Gergiev and the LSO

Jessica Duchen responds to critics who dispute her comment that "Gergiev is simply head and shoulders above most other conductors of his generation". Her experience is no doubt greater than mine and I enjoy reading her blog (and I've just about forgiven her for the "greedy windbags" crack), so I'm happy that I agree with her.

I personally find Gergiev pretty erratic, but the moments that everything gels are something truly special. The first act of this spring's Met Walküre was one of the greatest single acts of opera that I've ever heard (ok, Domingo and Dalayman helped). Unfortunately the inspiration decreased markedly in the following acts. A Prokofiev concert I heard in London last year (with the LSO) was a similar experience (but in reverse). The Fourth Symphony which opened the program was perfectly acceptable reading, but the Fifth that followed the interval was thrilling and about as exciting playing one might hear. Other performances I've been to (mostly opera) were edge-of-the-seat exciting, but sometimes because you thought it was going to fall apart any minute (although it never did).

I do hope to hear what Gergiev does with this great orchestra.

The voice of angel

It was a publicist's invention (based on a musical request from Toscanini), but it WAS true. Hers was one of the most beautiful and exciting voices to be heard on any stage or recording and it was in tribute to her that many fans, friends and colleagues met at Alice Tully Hull last night.

Anna Moffo hosted and there were reminiscences by Marilyn Horne, Roberta Peters, Jon Vickers (on tape), Rudolph Giuliani, Christopher Raeburn and Aprile Millo. Carlo Bergonzi spoke (translated by Moffo) and then offered a sung tribute of the Schubert Ave Maria, in which he showed flashes of the old voice and legato (but it would have been better had he learned the words). There were other live performances by Wendy Bryn Harmer, Anthony Dean Griffey and most notably a beautiful D'amore sull'ali rosee by Sandra Radvanovsky.

But the highlight was, as it should have been, Tebaldi. There were a generous number film clips of performances, some of which hadn't been seen or heard for some time (including a wonderful clip from a Peace day tribute in 1958 at the U.N. General Assembly with Leonard Bernstein conducting her in Pace, Pace mio Dio and Donde lieta uscì). The sound of these and her voices were amazingly vivid. Anyone who thinks that Tebaldi was not an actress and just made beautiful sounds needs just to watch her face to see her comittment and joy in expressing herself in music. Listen to the way she forms and understands the text and the emotion behind the words. Her gestures may have been a times a bit stitled, but behind every note was the full force and meaning of what she was singing.

I never heard her live, she retired from the operatic stage the year I heard my first Met performance, but I have always lived and enjoyed her performances. I met her once, a day I'll never forget that day. It was Dec. 13, 1995 and early that morning I'd heard that Nancy LaMott, a singer I much admired and loved, had died. Tebaldi was signing copies of a biography at the HMV store on Fifth Avenue and I waited on line for a few hours to see her. She looked radiant and beautiful, just as I'd seen her in many a photograph and she greeted every one of her fans with grace and charm, obviously touched that so many had come out to see her.

The tribute last night ended with a film of the opening of the last act of Otello, the role which opened and closed her Met career. As the end of the Ave Maria trailed off and she lay down to her rest, I was wrecked. We shall not see her like again soon.

More Faust

Sometimes I get obsessive and this week its about Faust. After listening to the Busser/Vezzani recording, I spent the past few days with Sutherland/Corelli/Ghiaurov and Bonynge.

I hadn't heard this one in many years and it had a number of surprises for me. The text of the opera is absolutely complete. While it's good to hear a few of the new bits but I see no particular reason to resurrect them on a regular basis. They add little and extend an already long opera.

As to the singing: sadly I find Sutherland badly miscast. Verbal acuity was never her long suit and in her hands Marguerite comes through as a series of incomprehensible (but beautiful) sounds, with no meaning. It is a totally uninterested and uninteresting performance. Ghiaurov was in is vocal prime and then the voice was one of the glories of the stage. He rolls forth with huge, beautiful sound. Unfortunately here he relies on volume rather than subtlety and ultimately this becomes wearing. It's great and exciting to hear, but easier to take in small doses. When he re-recorded the role later with Pretre, Freni and Domingo, he was vocally less fresh, but more characterful and interesting. Massard is a fine Valentin and the others put in acceptable, if not exceptional performances.

This recording is made for me, by the Faust of Franco Corelli. I say this with disbelief since in general I find his attempts at the French repertoire unsuccessful. I have a broadcast Werther of his that is just unlistenable. But for some reason I really like this Faust. One has to accept early on that his French is pretty lousy and stylistically it is miles away from Vezzani or Thill. But musically he is on his best behaviour (little of the scooping and sliding that makes me cringe), his voice is big and beautiful and his performance is exciting and committed. I loved it.

So for style, this recording is not one to which one would look. But for a thrilling and beautiful performances of the title role, it's worth a hear.

Paying attention

I've received a few comments about my earlier Karl Haas posting. I appreciate them as I appreciated him. During my sojourn to Florida this past weekend I got to hear one of his archived programs. One of the things that I loved about his programs is that he tried to describe how to listen to a piece of music. He never got in the way, but tried, through his commentary, to increase our understanding.

I have a terrible confession to make. For many years I was a person who often would put on instrumental music as I read, did laundry or did some sort of work. I could never use vocal music, singer that I am I could never concentrate with it on, but orchestral or piano music could easily serve as background music for just about any activity.

Of course, as a result, I never heard any of it. It was just there. But recently things have changed. I can no longer listen to any music and not hear it. I find I can no longer read and have music on because I am always distracted by the music. These days, I 'm getting a lot of enjoyment from purely instrumental (non-vocal) concerts and changing the ratio of vocal to non-vocal music in my life.

Which is why I'm puzzled by such inventions as the Concert Companion. I'm certainly no luddite. Friends call me a gadget junkie. I never go anywhere without my cellphone, iPod (or equivalent), my Clié and my Blackberry (which has just about ruined my life, but more on that another time). I also fervently read program notes, arriving early at concerts just to have time to take them in (or more recently printing them out from a venue's web site). But the point to me is to do all that activity before the concert, not during. During the concert is for concentrating on the music making and enjoying the music. I rarely even follow the score (unless it is a very new piece to me), just because I long to let the music-making wash over me and observe every bit of sweat going into every note. I think it makes me a more attentive and ultimately more fulfilled listener.

It just seems like giving someone something to do during the concert is on the wrong track.

Checking in

I've been away from both my home and the internet for a few days, with not much to report. I did see Britten's The Little Sweep in a wonderfully well done production at the Sarasota Opera's Youth Opera. Done mostly with kids, there is some real talent there and I wouldn't be surprised if we heard from one or two of them in the future. I also suspect that more than a few of them will also develop a love of opera as a result. Bravi tutti!

I've also be giving the Vezzani, Journet, Berthon, Busser Faust another listen (since I was in the mood). I was struck that it is more complete that the recent Met performances, lacking only the Spinning Scene (and perhaps a cut or two in the Walpurgisnacht). This is no wimpy Faust, but a very vital (if occasionally strained) performance. Journet is characterful even if his voice betrays his age a bit (it is still remarkable at 63 though).

My "Alagna doppelgänger", generated a little more traffic (thank you Sarah!). I've also added some new links: Patty Mitchell's Oboe Insight as well as Simon's A Piece of Monologue.

Does anyone else see a resemblance?

P.S. I just discovered that Roberto Alagna recorded a song by Harpo Marx on his Christmas Album. Coincidence? I think not...

Changing Taste

I saw Faust at the Met last night and if there was any doubt (and I didn't have any) it was perfectly clear that Rene Pape is the bass for our time. Everyone else was very good too (Brava Kris!).

Faust is an interesting case. When I first started going to the opera around (ahem) 30 years ago, it was fairly ubiquitous. I saw it several times at NewYork City Opera and it was regularly in the Met repertoire. It is well known that it was the opera that opened the Met and for years that house was known as the Faustspielhaus.

But more than any other standard opera it seems to have fallen from favor. I did a quick search of the Met database over the past 50 or so years and if these performance totals are any indication (and I think it is) , it is startling. From 1950-60, 88 performances; 1960-70, 62 performances; 1970-80, 41 performances; 1980-90, 13 performances and 1990-2000, 20 performances, while during the same period Aida averaged about 100 performances or more, a decade.

I think this is mirrored in the lack of complete recordings. The arkivmusic.com database lists only 20, the majority of which are "live recordings". Of the studio efforts the pickings are slim.

Faust was maybe the 3rd or 4th opera recording I owned, in the NLA Columbia/Metropolitan Opera version with Eleanor Steber, Eugene Conley and Cesare Siepi (who so deserved a better and more complete recording than this). The performance is perfectly fine, though Conley is a respectable, but not exciting tenor. It is actually amazing to think that two of the major Fausts of the 40s and 50s at the Met, Björling and DiStefano, both of whom are extensively documented in other roles, never commercially recorded this part. Thankfully live versions are available. DiStefano's diminuendo on the high C in Salut! has to be heard to be believed and I prefer Bj¨rling's earlier broadcast with Kirsten to the later one with Söderström (he transposes the high C a full step here). My benchmark performances are of course the set of excerpts with Caruso and Journet and the earliest commercial recording with Vezzani (whose timbre I find so interesting) and Journet again. I never really warmed to the De Los Angeles/Gedda versions, primarily because of Christoff.

I like Faust, but when it comes to it, I'm more puzzled by its earlier prominence than its current neglect. It is a great role for an overpowering bass and with nice arias for the soprano, tenor and bass, but as a dramatic piece it falls fairly flat. For me the highlight is the church scene, if it is committedly done. The final trio is an effective, if manipulative piece, but the final salvation chorus doesn't really have enough musical substance to make it compelling.

But it's nice every now and again to dust it off.

--Thanks to mad musings of you for the link. Now if only my work firewall wouldn't block you :)

Required Reading

Drew McManus at Adaptistration is hosting an interesting serious of posts on Take a Friend to the Orchestra month. The contributors (many of whose blogs are linked to on the left) have interesting points to make. Go there right now and read Kyle Gann's contribution. It is compelling, well-thought out and , well, just right.

I have to admit that since my spouse is not the kind of classical music fan that I am, I often attend alone or with like-minded friends. I now feel properly chastised by Drew's discussion. I should be sharing the experience. The voyage of discovery is one of the great things about the rich body of classical music. I doubt sincerely if I'll ever exhaust the repertoire, since there is so much yet to unearth. Alessandro Scarlatti wrote 114 operas and I can't imagine that I will have the opportunity (or the desire) to hear all of them, it is nice to know that they are there.

In my occasional jadedness, I still enjoy eavesdropping on a fellow concertgoer who is bringing a friend for whom this is a new experience. I always make a point of looking at their reaction after the concert is over and most of the time there is a smile and enthusiasm (ok, only just occasionally, there is a snore too).

How selfish I've been. It is time to share.