A mediocre piece from a master sometimes survives less well than a single masterpiece of a lesser artist. The former is the case in the Chicago Opera Theater's Owen Wingrave. Based on a lesser work of the masterly Henry James, the masterly Benjamin Britten and his sometime collaborator, Myfanwy Piper, conveyed a dedication to pacifism by bringing the gothic tale to the small screen and stage. And to what effect? An evening of difficult but accessible music well sung. A portrait of English aristocracy of a century ago. An enduring message of individuality.
The singing was uniformly good with an outstanding performance by Matthew Worth in the title role. In a rather monochromatic role, Worth's Wingrave voiced many shades and subtleties of the music, truly triumphing. He demonstrated for me how exactly a singer should convey the musical intentions of the composer. I should say he sang well, but what I mean is that Matthew Worth made the music more alive for me than anything else. I didn't notice the odd set of moving staircases too much nor fret over the underwhelming libretto. I simply reveled in beautifully interesting Britten extremely well sung.
The other singer I would be ashamed not to mention is Matt Boehler. He sympathetically portrayed a sympathetic character very warmly.
The great musical accomplishments surely stem from the conducting of Steuart Bedford, the original conductor of the work. After hearing him interviewed on WFMT, I knew I would admire his work. I was right! These kudos could be better borne out by specific examples, I suppose, yet the evidence was all aural: bringing together the voices and instruments, highlighting and shaping the music, all the things conductors do (or are supposed to do).
Much ado has rightly been made of the appearance of this operatic rarity by this enterprising company. All of Britten's work remains important and relevant, even though Owen Wingrave may not be among his top ten. After all, even Mozart's La Finta Giardiniera remains in the repertoire.
Showing posts with label Chicago Opera Theater. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chicago Opera Theater. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
COT's La Tragedie de Carmen
A reoccurring theme for me this year has been KNOW YOUR GENRES. By that I mean that almost everything falls into some category or other, usually by design. The latest show from the Chicago Opera Theater has a very well-designed look, feel, and genre: film noir.
Grand opera it ain't nor was meant to be, as my somewhat disappointed colleagues from the suburbs discovered. They were perhaps expecting a red velvet cape and dancing gypsies, but expectations were, indeed, challenged. (Expectations is another theme of the year to be considered more at a later date, but I was not disappointed by the look and sound of this Carmen in the least.)
Opera On The Edge, as it were, is different from the Lyric's edgiest. Chicago Opera Theater often employs young singers, on the road to established careers but not yet at Placido Domingo's level. The handful of productions I've seen there have never been of a traditional ilk-- no white-powdered wigs. This is infinitely more of a European influence as well as an appeal to the proverbial thinking person. After all, there is a challenge in all art of any merit, and Chicago Opera Theater is challenging and very artistic at all times.
OK, OK, about the show: it is strange. Sir Peter Hall's adaptation rearranges the familiar musical numbers and, as pointed out by the Tribune's von Rhein:
While opera may not be known for the layered characters of theater, one usually finds subtext in the music. Not so in this rendition: the four principal characters were reduced to the archetypal innocent, destroyer, lover, and egoist (crossing psych genres, I know!). The program notes make all this sound very reasonable and attractive, yet this Carmen presents itself as a drama accompanied by familiar hit tunes.
With so much of the music based on dance forms of the times and region (I'm thinking Flamenco-esque), I did wonder if a dance historian should be considered. This is obviously true of any Carmen production, but I was more keenly aware of this because of the bare-boned orchestra and lack of chorus.
Sandra Piques Eddy sang the title role with a most lustrous voice and seemed to have the rhythms in her body. She was a cut above all the other singers, who were merely fine. Young singers often lack the commitment that experience brings but good direction can help them accomplish so much. Which in turn delights the audience, right?
The simple set worked very well in abstract and symbol. Chris Binder's lighting design (he also did the Clemenza) was perfection! Usually the audience doesn't notice lighting unless a performer misses the mark or something goes awry. This show was so well lit that I was prompted to remember the same splendor in Clemenza: not subtle, almost campy, yet precisely perfect for the drama. Again, the film noir genre always had high-contrast lighting.
I wonder how a little Luis Bunuel surrealism would go with this adaptation? Ah, well, another genre for another time!
Grand opera it ain't nor was meant to be, as my somewhat disappointed colleagues from the suburbs discovered. They were perhaps expecting a red velvet cape and dancing gypsies, but expectations were, indeed, challenged. (Expectations is another theme of the year to be considered more at a later date, but I was not disappointed by the look and sound of this Carmen in the least.)
Opera On The Edge, as it were, is different from the Lyric's edgiest. Chicago Opera Theater often employs young singers, on the road to established careers but not yet at Placido Domingo's level. The handful of productions I've seen there have never been of a traditional ilk-- no white-powdered wigs. This is infinitely more of a European influence as well as an appeal to the proverbial thinking person. After all, there is a challenge in all art of any merit, and Chicago Opera Theater is challenging and very artistic at all times.
OK, OK, about the show: it is strange. Sir Peter Hall's adaptation rearranges the familiar musical numbers and, as pointed out by the Tribune's von Rhein:
this Cliff's Notes "Carmen" reduces complex characters to schematic ciphers. There's no emotional development, since everything whizzes past at lightning speed, removed from a cogent dramatic context.
With so much of the music based on dance forms of the times and region (I'm thinking Flamenco-esque), I did wonder if a dance historian should be considered. This is obviously true of any Carmen production, but I was more keenly aware of this because of the bare-boned orchestra and lack of chorus.
Sandra Piques Eddy sang the title role with a most lustrous voice and seemed to have the rhythms in her body. She was a cut above all the other singers, who were merely fine. Young singers often lack the commitment that experience brings but good direction can help them accomplish so much. Which in turn delights the audience, right?
The simple set worked very well in abstract and symbol. Chris Binder's lighting design (he also did the Clemenza) was perfection! Usually the audience doesn't notice lighting unless a performer misses the mark or something goes awry. This show was so well lit that I was prompted to remember the same splendor in Clemenza: not subtle, almost campy, yet precisely perfect for the drama. Again, the film noir genre always had high-contrast lighting.
I wonder how a little Luis Bunuel surrealism would go with this adaptation? Ah, well, another genre for another time!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
COT's Clemenza
Prima la musica-- the music's the first thing, the most important. Always been true of opera or else we'd see the play!
Chicago Opera Theater's La Clemenza di Tito sounds first-rate and looks stylish too. The general director, Brian Dickie, has once again assembled a talented team, who offer wonderful music to hear in a visually appealing setting.
I've begun to believe that conductor Jane Glover has descended from the gods and can do no earthly wrong. Her conducting of this Mozart work supported every singer while transporting the audience with phrasing and timing that imbued almost every minute with glory and grandeur. Remember my recent complaint of Mozart having too many notes (see below, re: the Lyric's Abduction)? If Ms. Glover rehearsed and conducted that work, I'm sure my opinion would be different!
The young singers had splendid voices all; many also had shapely legs, which they had several opportunities to display as they were directed to roll and lie about rather a lot. No one role was more outstanding or important than another, really, each having her or his solo arias and recitatives and a handful of ensembles. The standard modern convention of casting mezzo-sopranos in roles originated by castrati confuses contemporary audiences, who are now quite accustomed to counter-tenors taking up these roles. No mention of these kinds of things in the program. COT audiences must be sophisticated enough to sort it all out.
The set piece and its furnishings reminded me ever so much of the LaSalle Bank lobby-- gleaming garbage canisters, marble benches, and all. Strong, solid visuals with little symbolic bearing do provide a tasteful backdrop. Alas, I think the singers could have done with a bit more Method than choreography. There being much regret in the libretto, the story can seem a bit sad sack. A singing actor who must sustain long lines of melancholy needs more to do than stoop forward from the thoracic vertebrae. Much of the cast sported dowager's humps. All that anguish inclined them to lean against the walls or lie on the floor quite often. I began to wonder if this is a theatrical convention missing in my education? Maybe the director meant something by it, but it was too subtle for me. How about you?
Having just watched the excellently researched HBO series "Rome," I had an easier time understanding some of the aristocratic machinations and intentions of the times. I wonder if any of the cast or the director could benefit from that same series?
Nonetheless, the music, the conducting, and the singing will transport even the least interested party. I saw several children sitting still and enjoying the sounds. When the leaning and stooping were too exasperating, I closed my eyes and heard Mozart-- how much better can it get?
Chicago Opera Theater's La Clemenza di Tito sounds first-rate and looks stylish too. The general director, Brian Dickie, has once again assembled a talented team, who offer wonderful music to hear in a visually appealing setting.
I've begun to believe that conductor Jane Glover has descended from the gods and can do no earthly wrong. Her conducting of this Mozart work supported every singer while transporting the audience with phrasing and timing that imbued almost every minute with glory and grandeur. Remember my recent complaint of Mozart having too many notes (see below, re: the Lyric's Abduction)? If Ms. Glover rehearsed and conducted that work, I'm sure my opinion would be different!
The young singers had splendid voices all; many also had shapely legs, which they had several opportunities to display as they were directed to roll and lie about rather a lot. No one role was more outstanding or important than another, really, each having her or his solo arias and recitatives and a handful of ensembles. The standard modern convention of casting mezzo-sopranos in roles originated by castrati confuses contemporary audiences, who are now quite accustomed to counter-tenors taking up these roles. No mention of these kinds of things in the program. COT audiences must be sophisticated enough to sort it all out.
The set piece and its furnishings reminded me ever so much of the LaSalle Bank lobby-- gleaming garbage canisters, marble benches, and all. Strong, solid visuals with little symbolic bearing do provide a tasteful backdrop. Alas, I think the singers could have done with a bit more Method than choreography. There being much regret in the libretto, the story can seem a bit sad sack. A singing actor who must sustain long lines of melancholy needs more to do than stoop forward from the thoracic vertebrae. Much of the cast sported dowager's humps. All that anguish inclined them to lean against the walls or lie on the floor quite often. I began to wonder if this is a theatrical convention missing in my education? Maybe the director meant something by it, but it was too subtle for me. How about you?
Having just watched the excellently researched HBO series "Rome," I had an easier time understanding some of the aristocratic machinations and intentions of the times. I wonder if any of the cast or the director could benefit from that same series?
Nonetheless, the music, the conducting, and the singing will transport even the least interested party. I saw several children sitting still and enjoying the sounds. When the leaning and stooping were too exasperating, I closed my eyes and heard Mozart-- how much better can it get?
Monday, March 30, 2009
Music of the Baroque rocks again
NO, it's not really opera, but it's related by more than half: Jane Glover, the conductor of Music of the Baroque, usually conducts one opera for the Chicago Opera Theater. Last year she conducted Don Giovanni and this year it will be another Mozart gem, La Clemenza di Tito. Also, tonight the MOB performed a section of Purcell's Fairy Queen, a semi-opera, and they started their season with a concert version of a Handel opera, so I'm not too far off-topic.
Among the many wonderful things about Chicago, the arts and humanities reign supreme for me. Art Institute? Love it! The Chicago Symphony Orchestra? World class. The Lyric Opera? Great singing. But the Music of the Baroque is almost a secret treasure; guess it's not such a secret because few seats remained empty.
Check it out:
http://www.baroque.org/about/
Great hits this evening to commemorate the births and deaths of four great and standard composers: Purcell, Handel, Haydn, and Mendelssohn. For the neophyte these are recognizable names. Many tunes and styles also resonate with non-classical music people, which isn't to say it was cliched, trite, or dull to the regular WFMT listener. Not at all. In fact, a chamber orchestra setting brings nuances to light for everyone.
Simply splendid evening made more educational by excellent program notes, neither too pedantic nor superficial. And if one can find the time, pre-concert lectures brush one up ever so refreshingly.
Bravo, Chicago. Your arts more than make up for the strange weather and politics!
Among the many wonderful things about Chicago, the arts and humanities reign supreme for me. Art Institute? Love it! The Chicago Symphony Orchestra? World class. The Lyric Opera? Great singing. But the Music of the Baroque is almost a secret treasure; guess it's not such a secret because few seats remained empty.
Check it out:
http://www.baroque.org/about/
Great hits this evening to commemorate the births and deaths of four great and standard composers: Purcell, Handel, Haydn, and Mendelssohn. For the neophyte these are recognizable names. Many tunes and styles also resonate with non-classical music people, which isn't to say it was cliched, trite, or dull to the regular WFMT listener. Not at all. In fact, a chamber orchestra setting brings nuances to light for everyone.
Simply splendid evening made more educational by excellent program notes, neither too pedantic nor superficial. And if one can find the time, pre-concert lectures brush one up ever so refreshingly.
Bravo, Chicago. Your arts more than make up for the strange weather and politics!
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