En proie a la tristesse (Rossini 101)

Typical Rossini, eh? Rossini does facetiousness very well, it’s the basis of his comedy. All hail subtext. So you need a lot of star quality to pull off a Rossini lead, not just the ability to sing coloratura in your sleep. If you have both it’s the stuff of dreams. If you’re missing either one… say you only got coloratura then you’re the best canary on the block. If all you’ve got is star quality… well, that can go a long way, depending on how racy the production is 😉

Here‘s JDD deconstructing the piece with a very competent “contestant” whom I hope to hear more from in the future. And here‘s the side-splitting end product. It’s a lot of fun watching them one after the other. My very brainy brain wishes all arias came with 30min+ walk-throughs from people who get it. That would make for fun DVD extras.

My subtext for this post is I’m going to see Damrau as Violetta in little over a week! I think she’s a fabulous singing actress and a pretty good singer, too 😉 all right, better than pretty good, note-worthy.

One reason why I love the mezzosoprano voice

Last night I listened to to Boni’s Sesto and it reminded me how much I liked her. Words sort of fail to sum up just how this rendition of Par che mi nasca in seno makes me feel. I’d call it lovely but the term falls way short. It’s gentle and melancholic but also hopeful and loving and peaceful – put together it musically expresses what I’d call kindness. I feel cocooned by it.

Awwwpera moment…

I’m not a total grouch and being that toaday is for gushing and hearts, the Daily prompt has actually spurred me to share my first moment of awwwpera:

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p style=”text-align:justify;”>I was looking around on youtube, just getting my feet wet, listening to a bit of this and a bit of that and feeling somewhat unsure about how this exploring opera thing went, when I came across this rendition. I immediately thought it was the most adorable thing. I then went on a JDD rampage (there was a lot of youtube pillaging, yes). To this day JDD is my favourite Rosina, just the right mix of playfulness and venom 🙂

The capitalism vs. the people Idomeneo Act 2 (Jacobs, 2013)

• Idomeneo: Richard Croft 
• Idamante: Gaelle Arquez
• Ilia: Sophie Karthauser
• Elettra: Marlis Petersen
• Arbace: Julien Behr
• Il Gran Sacerdoto di Nettuno: Mirko Guadagnini

Conductor: Rene Jacobs | Theater an der Wien, 2013 | Freiburger Barockorcherster | Arnold Schoenberg Choir

Now that I’ve seen the entire production there’s a few things:

a) Jacobs, you freaking beauty, this was amazing. I was saying in an earlier post how a production can open up an opera for you. Ironically, I was hoping one Idomeneo production would help me get into it like that creative Semiramide from ’81 did. Alas, it’s back to the music with Idomeneo. Left to the visuals I’d have eventually defected. Jacobs runs a tight ship and his compass is true (bo-boom-tsch).

b) wow, the director doesn’t like anybody. Everybody this side of Idamante gets dirty or severely muddy and constantly long-faced. What a miserable bunch of mofos. I wouldn’t say this if the contrast with the music wouldn’t be so glaring. There are very clear uplifting moments in the score yet the director plods on with the gloom. Meh.

c) acting: what happened? The singers seem left to their own devices. Or I hope so. Otherwise the director has no clue how to illustrate drama. Constant flailing diminishes the big dramatic moments. I thought this was covered in acting 101. At least that’s what I (a natural flailer) learned. As much as I’m one of those who feel.every.moment.of.it, I must agree. Conserving energy, visually and physically, makes the big moments of unleashed movement that much more effective. Here everybody flails in gran cemento at any given moment. I occasionally chuckled out loud and this is not the kind of opera you should be chuckling at. I don’t think the director understands loftiness. This opera is all about noblesse d’esprit and what we get is teeth gritting hard done by characters. You can be noble in the mud, you know? Amateurs.

Baroqu-ish rocks in the sea

Back in ye olde 1700s they really enjoyed comparing emotional distress to storms out at sea or personal strength in the face of adversity to rocks beaten by furious waves. This is one of those arias, an outstanding bit from 1772’s Il sogno di Scipione. Although I’m not the greatest Popp fan, she does rock this rock.

Like hearing it for the first time

Recently I felt like writing about arias so it occurred to me I should have a category dedicated to moments where a singer’s rendition of an aria has stopped me in my tracks. This is why we listen, innit? So here it is: …and then I heard that, (predictibly?) inaugurated with a high octane Rossini aria.

The most important reason why I like a singer is the voice. Interpretation and technique come next, with acting and looks in third and fourth place. There are very proficient, soulful and intelligent singers out there to whom I don’t listen all that often because I don’t like the sound of their voice very much. Yet every once in a while a singer whose voice I don’t normally like goes out and surprises me with a gorgeous rendition of an aria (or maybe of an entire role) that brings out something simply beautiful and moving within their voice. It’s an enormously satisfying moment and it has on occasion completely changed my mind about a singer.

Scherza, infida…

This is the rendition that opened my ears to the stark greatness of this aria. Although it’s much praised and although I liked Ariodante’s other arias a lot, somehow I never got it before. It’s proof of Coote’s great skill at expressing emotional abyss. Ariodante is an elusive, tricky character and not many get him right. He comes off as a lot more introverted and emotionally vulnerable than other opera seria knights.

Una bellissima lagrima

I first heard Renzo Casellato in Marilyn Horne’s 1977 Tancredi¹. To my surprise I didn’t find much about him online². Youtube once again came to the rescue. Aside from rock solid technique and a beautiful, manly but nuanced tone, I dig his subtle interpretation(s). Although he can belt with the best of them, he doesn’t overdo it and finishes the aria on a soft, elegant note.

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1. He’s the excellent Argirio in that production. I liked him above everybody else, hence why I looked him up. ↩
2. Although there’s a very positive entry about him in The Music Antiquarian Blog. ↩

The perfect Tornami a vagheggiar

Tornami a vagheggiar is one of my favourite arias ever. It’s so light and silly and joyous – very much like infatuation itself¹, completely unselfconscious. It’s sung by Morgana, Alcina’s sister, after Morgana gets unexpectedly infatuated with “Ricciardo”, the dashing and mysterious knight who turns out to be Bradamante, Ruggiero’s fiancee and, indeed, an experienced damsel in distress rescuer on her own. Maybe it’s just me, but I feel something delicately mocking in the music. Sometimes I think Morgana falls in love so quickly because Alcina normally gets first dibs on any man that lands on the island and this is the first time she runs into a visitor before he registers on her sister’s radar.

I’ve heard a good chunk of interpretations but there has always been something missing. Either the tempo is too slow (can’t have that, the ethos is too spontaneous) or the singer’s voice is a tad too heavy or the coloratura too laboured or the ornamentation too elaborate. Now I’m not normally a Battle fan (soubrettes can get on my nerves a bit) but did she nail this one or what? I knew we were on the right track as soon as I heard the proper tempo. And then the whole thing just breezed by as it should, light and happy and idiomatic.

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1. There is another aria that expresses infatuation/love equally as well: I Puritani’s Vien diletto, e in ciel la luna, and there will be an entry on that as well. ↩