratas and Scotto, she becomes the third to do so, all three at once, at the Met. Malfitano also did for Chicago some nearly ten years ago. Lower register for Giorgetta means the most that it does for any of the three leads. Racette gratefully found some reserves upon which to draw that way. Middle register came across grainy and hollow, but curiously enough with less pitch problems than afflicted her Cio-Cio San last season. Passaggio and higher were still unstable, even with. sympathy for Giorgetta’s frustration and plight still made clearly apparent. Similar to Paoletta Marrocu’s Giorgetta for Chailly, there was touch of soubrette, though partly thanks to incredibly insightful staging at La Scala put to more specific use there than here. An all knowing earnestness to Giorgetta in how Racette played this also worked against her and perhaps also against our sympathies as well. Racette muted expected passion for Luigi and expression of desire for freedom from situation in which Giorgetta finds herself.

The Patricia Racette - as publicity writes - that dissolved into each heroine in Trittico, came about most, if still overtly so, as Angelica. Some quavery tone compromised both her opening offstage solo and start to refrain of “I desideri sono i fiori del vivi,” but with the latter a fully formed individual indeed emerged the most it had yet in this Trittico. Racette very well found somber color and warmth for the episode with the wasp stung sister, and very well too beseeching tone, moments of hysteria and deep sadness so well by end of central scene with the Princess. “Senza mamma” was felt to just significant extent from within, deeply moving, but compromised by two things – too much sobbing, gasping during orchestral interlude for slow exit of the aunt soon before and tone incapable of placing quite right - getting stuck in groove on sustained notes near the break. One had to admire how very closely Racette listened Saturday for intonation, for it not to go so far astray as for Butterfly and Don Carlo still recently from the Met.

One could also suspect some copying of Scotto’s interpretation – noticeably so in the death scene. Scotto, well understood by Racette, conveys on disc how different from her it is interpretively, given her personality and what different feeling she would have for Angelica from more culturally inbred information she naturally had for the part. Scotto was still not ultimately more a genuine Angelica than Racette. Racette invested tremendous adrenaline into making the last twenty minutes of this work the way they did for her, to be able to issue forth tone and also line of some quality from deep below and the larynx. She did so in such a way that could have risked for her more damage than already some faulty technique over so much time. Her Lauretta, while sincere, in Gianni Schicchi, sounded both mature and knowing, with persistent wobble above the staff.

Here was still an estimable achievement - one, doing all three heroines in one night, not easy at all – one often resulting in one compromise or another – with the dangerous tessitura in Angelica and considerable difference between how all three parts are written. Barbara Frittoli had the more even tone and legato, more restrained poise as Angelica in 2007, making something, mildly remindful of Tebaldi, equally moving of it then.

Wendy White and Barbara Dever repeated their Monitor and Novices ‘assistant principal’ from two years back - authoritatively so. White had the steadier tone and air of authority and sympathy - Dever the chestier, mildly more incisive, with crack to the sound in issuing reprimands hither and yond – remindful perhaps of how Fedora Barbieri sounded at it. Heidi Grant Murphy, occasionally exposing some thinness of sound, filled such out in echoing some of what had preceded her from Racette on early refrain with very convincing warmth; she ideally found the naïve, sad, and charming simplicity of Genoveffia to near Cotrubas levels. The musical and interpretative growth of this artist, through the Angel for Metzmacher in Messiaen last year at the Proms has been something lately very noteworthy. Tamara Mumford was still stern but more warmly authoritative as the Abbess, toward fitting new interpretative profile for upcoming meeting between Angelica and the Princess than the more incisively stern Patricia Risley in 2007. The two lay sisters lacked sufficient intonation, but two alms sisters expressively won our sympathies, as did the sweet toned Dolcina (Jennifer Check).

Alright! Time now for Steffi – not the one on ABC News– as to help kick off now a new season of the Meg and Ira show. What is to make of such incomplete synopsis with full interview cut-ins of Miss Blythe? Are we then to start on episode of One Life to Live or Guiding Light? Reckless daughter of estate shows up to then be informed of dead child – notification, herb preparation on Friday, suicide on the Monday. I mean, is this Miss Blythe or could it be instead Stephanie Forrester (or better yet if she could still sing – Maureen Forrester)? With all the consultants, publicity the Met hires, why not Susan Flannery? At one point, I was fully expecting news of hot dates out on the town for cocktails with young, dashing Albanian tenor before all got said and done – excesses that Ms. Flannery might recall for her character – or perhaps own personal life as well?

Sure, there are back stories to any character here, but if you will, please show me where in the music. We should not be getting melodramatic excess for scene with the Princess either; both ways quickly turn to bathos all the same. Almost churlish to mention it, but the one Trittico I have run across that most successfully avoided both potential problems for this scene was with Barbara Frittoli and the more aged sounding Marjana Lipovsek for Chailly and Ronconi. Certainly, Miss Blythe has grown in her understanding of the part, but vis-à-vis the music, somehow sounded distracted this time, as she also did so much as informed by byplay with Saimir Pirgu during Gianni Schicchi. We can fully surmise that Zita has done much the same thing in gathering up a few potentially undocumented immigrants herself. Here is indeed a real artist - with the fine voice, beautiful technique and stamina Miss Blythe offers. Churlish though it may be to mention it, but since Ronconi/Chailly, nobody at the Met has come up with any better. In the music of Trittico, as well in theater linguistics, there are what are called gaps. Come to think of it, it is the midcult pop mysticism of how the Met’s Suor Angelica ends that by now has become rather silly, as much as anything else.

In film technique that Trittico, out of all Puccini wrote, may have influenced the most, one has suture to fill in gaps mentioned, suture that protects or consoles us from encounter with the Real, on Jacques Lacan terms. Here so much of society is made up of the entire hierarchy of the family, the convent, the whole social order running things that in place of that insufficiency, there is also trace or stain of mysticism that Luca Ronconi uses that functions as suture in its place. Suture provides the role of something that may in a way symbolically provide some validation underneath the rest in the vicinity of the destitution of so much even in our midst. We do not need back stories. Many of us have lived life and have also seen more than enough soap opera. It makes for great coddling to bring up the Princess’s back stories, may even win new audiences, but such also, I have a flash, protects us too from work of art itself as well as from any real encounter with it thereof. The structure, the integrity, the aesthetic of Puccini’s music may demand a little more– but what do I know? Disregard what I say. Bring Susan Flannery on!

Turning at last to Gianni Schicchi, after tallying it all up, if one had to name most successful artist here, the answer is obvious – Alessandro Corbelli. I hope saying so lends some credence to hope that we need a new dvd out of this with him cast as Schicchi. The one dvd featuring him in this is so unsatisfactory, as to not generate any real humor or laughter at all.

Saimir Pirgu was the sweet toned, lyrical, astutely minded and phrased Rinuccio – better than I remember him from the broadcast of the L.A. Trittico with Thomas Allen fine in the title role. He understated “Avete torto”, to sincerely affect modesty - especially with Miss Blythe not far away, but then rose with good chutzpah for the aria’s closing lines, and soared freely, doubling a wobbly Racette for closing refrain on the balcony. Blythe – more broad than specific to character - some nagging inability thus far to ideally find the part of Zita in her voice - and Racette I have mentioned already.

Donato di Stefano repeated his sense of cross between gravitas and parody of such to perfection as Simone. Patrick Carfizzi went out of his way to make Betto appear crotchety, while incisive with his words. Patricia Risley and Jennifer Check had in each their individual manner the dolcezza for Ciesca and Nella. Risley on purpose made something more clearly hypocritical of Ciesca, to great humorous effect – both artists repeats from last time. Paul Plishka evinced comic gifts very well as the doctor, James Courtney haughty, equally benighted sense of authority as the notary to risible effect.

As for Stefano Ranzani, he offered more a mixed bag, in terms of results, than did Levine in 2007. There were elements of each drama for which he showed sympathy, others that eluded him. His Il Tabarro, while Levine indeed gave us cleaner ensemble and more secure downbeats, had the earthier, grittier quality to it. Hanging this Trittico on the broad panoramas of the O’Brien production is tricky, to say the least, also its great charm that helped trip up Levine. More it was issues perhaps on how to ideally coordinate it all with at times temptation to still apply the broad brush that may have eluded Ranzani. Sense of what harmonic changes occur and how they fit and interact, attendant on shifts in light of the early evening sky and of mood of the river below require in Il Tabarro a little more rubato than Ranzani felt comfortable offering us. Even while tentative, Ranzani's feel for color and atmosphere was much preferable to that of Levine.

Levine found the more Gallic delicacy, luminous quality of sonority for Suor Angelica, the opening of which Ranzani, too broad, made just generically plush. Opening sonorities, slow current of pulsation underneath, to avoid things starting flat-line for bird call as halo above, got compromised. As the convent came to life however, so did Ranzani, with him supporting his singers well and finding together with fine supporting cast the simplicity of their lines. Ranzani then mustered up the vitality to support Racette in full, though hinting at sinking all into bathos – especially if all had gone more broadly than it had already.

Schicchi turned out probably best for Ranzani, though one had to wait to hear forthright enough the boisterous laugh that opens the dramma giocoso until it would repeat after the new will had been read. Corbelli was firing off on all cylinders here, so nobody could have done anything at this point but follow him.

“Avete torto” lacked rhythmic swagger - chords underneath to potentially lend things more oomph than anybody at first mustered for it. Much of the parody, wit of the story still made it across the footlights incisively, if slightly more awkwardly at several junctures than with Levine. Evident here was more a rambunctious eccentricity of the writing. Ranzani capped all off with gorgeous sense of twilight for young couple over sight of Il Duomo and all Florence behind them - nostalgia laden morbidezza from the strings on aching consequent, followed by speech and boisterous close to everything.

Corbelli had the greater freedom at the Met – than on dvd - especially this time, in investing Schicchi, marking the bitterness in the writing, with the peasant manner of the guy with utmost simplicity. This included in his specific dealing with each family member and with those helping tend to business. His was most of all the great wit, savage at times, especially during the reading of the will, and ingenuity. The part has deepened for him - perhaps a virtue or two of the Glyndebourne Schicchi I have overlooked. Next to this at the Met, it looks and feels so very stiff, whereas at the Met Corbelli is free.

Jack O’Brien does not quite have the complete picture in giving us such a naturalistic approach. There is so much, with all its intentional gaps this piece has, so few of those underlined by Puccini, easy to miss. The casual, glib, quasi-Broadway manner with Il Tabarro shortchanges it - such as would be an outing by the nouveau riche to do the radical chic thing and go slumming through the lower depths. In all perspective, much of the story still does get told, though missing what may indeed lie beneath its surface. I found Ira a bit derisive at intermission about idea of allowing room for a (small) barge onstage. Well, it so happens, Ira, that the music in Il Tabarro does obsess somewhat with the river; should one crowd out the river for magnificent panorama of Paris, then one could have missed or have significantly undercut something – Puccini’s music.

Alessandro Corbelli may have walked to a triumph here, albeit a bit vocally thicker as Schicchi than previously at the Met, but free as he ever has been at anything before – and absolutely hilarious. He will agree– why Ronconi and Chailly were so incredibly successful at this in Milan – that the hero at end of day with Il Trittico is always still Giacomo Puccini.