his opera was regrettably the only one that Beethoven ever wrote and the opera we see now, is not the original work. The story was by Jean Nicholas Bouilly, with a libretto by Joseph Sonnleithner. It was first performed as Leonore in Vienna's Theater an der Wien, on November 20, 1805 as Vienna was under French Military Occupation. He was convinced later to shorten it from three to two acts in 1806 with some assistance from Stephan van Breuning.  Eight years later with some libretto work by Georg Friedrich Treitschke, it was revised yet again and performed under the name Fidelio at the Kärtnertortheater on May 23, 1814 and met with great success. It has been an important part of the repertory since that time.

Los Angeles Opera performed this work on October 6, 2007 and the singing was superb throughout the performance. Anja Kampe in an LA Opera debut, played Leonore with aplomb, her lovely rich voice was a real treat to hear. The passion she brought to the role as she expressed frustration with the situation at hand was well expressed and hit just the right mood for this piece. Her Florestan, played by Klaus Florian Vogt, also debuting here, was no less admirable. His voice was clear and strong and his characterization of the weakened prisoner was most impressive. Their duet, O namenlose Freude, was filled with love and longing.

Matti Salminen gave us a fine Rocco. His booming bass voice brought the character to life, and his sympathy for his charges was obvious. His interaction with his daughter as she sought Fidelio as her husband was both playful and fatherly.His jovial 'Hat man nicht auch Gold beineben' was well done. We have seen him before in Los Angeles as Gurnemanz in Parsifal, was also very good and it's nice to get the chance to hear him once again. He was no less competent in this role. Pizarro was played by Eike Wilm Schulte, also for the first time here. His singing was marvelous and his villainous portrayal was just as menacing as it should have been. He carried his villainy to the curtain call to the amusement of the audience.

Local Greg Fedderly played the lovesick Jacquino very well. In the opening his clumsy advances towards his reluctant intended were a tremendous crowd pleaser. Marzelline, played by Rebekah Camm, was the very essence of girlish enthusiasm, her aria, O wär ich schon mit dir vereint was simply charming. Playing off of each other in the first act, their timing was perfection. The quartet from the first act Mir ist so wunderbar, was sung brilliantly by all involved.

The sets were nothing less than inspired. The clever use of textures gave an intense visual interest to the stage. This prison looked drab, yet somehow one could see something fascinating was going to occur there. The lighting was well done, particularly in the second scene when the prisoners are let into the yard for some sunshine. The use of projections in front of the stage was more than adequate to imply the depth of Florestan's prison in the second act.

The chorus as always, was wonderful to hear. Beethoven's score was given the full consideration by James Conlon and the orchestra. Often in this piece, the instruments overpower the storyline, but Maestro Conlon was restrained in all the right places, and allowed the music free reign when it was appropriate. He chose to follow the tradition begun by Mahler in the mid twentieth century of performing the Leonore No. 3 during the scenes in the last act. This overture was thrown out during the many revisions to the work, and is not always performed, but in this case it was a wise choice. The orchestra performed it with passion to the delight of the audience.

Reviwed by Dawn Soutwick

Visit L.A. Opera online at www.laopera.com

a Bohème by Giacomo Puccini is probably the best known and most beloved of all operas. It is perhaps my personal favorite to take people to see as their first opera. The passionate melodies are known and loved worldwide. According to Opera America, it is the second most performed in in this country. The première was in Turin at the Teatro Regio on February 1, 1896  While it was not as popular in the beginning as Puccini's Manon Lescaut, the story was considered a bit realistic in the treatment of poverty while adding comedic elements. The Italian libretto was written by Giuseppe Giacosa and Luigi Illica.  Despite the claim it was based on the novel to protect it from copyright restrictions, the story was primarily based on the stage adaptation of the novel Scènes de la vie Bohème by Henri Murger.

Los Angeles Opera presented their opening of this work at a Sunday matinée on November 25, 2007. This was a remounting of the popular Herbert Ross production, and it's popular with good reason, the sets are evocative and provided excellent visual interest during the entire opera. A small glitch came in the moving of the scenery in the conclusion of the first act, but did not detract much from the singing. The production was directed by Stanley M. Gardner, whose staging kept the production lively right up to the inevitable conclusion. The scenes between the gentlemen were very lighthearted and full of fun.  

Opening night, brought us the pairing of Massimo Giordano and Maija Kovalevska, both in their LA Opera debut as Rudolfo and Mimi. Well matched in volume and timbre, these two singers brought fire and life to the characters and their passionate, yet doomed romance. Giordano made a thrilling Rudolfo, with a surprisingly rich tenor voice that smoothly navigated the tricky vocal waters. His judicious use of the glottal attack was quite effective and he seemed very musical. Ms. Kovalevska was a charming Mimi, petite and delicate with a surprisingly large and wondrous voice with great pathos in Sono andate. The two shared excellent chemistry and their portrayal was quite touching. Very enjoyable to watch and listen to.

Italian Baritone Luca Salsi as Marcello along with Laquita Mitchell playing the tempestuous Musetta provided fiery and fun comic relief to this tragic tale. They sang well and made a charming pair. Brian Leerhuber played a nimble and amusing Schaunard, while Oren Gradus gave a touching rendition of ‘Vecchia zimarra’. Phillip Cokorinos gave us an entertaining Benoit/Alcindoro, proving his acting ability by making the characters stand out and be different in boht voice and movement.

The only thing that marred this otherwise very enjoyable performance, was a lack of restraint in the orchestra pit. Several times they managed to overpower the singers, who were frankly not hard to hear. However, it was opening night and I am sure the balance issues will be addressed. As usual, the LA Opera Chorus was perfection itself.

Reviwed by Dawn Soutwick

Visit L.A. Opera online at www.laopera.com

l dissoluto punito, ossia il Don Giovanni, or just Don Giovanni for short, premiered in the Estates Theatre in Prague on October 29, 1787. Only one day after the final completion by the composer, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The bulk of the score had been finished in June of 1787. The libretto was written by Lorenzo Da Ponte. Surely the most popular opera written about the Don Juan legend. Arias were added by the composer himself in the May 1788 run in Vienna. This opera, while containing tragic elements was considered by it's composer to be an opera buffa. There were several additions and cuts over the years. It is performed often, the hummable melodies and interesting plot make it easy to see why fans do not tire of it.

Los Angeles Opera opened this on November 24, 2007. Paying tribute to the original vision of the composer, they used the scholarly Bärenreiter urtext, in which I heard things I had not heard before in the many times I have seen, heard, or performed this work. I was very favorably impressed with this choice, and would like to see more of a return to as close an approximation to the first performances of any work as is possible. It was a very pleasant surprise. Delicately conducted by Maestro Hartmut Haenchen, who made the long runs sound fresh and interesting to the ear and was courteous to singers who often had to project from further upstage in a very problematic set. Despite this, the singing that night, was nothing short of sublime.

Erwin Schrott was dynamic in the title role of Don Giovanni, portraying him as ruthless and obsessed with his lifestyle, but still managed to make him likable. He was charming, as well as selfish, evil and unrepentant. Schrott has dashing good looks and talent, a devastating combination in any role, but particularly useful in this one. This is a character that is complex in nature and he attacked it with obvious enthusiasm. We have not seen him in Los Angeles since his appearance as Figaro in 2004, and it has been far too long. Leporello was energetically portrayed by Kyle Ketelson in his LA Opera debut, as an amusing mini-conscience and comic foil to the intensity of his employer.

The women in this production of Don Giovanni, were a vocal force to be reckoned with. All with gorgeous, big, full voices that deftly negotiated the difficult runs and made them sound like a leisurely stroll in the park. Alexandra Deshorties was a magnificent Donna Anna, whom she portrayed with a fierce strength and defiance. Her duet with Don Ottavio, ‘Fuggi, crudele fuggi’, was glorious. Donna Elvira was beautifully sung by Maria Kanyova, and was alternately strong then pathetic as the love sick and obsessed woman wronged. Her ‘Ah, chi mi dice mai’ brilliantly executed.  Lauren McNeese, whom we saw as Javotte in Manon and Tebaldo in Don Carlo last season, played Zerlina. Her initial attraction to the handsome nobleman faded into anger as well, her acting was breezy and full of fun.

The two basses were in fine form as well. Masetto played by James Creswell and the Commentadore was sung by Kang-Liang Peng. Their low voices provided a sultry punctuation to the evening, as they vowed vengance against the recalcitrant Don. Special notice must go to Charles Castronovo, the lone tenor of the evening, as Don Ottavio. He used to be one of our resident artists here in Los Angeles, but went on to bigger things, and it was our loss. His rich full tenor floated from the stage and into hall as he sang ‘Il mio tesoro’, and made me catch my breath, left me anxious to hear more.

The set however, was a jangling contrast to what came out of the singers, it reminded one of a black hole or a virtual reality grid. I am not so sure the textured parts of the set did not suck up a lot of the resonant tones produced by the singers.Female costumes seemed awkward and affected. Perhaps a more traditional setting might have served this terrific cast much better.

Reviwed by Dawn Soutwick

Visit L.A. Opera online at www.laopera.com  




 

	January 23  TRISTAN UND ISOLDE
CAST: John Treleaven (Tristan), Linda Watson (Isolde), Lioba Braun (Brangane), Kristinn Sigmundsson (King Marke), Juha Uusitalo (Kurwenal), Brian Mulligan (Melot), Gregory Warren (Sailor/Shepherd), Matthew Moore (Steerman).  James Conlon, conductor.  David Hockney, designer.  Thor Steingraber, director.  Duane Schuler, lighting.  Grant Gershon, chorusmaster. Jonathan Rider, fight director.
T his ten-year-old David Hockney production of “Tristan und Isolde” got a new lease on life when it was revived this month at the Los Angeles Opera in resplendent new colors.  According to Mr. Hockney, these bright, bold hues were inspired by the lights and colors of L.A. and its environs.  Given all the gloom and doom in L.A. weather since the New Year, there are probably more lights and sunshine inside the opera house than outside, and “Tristan” is not exactly anyone’s idea of a bright, cheery opera (“All dead! All dead!”- exclaims King Marke in Act 3).  Colorful as it may be, this uniquely L.A. “Tristan” is also memorable for its highly imaginary lighting effects and a surprisingly strong cast – made up of Wagnerian rookies and veterans.
Linda Watson as Isode, John Treleaven as Tristan If Hockney paints his sets and costumes with expansive swathes of colors, then Duane Schuler’s lighting makes them vibrant and alive.  Particularly effective is the Act 2 forest scene, where the ominous dark long shadows cast by the trees gradually give way to deep purple hues of calm as Isolde is anxiously awaiting and finally united with her Tristan.  In the Liebestod, the stage darkens while a bright white spotlight shines down upon the transfigured Isolde clad in a flowing white gown, who seems to float in mid air in a miraculous vision.  These are just two of the many felicitous lighting effects in this opera where, ironically, light is either shunned or cursed by its protagonists.  James Conlon, L.A. Opera’s erudite new music director, calls this Tristan the “most beautiful he has ever conducted”.  For those familiar with other works by the British painter David Hockney (“Turandot”, “Die Frau”), they can seem like cartoonish caricatures of the real things.  This “Tristan” breaks that mould and looks completely sincere and natural.  Act 1 features the bow of a real ship with masts and sails and a decorative deck.   Act 2 sets a real castle against the giant trees of the Black Forest.  Act 3 is set on top of the craggy rocks under an oversized Ash Tree.  The deeply-raked set is a challenge for the singers, who must fight gravity and the orchestra at the same time. I, for one, would argue the steep incline helps to keep tensions in the singers’ diaphragm, and also serves as a sounding board to project the voices over the orchestra.   Act 1 Tristan und Isolde Not that any of the singers would need the aid of a sounding board. Irish Heldentenor John Treleaven possesses the vocal heft and stamina for the role of Tristan.  His gritty tone and nasal timber are not inherently attractive  (neither was Vickers’ or Vinay’s in the past) but they are made beautiful by his musical intelligence and dramatic singing.  Tristan’s justly famous Act 3 monologue was handled with searing power and poetic poignancy – showing the pitiful mental disintegration of the delirious hero from utter dejection to unhinged elation of seeing his Isolde once more.    American soprano Linda Watson burst upon the Wagnerian scene ten years ago when she debuted as Bayreuth’s Kundry, a mezzo-soprano role, and only added soprano roles recently.  Her singing, therefore, showed a solid underpinning in the low notes as well as a brilliantly pure top.  Maybe she did not project the overwhelming hurt and anguish (Act 1) or the laser-beam intensity (Act 3 Liebestod) that come naturally to a seasoned dramatic soprano (Stemme, Meier, et al.) but her singing had loads of charm and purity that many hardened Wagnerians would die for.  We shall have to wait until L.A. Opera’s Ring Cycle next season to see if Ms. Watson also has the trill for Brünnhilde’s famous battle cry (most do not).  But for now, she gave a highly credible, if not totally idiomatic, portrayal of Isolde. Compared to the current and past crops of Wagnerian singers, these pair of lovers are lithe and physically believable.  It is therefore unfortunate that stage direction did not allow them more freedom for physical expression.  In Act 3, for example, Isolde casually sauntered rather than running to the aid of her dying Tristan.  A major gaffe for director Thor Steingraber.   Act 2 Tristan und Isolde Singing Isolde’s hapless maid Brangäne was German mezzo-soprano Lioba Braun. She is a delightful actress whose early years in the Volksoper (Viennese Operetta) no doubt were instrumental in honing her histrionic craft.  The only disadvantage she suffered in this production was being positioned too forward down stage.  Brangäne’s warning (Act 2) should emanate from an invisible source for maximum  aural effect.  In her forward position, the music lost much of its mystery and ethereal float.  Tenor Brian Mulligan’s Melot, deceitful confidant of both Tristan and King Marke, was in fine form in this ungrateful role.  Gregory Warren (Sailor/Shepherd) sang his ballad sweetly as the lovelorn Sailor.  Finnish bass-baritone Juha Uusitalo’s Kurwenal was appropriately gruff and tender at the same time.  Hailing from Iceland, but with enough burnished tones to melt ice, bass Kristinn Sigmundsson gave the most satisfying performance of the evening as King Marke of Cornwall.  Singing with commanding authority and firm, incisive tones, this King was no mournful whiner, but a noble figure who lamented losing a trusted friend more than a young trophy wife.   His Act 2 peroration was powerful and emotionally shattering.    Act 3 Tristan und Isolde Thor Steingraber’s direction emphasizes highly stylized gestures rather than naturalism espoused by Hockney’s set and costume design.  So, in the Act 2 rendezvous, the lovers show only limited physical intimacy, with Isolde sitting on a tree stump instead of in Tristan’s lap, while the music surges ahead in sweet, sensuous currents.  Also, when the dying Tristan collapses on a rock in Act 3, he does so in such a deliberate manner as to suggest he is preparing for bed instead.  And the rise of Tristan’s Ghost in the final bars of the Liebestod was a coup de théâtre better reserved for a Sellars or Serban production than a Hockney production.  Nonetheless, for the most part, this antithesis of artistic visions work harmoniously together.  The Act 3 Ninja-like fight scene was swift and slick, well directed by fight master Jonathan Rider. Conductor James Conlon proved himself a capable captain, running a tight ship in Act 1 and coaxing some rapturous string sounds from the L.A. Opera orchestra in Act 2.  His treatment of the Tristan chord in the Prelude was masterly.  The sudden buildup of tension followed by a gradual release of energy was highly effective in propelling the Prelude to its orgiastic climax.  Maestro Conlon’s unerring sense of drama also applied to the opening of Act 2, where the rushing string ascents vividly suggested Isolde’s impatience as she awaits her lover.  In the sea of orchestral sounds, there were many chamber music-like details to cherish – the languorous cellos and woodwinds, the ominous heaving in the trombones, the heavenly ping of a harp marking Tristan’s soul leaving his body.   Maestro Conlon is one of the finest Wagnerian interpreters of today. Reviwed by Truman C. Wang Remaining performances of "Tristan und Isolde" are on Jan 27, 31; Feb 3, 6, 10.  Order tickets from L.A. Opera website at www.laopera.com       February 24  OTELLO   CAST: Ian Storey (Otello), Cristina Gallardo-Domas (Desdemona), Mark Delavan (Iago), Derek Taylor (Cassio), Ning Liang (Emilia), Eric Halfvarson (Ludovico), Gregory Warren (Roderigo), Ryan McKinny (Montano), Matthew Moore (Herald).  James Conlon, conductor. John Cox, director. Johan Engels, designer. Simon Corder, lighting.  Grant Gershon, chorus master   T he L.A. Opera’s new production of Otello is a joint effort with Europeans (Monte-Carlo and Parma) and it shows: minimalist sets, drab costumes and props, strangely concave stage and, last but not least, a garden in the Moore’s castle that looked like a failed home improvement project.  The production design by Johan Engels may not be much to look at, but it does serve several useful functions.  For example, the two square boxes flanking the stage are used as secret rooms for Otello to eavesdrop on Iago and Cassio’s conversations in Act 2, and as a passageway for other main characters.  The stage proper is reserved for massed ensembles and choruses in Act 1 and Act 3.  However, I don’t see the point of a tilted concave stage for purposes other than toning up the singers’ hamstrings . In his pre-opera talk for “Tristan und Isolde”, the company’s music director James Conlon waxed superlative about the ‘beautiful production’.  For “Otello”, Mr. Conlon chose to stay mute on the matter.  That’s not a good thing. John Cox’s willfully misguided direction contradicts not only Verdi’s specific staging instructions but also the music itself.  In Act 3, when Otello curses Desdemona as a “vil cortigiana” (a vile whore), she angrily walks off the stage instead of being forcefully thrown out in utter desperation, as the music vividly suggests.  And lastly, Desdemona dies from asphyxiation by a pillow rather than strangulation.  This last detail is not in the music, but nontheless goes to show the sad reality of Regitheater-style opera today, where the stage director’s vision often outweighs the composer’s or opera's storyline.  Whatever misgivings one may have about the production values, the musical values are uniformly strong and, in the case of orchestral playing, often inspired.  Now, the Los Angeles Opera Orchestra isn’t the most polished ensemble (San Francisco Opera has far better winds and brasses), but under the right leadership, it can sing and play with the best of them.  James Conlon’s reading was rhythmically alert and buoyant, attentive the minutest details.  The passage leading to the love duet was beautifully intoned by three cellos.  Another detail often overlooked was in Act 3, after Otello “A terra! E piangi!” – where he throws Desdemona down, just before she begins the big concertato – there is a series of orchestral tutti chords, each one marked diminuendo by Verdi.   Conlon’s reading of these measures was fully faithful to Verdi’s markings.  English tenor Ian Storey’s Otello was a jealous green monster and unfortunately a greenhorn as well.  This is his double debut – in Los Angeles and in “Otello”.  Given the tall competitions he faced – Ramon Vinay, Jon Vickers, Placido Domingo, and the late Sergej Larin – Storey gave a cogent and believable reading of Verdi’s Moor, falling short only in the romantic department.  This ‘superbo guerrier’ (great warrier) did not convey enough erotic tensions in the love duet to make him a romantic hero as well.  Without the latter, this Otello becomes just another boorish, abusive husband blinded by jealousy, a wholly unsympathetic and distasteful character.  Another fly in the ointment in the characterization was the “Quel canto mi conquide”, where the singer failed to observed Verdi’s marking of dolce.  Vocally, the role of Otello, contrary to common belief, does not require a voice of super heft or stamina.  This is no Tristan, after all.  What it does call for, however, is “squillo” (a ringing tone) and a superb diction.  The original Otello, Francesco Tamagno, possessed both in a voice that was smallish by today’s standards.   Storey’s vocal attributes included some exciting “squillo” in the opening “Esultate!” and in Act 3, but his Italian diction was generally poor.  Love may be blind, but it would still have been nice to understand his sweet tender words in the love duet.   Mark Delavan’s Iago is a evil puppet master hiding behind his smooth, urbane vocalism.  Iago is one of Verdi’s few completely evil characters with no redeeming value whatsoever.  Delavan revealed the evil of Iago in all its terrifying power.  “Era la notte” was sung intimately, soto voce as written, with some insinuating inflexions of the text – this Iago is wholly in command of his evil purpose. The role of Cassio is often relegated to a comprimario tenor, so it’s gratifying to hear  Derek Taylor sing it with full-throated ardor and great élan.  Bass Eric Halfvarson sang Venetian ambassador Lodovico with booming authority.  Also noteworthy was Ning Liang’s Emilia, who nearly stole the finale from Otello with her unflinchingly dramatic singing.  Chilean soprano Cristina Gallardo-Domâs gave the most satisfying performance of the evening as Desdemona.  This Desdemona is no shrinking violet.  Fearless, she demands that Otello pardon his disgraced captain Cassio (“Non oppormi il tuo diniego. Gli perdona!”  She sang with seamless legato and an innate sense of style that lent credibility of Desdemona’s plight.  Her forceful and somewhat lachrymose delivery was reminiscent of Licia Albanese, but always within bounds of good taste.  In Willow Song and the sublime ‘Ave Maria’, the voice roared and floated with radiant beauty.   Vocally and dramatically, Gallardo-Domâs’s superb characterization of Desdemona was all of a piece.  The L.A. Opera Chorus sang magnificently under the new chorus master Grant Gershon.   It was joined by members of the L.A. Children’s Chorus in a ravishing tribute to gentle Desdemona.   The stormy opening and camp fire chorus were exciting in their precision as well as agility.    Reviwed by Truman C. Wang The remaining performances of "Otello" are on Feb 27, Mar 2, 5, 9.  For tickets, call (213) 972-7219 or visit www.laopera.com Related links -  Otello: Performance History                         Francesco Tamagno: The Complete Recordings

Such is the gist the opera’s plot.  The key words are “prima donna”;  the key aria, “Vissi d’arte. Vissi d’amore” (“I lived for art. I lived for love”).  Therefore, it’s not hard to see so many opera sopranos, even some mezzos, whose dream it is to take a, well, stab at the role. 

Canadian Adrianne Pieczonka is the lucky soprano who gets to sing this dream role in Los Angeles this month.  Better yet, she also gets to wear the sparkly three-piece Swarvoski jewelry that had belonged to Maria Callas, who wore them for her 1956 Metropolitan Opera debut as Tosca.   Pieczonka, incidentally, is also making her role debut wearing the same talisman.
 

But that’s where the similarities end.  Callas had more than a year to prepare, plan and perfect the role.  Pieczonka, like most jetsetting young singers these days, did not have that luxury.  She only got six month – and very part-time at that, in between other engagements.  The result showed Pieczonka’s gleaming, radiant voice, if not emotional maturity, for this demanding role.

Vocally, the role of Tosca fits her voice like a glove.  Much of the opera is in the sung-speech recitative style, with the music lying in the lower-to-middle register of the vocal range.  In Act 1 church scene, for example, Pieczonka sang with a richly sensuous tone, professing her jealousy of the painted Madonna and her love for Cavaradossi.  In Act 2, she displayed great poise in the face of danger, confronting Baron Scarpia fearlessly, letting out occasional high notes as powerful as they were gorgeous, and singing Tosca’s famous “Vissi d’arte” with unalloyed beauty and class.

In terms of dramatic characterization, Pieczonka’s Tosca is more of a coquette than a ‘tempestuous prima donna’.  Her five calls of “Mario!” (the first two of which were piped in from offstage) in Act 1 were pure and unvaried, showing not a hint of Tosca’s jealousy.  Throughout much of Act 1, she projected a wide-eyed innocence that was more appropriate for, say, Manon or Mimi than for Tosca.  In Act 2, her physical and vocal reactions to Scarpia’s unwanted advances were surprisingly muted, so much so that she appeared to be merely playing the part, rather than living it (as Callas did).  For a debut performance, Pieczonka did a commendable job.  She will have more time before her next Tosca (in San Francisco, 6/09) to find her emotional ID with the role.

American lyric tenor Neil Shicoff made a welcome return to Los Angeles after 20 years of absence, sounding more vibrant and alive than many singers 20 years his junior.  Shicoff sang with the lyrical refinement of a poet in Act1, and the fiery conviction of a proud freedom fighter in Act 2.  The high notes were always ringing and exciting, the phrasing always stylish, as in his rendition of Cavaradossi’s Act 3 aria “E lucevan le stelle”

As the lecherous Baron Scarpia, Spanish veteran baritone Juan Pons gave what was probably the finest singing of the evening.  Wearing a half smile and a sexy, still compact, voice, Pons paced about the stage with as much magnetism as a Don Giovanni, albeit a humorless, much sinister version.  His exclamation of “Tosca, you make me forget God!” (“Tosca, mi fai dimenticare Iddio!”) in Act 1 finale was a moment of towering depravity. In Act 2, Pons projected a broad range of dramatic expressions, ranging from lechery, rage, sinister half tones to nobility (after all, Scarpia is a baron).  The specificity of his acting, combined with high-voltage singing, made Juan Pons’ Scarpia a spectacularly memorable portrayal. 

Completing the cast were Operalia winner Robert Pomakov as an incisively-sung Angelotti, Dale Travis as a firm but not crusty Sacristan, and Joel Sorenson as a deliciously unctuous Spoletta.  Domingo-Thornton Young Artists Karen Vuong’s shepherd and Daniel Armstrong’s jailer were both strong and well sung.  The Los Angeles Opera Chorus and the Children’s Chorus gave a short but hugely memorable performance in the Act 1 finale. 

Tying together everything musically was British conductor Sir Richard Armstrong, who gave a stylish and colorful reading of the Puccini score, featuring superb cello playing in the arias, and a sweet, unsentimental clarinet in the Act 3 shepherd’s song. 

The sets and costumes by John Gunter are handsome but do not always work in the theater – the Act 1 sets for the Church of Sant'Andrea della Valle look less than imposing.  The all-important Madonna’s painting lies on the ground (hard to see if you sit in the orchestra).  The Act 3 sets for the Castel Sant’Angelo feature an impossibly high roof (hard to see Tosca jump if you sit in the balcony).  Only in Act 2 do the sets strike a right chord with the drama -- Baron Scarpia’s apartment in the Farnese Palace is painted a fiery red with a giant door and windows enclosing an claustrophobic space.

A special mention must be made on the excellent lighting by Mary Louise Geiger, particularly in Act 2, with its film noir-like low lighting and ominous long dark shadows on the walls.  Suddenly, at Tosca’s aria “Vissi d’arte”, the lighting changes to reveal a heavenly ceiling fresco, then reverting back to the dark and gloom at the end of the aria.  The effect was highly dramatic and striking.

Ian Judge’s original stage direction, updated by Stanley M. Garner, is effective for the most part, except in Act 3, where Tosca, fleeing the approaching guards, throws her cape at one of her pursuers, who then promptly falls to the ground like a dead weight – a risible bit of Hollywood stunt work that will no doubt add to the already ample treasure trove of Tosca lore and anecdotes. 


###
Singing the ill-fated lovers on Saturday, June 14 were soprano Georgina Lukács, a firebrand hailing from Hungary and Gwyn Hughes Jones, a British tenor of refinement and polish. With Plácido Domingo in the pit urging them along, it made for a memorable evening at the opera.

Vocally, Lukács might not be as sumptuous in “Vissi d’arte” as Pieczonka in the A-cast, but dramatically the Hungarian was everything that the Canadian aspired to be – glamorous, fiery, convincing. Adorned with Callas’ jewelry in Act 2, Lukács looked every bit as intense and ready to do battle with Scarpia as the famed Greek soprano. This Tosca looked properly the part of a prima donna, all decked out in fine furs and a parasol – a picture of feminine grace tempered with a sense of danger that many men would find irresistible.
 

Lukacs as Tosca, Jones as Cavaradossi, Act 1

Equally superb were Lukács’ idiomatic fluency and dramatic handling of the Italian text. In Act 1, several times Tosca prays to Madonna to forgive her – playfully when kissing Cavaradossi, and fatefully when leaving Scarpia. Lukács’ carefully varied accents clearly distinguished the two prayers, showing the mark of a true actress. In the searing drama of Act 2, Lukács wore the raw emotions on her sleeve with nary a loss of vocal glamour. She sounded genuinely distraught at Scarpia’s sexual advances and exclaimed the words “How much? Your price!” and “Do not touch me!” with total despair and desperation as Puccini had prescribed in the score. After Scarpia’s murder, her incantation of “E avanti a lui tremava tutta Roma!” was emotionless and downright bone-chilling.

In the final analysis, Ms. Lukács gave a tour-de-force characterization of Floria Tosca, opera’s most famous prima donna, that was dramatically gripping and emotionally shattering down to the final leap from atop the parapet of Castel Sant’Angelo (and spraining her ankle in the process).

Gwyn Hughes Jones’ Cavaradossi was also a class act, full of poetic ardor and tonal splendor, including a heart-stopping slow diminuendo in “E lucevan le stelle”. The sweet timber of Jones’ voice recalls that of the great Pavarotti. Domingo’s conducting was well balanced, efficient and dramatically apposite. It’s a rare treat to witness two great tenors in “Tosca”.

Notwithstanding the Callas jewelry on loan from Swarvoski, the Los Angeles Opera has gotten its very own crown jewel in this truly outstanding "Tosca" -- probably the finest cast of its 2007-2008 season.
 

-Reviwed by Truman C. Wang


Related links - L.A. Opera accessorizes 'Tosca' revival with Maria Callas' jewelry
                



 

A search on Amazon.com shows only a handful of recordings, compared to 20-plus each for Tosca, La Boheme, and Madama Butterfly.  The performance history of La Rondine in the U.S. is also spotty at best, with major productions seen in Washington D.C. (1998), Los Angeles (2000), San Francisco (2007) thus far. (The Met will mount a new production on New Year’s Eve 2008 and broadcast it live in HD worldwide.)

La Rondine was initially conceived as an operetta for Vienna.  With the outbreak of World War I, Austria and Italy became enemies, and Puccini re-formed his work as a more traditional Italian opera.  La Rondine, which eventually had its world premier in 1917 in Monte Carlo (a neutral territory), featuring one of the composer’s best known soprano arias, “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta” (heard in the film A Room With a View).   Magda, the glamorous mistress of a wealthy banker, is the titular rondine (“swallow”), a kept woman unhappy in a rich man’s nest.  She decides on a whim to spend an evening out disguised as a working class girl.  At Café Bullier, she meets the love of her life, Ruggero, who is enchanted by the innocent girl she pretends to be.  When Ruggero proposes marriage, the memory of her sullied past threatens to tear Magda from the man she loves.

For the revival of its 2000 production, L.A. Opera expanded on La Rondine with new materials unearthed by director Marta Domingo at Casa Sonzogno, extending the operetta to almost operatic length by about 20 minutes.  Most of the extra materials are words for Magda and Rambaldo which Puccini did not set to music.  Thereupon Ms. Domingo recruited maestro Lorenzo Ferrero to orchestrate them in the ‘authentic Puccinian style’.  The resulting three new duets integrate seamlessly into the the rest of the opera, much better than Luciano Berio’s new music for the finale of Turandot back in 2002.

Unchanged for the revival is the alternate, tragic ending, in which Ruggero learns of Magda’s sullied past in a letter from his mother, leaves her, and the distraught Magda drowns herself in the ocean.  Puccini had considered this alternate plot line but never allowed it to be staged.  (It is an operetta after all, where nobody should die in the end.)  With the tragic ending, La Rondine suddenly becomes a full-fledged opera in line with Manon Lescaut, La Boheme and other Puccinian tragedies.  The only downside is some of the original music in the finale had to be cut, such as the beautifully intimate Letter Reading scene.

In her L.A. Opera debut, conductor Keri-Lynn Wilson made a favorable impression with her skilled baton and empathy for the Puccini style, stirring up passions in the grand Act 2 ensemble and bringing out the supple triple-meter rhythms and nuanced texture in the many waltzes and dances.  Overall, Wilson’s reading showed great refinement and understated pathos that are the quintessential style of the operetta (despite Ms. Domingo’s efforts to turn it into an opera).  Particularly memorable was the delicate chamber-music quality in Act 3 finale, where the solo violin, viola and cello softly sang in octaves, rising higher and higher like a swallow in flight, freed at last from her gilded cage.

Portraying the Parisian courtesan Magda, soprano Patricia Racette sang and acted with utmost grace and a touch of vulnerability.  It’s too bad that her sometimes-problematic voice took a while to warm up, because her big tune, “Chi il bel sogno di Doretta” (“Doretta’s Dream”) came just five minutes into the opera and her climactic high notes sounded uncomfortably strained.   The piano accompaniment, on the other hand, was beautifully executed by pianist Paul Floyd.  In the many years that I have heard her, Racette has never failed to deliver a less-than-credible performance.

Due to popular demand, tenor Marcus Haddock is back to reprise the role of Ruggero.  The voice still possesses plenty of heft and ringing tone, with an almost baritonal quality now more evident than ever (a potential Tristan?)   This time around, he got to sing Ruggero’s often-cut Act 1 aria, “Parigi! e la citta dei desideri” (“Paris the city of desires!”) with the sunny, confident vocalism of a Mario Lanza. 

Also returning from the 2000 production is bass David Pittsinger as Rambaldo, who has become a more three-dimensional and sympathetic character thanks to the new materials.  Pittsinger delivered a strong performance with his incisive singing. 

A typical operetta plot contains a secondary couple for comedic relief.  In La Rondine, poet Prunier and housemaid Lisette are the squabbling couple in much the same vein as Musetta and Marcello in La Boheme.   Tenor Greg Fedderly could always be counted upon in character roles and sang like a true poet.  Soprano Amanda Squitieri made an auspicious L.A. Opera debut in the perky and delightful soubrette role of Lisette.

Michael Scott’s lavish period sets and costumes (circa 1850 Paris) look exceedingly handsome in the Act 1 drawing room of Rambaldo’s Parisian mansion.  The elegant interior basks in the warm glow of Mary Louise Geiger’s atmospheric lighting.  Act 2 features a stunning Tiffany stained glass dome that houses the lobby and dance floor of Café Bullier.  The Café is peopled by the excellent L.A. Opera Chorus as rowdy students, various supernumeraries as customers, and three explosively exuberant Cancan dancers (kudos to choreographer Kitty McNamee).  Act 3 is set at a bright seaside villa with a realistically-looking ocean that slowly gathers mist as the impending tragedy unfolds.

A word on the projected titles.  In an operetta, the swift actions and comedic elements need to be perfectly timed to achieve their intended effects.  In Act 1, for example, housemaid Lisette suddenly bursts into the room, pattering away breathlessly to her employer Rambaldo about a young visitor.  To which Rambaldo mutters in utter bewilderment, “I can’t understand a word she’s saying!”.  The projected titles missed this line and ruined the potentially hilarious effect.   The rest of the opera is plagued by the titles changing too slowly or not at all.

Other than the lamentable translation, this revival production of La Rondine is eminently satisfying.  The extravagant Act 2 spectacle alone was worth the price of admission.  Puccini himself would have been pleased.

-Reviwed by Truman C. Wang

Additional evening performances of La Rondine will be on June 12, 19, 25, 28 at 7:30pm; matinee performances on June 15, 22 at 2:00pm. Tickets from $20 to $238 may be purchased by calling the L.A. Opera Box Office at (213) 972-7219 or online at www.laopera.com


Related links - Video clips from L.A. Opera's La Rondine (2008)
                       Pre-performance lecture by Michael Walsh
                       The alternate ending - Washington National Opera (Youtube)