San Francisco Opera, Wagner's "Die Walkure," June 19, 2010

One of the payoffs to a well-executed shift of setting and locale is a higher level of humanity from your characters, as if the big medieval costumes have been keeping you from seeing the person - or god - inside. This is certainly true of SFO's "American" Ring cycle, which lends tremendous insights to the game of familial power inside Die Walkure.


Escaping a tribal battlefield, Siegmund finds his long-lost twin sister Sieglinde trapped in a loveless marriage to one of them. Director Francesca Zambello turns her first trick of the evening by consulting her ancient Norse-to-modern American translator and making of the brutally possessive husband, Hunding, a groping, sword-loving militia man. Bass Raymond Aceto fills the role with a hateful flair.

Zambello's next stroke is to take Valhalla to a boardroom atop a New York skyscraper, and where better to find overpowerful figures who mess with the lives of mortals to settle petty squabbles? Later, the Valkyries drift onstage as WWII paratroopers, carrying oversize photos of the heroes they have recruited for the defense of Valhalla.

Set designer Michael Yeargan absolutely dazzles, especially in his Act II setting beneath an eroded freeway overpass; the structure's columns evoke Greek ruins, while the little touches (the standard torn-out car seat serving as a couch) bring a divine seediness. Jan Hartley, meanwhile, gives life to all of the settings with constantly shifting cloudscapes (and the lightning strikes are pretty impressive).

For pure vocal virtuosity, you can't beat the golden heldentenor of British singer Christopher Ventris as Siegmund, particularly in Act I's Sword soliloquy. Dutch soprano Eva-Maria Westbroek delivers in kind, at her best in Act III, as Brunnhilde works to talk her out of her depression over her twin's death and into the work of saving their chosen child, Siegfried.

The principal conflict, however, is father and daughter, and here the acting is superb. Baritone Mark Delevan plays Wotan as a god trapped by his own power. His burly voice plays well in the quiet, somber moments of Act III, as Wotan faces a common father's common dilemma: how to overcome tender paternal feelings in punishing a daughter. His farewell, "Leb wohl," is heartbreaking.

General Director David Gockley appeared onstage beforehand to ask the audience's "indulgence" for soprano Nina Stemme, who performed despite a viral infection, but it was hardly necessary. After some cautious singing in the early going, the handicap was not noticeable. Stemme brought to the oft-lampooned Brunnhilde a wild, tomboyish quality, entirely appropriate to a girl who spends her free time scouring battlefields for heroes. During the tension-filled father-daughter debate of Act III, Stemme and Delevan performed the great trick of extracting intimate, everyday familial interactions from epic mythology.

Former SFO music director Donald Runnicles returned to warm ovations, and justified them by leading the orchestra in a strenuous attack on Wagner's score, especially in the lush low-string tones of the opening scene. Costume designer Catherine Zuber excelled in the subtleties of her modern outfits, giving her gods and heroes flowing overcoats to evoke the robes of an earlier day. The company continues to have fun playing with fire, in this case a ring of flames that sprouts directly from the set to protect the sleep-cursed Brunnhilde.

Image: Mark Delevan as Wotan, Nina Stemme as Brunnhilde. Photo by Cory Weaver.

Through June 30, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco. $15-$360, 415/864-3330, www.sfopera.com.

San Francisco Opera, "La Fanciulla del West," June 12, 2010

I once asked Salvatore d'Aura - a former assistant to Puccini - why La Fanciulla del West isn't performed more often. He replied that it demands a soprano of near-superhuman abilities. Watching my first-ever Fanciulla - and a near-superhuman performance by Deborah Voigt - I was reminded of last summer's SFO production of Porgy and Bess. Both works represented unprecedented fusions of ethnic forms - and both were far too ahead of their time to be truly appreciated.


Fanciulla incorporates American folk forms like ragtime (even a quote from "Camptown Races") but is clearly composed from Puccini's ever-evolving Italian palette, including oriental touches influenced by Madama Butterfly. But perhaps the more fascinating experience is witnessing Puccini's steady advance into through-composing, and his ability to turn his music on a dime to reflect temporal conditions in the drama (e.g., the snowstorm in Act II). This "crop-shot" effect would greatly influence the development of the Hollywood soundtrack. Considering his life-long obsession with theatrical realism (and a long line of exhausted librettists to prove it), it's easy to see Puccini developing into the ideal 20th-century composer, were it not for the throat cancer that cut short his life.

This realism is also reflected in Fanciulla's characters - a love triangle reminiscent of Tosca, but each of its members much more nuanced. In a gold rush mining town deprived of female company, Minnie reigns over the Polka saloon much as Tosca reigned over the concert hall. Her primary admirer, Sheriff Jack Rance, is given to Scarpia-like abuses of power, but is often held back by a tender side. And Minnie's mysterious lover, Dick Johnson - far from the idealistic artist of Cavaradossi - turns out to be a Mexican bandit trying to kick the family business.

The secret of SFO's success is a beautifully cast central trio. As Rance, Italian baritone Roberto Frontali is solid from moment one, creating an alpha-male presence in the saloon without ever seeming tyrannical. His singing is resounding and lovely, beginning with his backstory aria, "Minnie, dalla mia casa." As Dick, tenor Salvatore Licitra takes a while to warm up, not really finding his energy till the second act, but taking flight from there. His performance of the opera's only self-contained piece, "Ch'ella mi creda libero e lontano," as Dick faces the hangman's noose, is passionate and powerful, marked by gorgeous top-notes.

As for our Ms. Voigt, I literally cannot say enough. In her first-ever Minnie, she demonstrates an amazing timbral range, singing arias like the Act I "Laggiu nel Soledad, ero piccina" with a bright Italian lyricism, but pulling out her customary Lady Macbeth flamethrower for moments like the climax of Act II. Winning Dick's freedom in a card game with Rance, she throws down her cards with a delicious vengefulness. Her performance in Act 3, as she trades on her years of devoted service to save Dick from the noose, is intensely moving.

Stage director Lorenzo Mariani marshals his troops with style, creating one of the most action-packed productions I've ever seen, complete with a good old-fashioned barrom brawl choreographed by Jonathan Rider. Chorus director Ian Robertson and his men create a group of rowdy-but-sensitive '49ers, while Nicola Luisotti and orchestra bring out the exceptional power of Puccini's score.

The hometown crowd was well aware of the opera's unique California setting, particularly when someone announced that Dick "must be from San Francisco - he wants his whiskey with water." A poignant supporting turn is delivered by tenor Steven Coles as bartender Nick. Gotta love the product-placement supertitle, "It's a great day for Wells Fargo," especially with a full-page Wells Fargo ad in the program. Puccini's particular approach to through-composing often means turning a single line into a mini-aria, illustrated by Minnie's line to Dick: "How often I hoped to see you again." This seemingly simple phrase takes a dramatic upward flight before settling back down to a sudden shyness.

And then there's the Andrew Lloyd-Webber thing. The Puccini estate sued the composer for purloining the climactic phrase of Dick's opening aria, "Quello che tacete" for Phantom of the Opera's "The Music of the Night." Hearing the phrase in its original context, there's no doubt it's an exact copy. What's worse, Puccini uses it as a recurring motif for the Dick-Minnie romance, and every time it comes back my brain drags it into that insipid song like a Pavlovian dog. (The suit was settled out of court, and I think I'd like a cut.)

Voigt made her Act 3 entrance on Whiz Kid, an 11-year-old carriage horse from Martinez, then repeated the trick for her curtain call. Amazingly calm animal, and accompanied by two of its owners just in case. Voigt and Luisotti will both appear in the Metropolitan's 100th anniversary of Fanciulla's premiere (first performed at the Met December 10, 1910, with Puccini overseeing the production).

Through July 2, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco. $15-$360, 415/864-3330, www.sfopera.com.

Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and author of the award-winning opera novel Gabriella's Voice, available at amazon.com.

Image: Salvatore Licitra as Dick Johnson, Deborah Voigt as Minnie. Photo by Cory Weaver.

San Francisco Opera, Faust, June 8, 2010

Having managed to avoid "Faust" for 25 years, I look forward to never seeing it again. A glacially paced setting of Goethe's story, Gounod's opera simply fails theatrically, and its church-endorsed propaganda has not weathered the past 150 years well.
This is no fault of the forces at SFO, who gave a flawed but ambitious performance. The production's primary delight is right where it should be: bass-baritone John Relyea's Mephistopheles. Relyea delivers a prototypical black-licorice thundervoice (particularly in the second-act golden calf song, "Le veau d'or"), and he and stage director Jose Maria Condemi leave no comic stone unturned: covering the eyes of a Madonna statue during the seduction scene, coughing and waving away the special-effects smoke, dragging a harlot by the ankles. The techie tricks are nice, too, including a shattering sword, a well with an elevator and a statue that bleeds wine.

Another large presence is Brian Mulligan as Margeurite's brother Valentin. Mulligan's baritone has tremendous size and power, and he plays the role with passionate intensity, particularly in his fatal duel with Faust.

Italian tenor Stefano Secco played the milquetoast title character a little too wimpy. Vocally, he delivers tremendous top-notes, but fails to maintain his energy at the less-spectacular moments. This was true especially of the famed cavatine "Salut! demeure chaste et pure."

The most distressing disappointment came from soprano Patricia Racette as Margeurite. Racette displays a few elements of her estimable palette - her care for crafting the quiet passages, her abiity to imbue a doormat character with personality and pathos (the spinning air, "Il ne reveient pas") but her top notes were unstable, weighted down by an oversize vibrato and unclear pitch. Racette is a personal favorite, so I'm hoping she was just having a bad night.

Mezzo Daniela Mack was a complete delight as Margeurite's young admirer, Siebel (the flower song, "Faites-lui mes aveux"). Condemi and the chorus created a lively crowd for the fairgrounds scene. The nighttime garden is a marvel of blue lights (lighting designer Duane Schuler) and the final-scene stairway to heaven from the Chicago Lyric production (designer Robert Perdziola) is dazzling. Maurizio Benini and orchestra handled Gounod's elegant score with aplomb (with help from Ernest Knell's backstage organ work). Mephistopheles' gypsy-fiddler outfit is wild and fun (costume supervisor Kristi Johnson)

Through July 1 at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, San Francisco. $15-$360. 415/864-3330.

Image: soprano Patricia Racette (Margeurite) and tenor Stefano Secco (Faust). Photo by Cory Weaver.


Michael J. Vaughn is the author of the opera novel "Gabriella's Voice," available at amazon.com. The sequel, "Operaville," will be released this fall, with a companion CD of arias by soprano Barbara Divis.

Opera San Jose

Irene Dalis Vocal Competition
May 22, 2010
California Theater, San Jose, California



Soprano Danielle Talamantes won over both audience and judges in the 4th Annual Irene Dalis Vocal Competition, winning both the $15,000 Grand Prize and the $5,000 Audience Favorite Award with her performance of Meyerbeer's "Ombre legere" and "Ach, ich fuhls" from Mozart's Die Zauberflote.

For this critic - a slave of the soprano voice - handicapping the contest was a tricky chore, since Talamantes was the only soprano. The ten finalists - drawn from 90 participants in the West Coast regional opera auditions - included four mezzos, three baritones, one bass and one tenor. The job got trickier due to the showpiece nature of Meyerbeer's aria, in which Talamantes displayed masterful control and easy top-notes. But the soprano clinched my vote with her handling of the Mozart, Pamina's reaction to Tamino's shunning of her affections. Her handling of the final line, especially, was a jewel of legato phrasing. So I took my poker chip (each attendee gets one) and dropped it in the appropriate box.

The judges were James Caraher, artistic director of Indianapolis Opera; Lotfi Mansouri, former artistic director of San Francisco Opera; and Christina Scheppelmann, artistic director of Washington National Opera. Second Prize went to baritone Jonathan Beyer, who took on the difficult repetitions of John Adams' "News has a kind of mystery" from Nixon in China. Third went to baritone Jerett Gieseler, who endowed Ford's aria, "E sogno e realta" from Falstaff, with an edgy intensity. A special Wagner award went to bass Silas Elash, an Opera San Jose regular, who performed "Leb wohl, du kuhnes, herrliches Kind" from Die Walkure.

I must confess, I completely misguessed the second and third choices. My second went to mezzo Lisa van der Ploeg, who was utterly possessed by Azucena's confessional "Condotta ell'era in ceppi" from Trovatore. My third was tenor Nova Safo, who clowned his way through Beppe's Aria from Pagliacci and, in Mozart's "Il mio tesoro" produced gorgeous and amazingly breath-free lines. Two other arias of note were mezzo Kathryn Leemhuis's entertaining "What a movie!" from Bernstein's resurgent Trouble in Tahiti, and mezzo Betany Coffland's comically exasperated rendition of Dorabella's "Smanie implacabili" from Cosi fan tutte.

The competition followed the standard format of five or six arias for each singer, from which the singer picks one to perform, and the judges pick the second. Daniel Lockert did a fantastic job of handling the difficult accompaniment duties. The entire $50,000 in prize money was provided by an anonymous donor.

See operasj.org for more info and offerings for the '10-'11 season. 408/437-4450.

Image: Danielle Talamantes


Michael J. Vaughn's eleventh novel, Operaville, will be out this fall, with a companion CD of arias by soprano Barbara Divis. See barbaradivis.com for audio excerpts.

Opera San Jose

Puccini's "La Rondine"


April 24, 2010

It was a night of couples at Opera San Jose, as the company presented Puccini's elegant, understated gem. And things began with Doretta's Song, which is always an interesting phenomenon, being heard so much more often in recitals and recordings than in its dramatic context. The first surprise comes when it's presented by the tenor, playing the poet Prunier, as a fanciful story that foreshadows some of the "real" action in the opera. Prunier leaves those trademark sustenatos to the orchestra, then gives way as our prima donna, Magda, decides to finish his story in a romantic vein (Doretta rejecting the rich man for the poor student, yeah, sure).

It's not fair at all to foist these notes on a soprano five minutes into the evening, and a Magda could be forgiven for blaring her way into them, but Rebecca Davis went for the route that made her February Contessa Almaviva so touching, beginning with a tonal seed and growing it into a lovely, blossoming tree through the line. Davis's singing is an evening-length delight, at both extremes: the gem-like quiet of her Act 1 wishes for an evening out (working up her courage to escape her benefactor) or the unexpected power of her passages with her dream-lover, Ruggero.

It's a good thing she's got that power, too, because Ruggero comes in the form of Christopher Bengochea, an OSJ alum whose always sublime lyric tenor has suddenly taken on a spinto muscularity. The power of both singers comes through especially in the final quartet of the second act in Cafe Momus, er, Bullier's, "Bevo al tuo fresco sorriso," and the final anguished duet of the third-act breakup, "Ma come puoi lasciarmi." Bengochea's new sound fits well with Ruggero's scarily monogamist passions.

Our second couple is Marcello and Mus...,er, Prunier and Lisette, Magda's housemaid, who pretend to hate each other while carrying on a torrid affair - but, in fact, really do quite often hate each other. It's a great bit of fun that tenor Michael Dailey and soprano Khori Dastoor make the most of, particularly in a third-act moment of slapfight-as-foreplay (this current group of OSJ residents are the best slappers I've ever seen). With her physical gags and facial expressions, Dastoor continues to show a great facility with the underrated skills of opera comedy, and both singers offer vocal pleasures, as well: Dastoor with Lisette's sudden, powerful protestations, and Dailey with his remarkably beautiful tones above the staff (particularly in a touching flirtation in Act I).

The surest sign that stage director Jose Maria Condemi is in town is the barely controlled chaos of Cafe Momus, er, Bullier's. The atmosphere is almost cartoonish, helped not a little by the linebacker-size men in the chorus (where do we get these guys?). The act offers some lively divertimentos - for example, the dance quartet of Taggart Frost, Mary Ines, Maurice Monge and Svenja Reinschmidt - but retains the feeling that all of this is being produced spontaneously, in the style of an actual cafe. The setting of the opera's final moments - Ruggero ruined, lying on the ground as Magda exits to the call of church bells, is as beautifully arranged as a Rembrandt. (Condemi's work has hardly gone unnoticed; he was just appointed artistic director at Opera Santa Barbara.)

Larry Hancock continues to be a divine materials-at-hand set designer, outfitting Bullier's with striking blue-screen windows, and concocting an Act 3 seaside terrace with a bracing feeling of expansiveness. (The sky-screen, however, needs a little ironing toward audience-left.) The supertitle prize, meanwhile, goes to the exclamation of one of Magda's working-girl colleagues: "Money is so expensive!"

David Rohrbaugh and orchestra brought the most from Puccini's lovely score, particularly the bittersweet strings accompanying Magda's final, critical decision. The musicians showed their collective cool when the audience gave Bengochea an unexpected applause in Act 3, maintaining a tremolo until the clapping ceased, then smoothly kicking back in to Magda's response.

I can't recount how many times I have included the name Sara Beukers in my reviews, but this will apparently be the last. The wig and makeup designer has worked on 67 OSJ productions. The times I didn't mention her name were probably nights like this one, when her creations blended smoothly and effectively with the feel and action of the opera (although at this point I should re-mention her high-larious creations for the ugly sisters in "La Cenerentola"). I offer my thanks to Sara for so many years of outstanding work.

Through May 9, California Theater, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $51-$91, 408/437-4450, www.operasj.org.

Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic whose novel, "Operaville," will be released this fall.

Photo by Chris Ayers.

Opera San Jose's "Marriage of Figaro"

February 6, 2010

Thanks to stage director Peter Kozma, the folks at Opera San Jose have themselves a raucous and merry "Marriage of Figaro." In Figaro's "Non piu andrai" - poking fun at teen lothario Cherubino's exile to the military - the pair employ two small trunks as barricades and suffer a fusillade of lingerie hand grenades from Susanna, who in turn dies a tiwrling, agonizing death from a camisole missile. Picture a whole opera of this stuff. Kozma leaves no comic stone unturned, and he also encourages a high level of physicality; you've never seen a cast so fond of fondling, and slapping each other silly.

The current group of OSJ residents is well-tailored to this opera, beginning with soprano Khori Dastoor, who occupies ever cell of Susanna, housemaid eye of playwright Beaumarchais' storm. The only small complaint is her tone, which seems too covered for Susanna's traditionally saucy lyric - except, oddly, in the recitatives and the final aria, "Deh vieni, non tardar," which takes on a pleasing sultriness.

A similar tradeoff comes with baritone Brian Leerhuber, who lacks the low end for his opening aria, "Se vuol ballare," but whose agility in the higher spaces enables a nimble "Non piu andrai" and a hilarious, fast-paced "Aprite un po queglocchi," Figaro's pointed rant on womanhood. His physical gags are excellent, from a dead fall during the "Sua madre" revelation to the cuckold torments of the garden scene.

I have already developed the belief that mezzo Betany Coffland can do no wrong on a stage, and this, her first trouser role, is further evidence. Coffland plays Cherubino as the traditional cad-in-training, but one who literally cannot keep his eyes off the Countess whenever she's in the room. This bluster/blush dichotomy is a perfect summary of male teenhood, and her rendition of a boy "running like a girl" is freakin' hilarious. "Non so piu" and "Voi che sapete" are just the hummable delights one would expect, especially the touching coda of the former.

The striking thing about our royals is that they look so royal. Perhaps baritone Krassen Karagiozov is cheating, importing his classical features from Bulgaria, but he also plays well as the everfrustrated Count Dawg, er, Almaviva, especially during the jealous furies of the closet scene.

Soprano Rebecca Davis projects her nobility with graceful features and eyes that seem to radiate from the stage. She takes one of the most pathos-equipped characters in opera (especially for those who know "The Barber of Seville") and delivers in spades, employing an impressive dynamic range - from fill-the-hall forte to lean-forward piano - to shape the tender phrases of "Porgi Amor" and "Dove sono." Then, just as you're feeling gorged with music, she pairs with Susanna for "Che soave zeffiretto," the most delicious female harmonies this side of "Lakme."

It was great to have founding conductor David Rohrbaugh behind the podium, although he seemed to be having a little tempo-debate with our fiances in the opening scene. I could listen to Bartolo, bass Silas Elash, sing the phone book and be happy for hours (or perhaps a few Darth Vader quotes). Baritone Bill Welch, meanwhile, adds to his growing list of screwballs (see Guillot in September's "Manon") with the raving, purple-wigged one-man party of Don Basilio. The woodsy screen behind Larry Hancock's garden set is sublime, as was another earth-colored concoction, the Count's rococo dressing gown in Act II (costume coordinator Alyssa Oania).

I do realize that Opera San Jose has a tradition of cutting their operas to size, but the garden scene of the Count seducing his own wife when he thinks he's seducing Susanna (cited by Salieri as an example of Mozart's genius in the play "Amadeus") was sorely missed. It's an irresistible moment of conflict, sadness and humor all in one.

Through Feb. 21, California Theater, 345 S. First Street, San Jose, CA. $51-$91, 408/437-4450, operasj.org. Alternating casts.

Opera San Jose will begin its '10-'11 season with the West Coast premiere of David Carlson's 2007 "Anna Karenina" (Sept. 11-26) followed by "Tosca" (Nov. 13-18), "The Barber of Seville" (Feb. 12-27) and "La Boheme" (April 23-May 8).

Photo by Chris Ayers.

Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and author of ten novels. His latest, "The Monkey Tribe," is available at amazon.com.

Opera San Jose's "La Cenerentola"

November 14, 2009

In addition to fielding the best-looking cast ever, Opera San Jose supplied its opening night of Rossini's "La Cenerentola" with some remarkably deft coloratura singing. It was an evening that the composer himself would have enjoyed immensely.

For a Rossiniphile, there's no moment more suspenseful than the prima donna's opening aria, in which we discover if we're getting some authentic bel canto or a Verdi mezzo trying to stuff a whale through the neck of a bottle. Betany Coffland answered that question in about three seconds, embarking from Cenerentola's touching, folk-like theme song, "Una volta c'era un re" into a cadenza of lightness, agility and birdsong. Ah, relief. The rest of the evening was sheer enjoyment, all the way through the final and brilliant aria, "Non piu mesta."

Another great enjoyment is Daniel Cilli as Dandini, the squire who pretends to be the Prince so the real Prince might read the true natures of his bridal candidates. Although Dandini is a largely comic figure, his bel canto requirements are demanding, and Cilli makes the most of it, demonstrating that, yes, there is such a thing as baritone coloratura. I also enjoyed his "speed recitatives" as he mightily compressed the Prince's life story.

Vocally, our Prince, tenor Michael Dailey, remains a puzzlement. He retains a covered tone in his lower range that bugs the heck out of me, but this same technique produces absolutely gorgeous top notes. His best moment came with the initial "flirting" duet with Coffland, "Un soave non so che." The two characters cross the stage toward each other even as their voices mingle in mid-air.

Comically, the evening is a veritable buffet of goofiness. At the center is bass-baritone Isaiah Musik-Ayala, who plays the oafish father, Don Magnifico, with a wry cynicism, and possesses that rare ability to sing as if he is actually just conversing. This makes for a good contrast with the kinetic hysterics of his daughters, Clorinda and Tisbe (soprano Rebecca Schuessler and mezzo Tori Grayum), two good-looking women who show no fear in playing ugly, helped greatly by the corkscrew wigs and grotesque makeup jobs by Sara Beukers.

Sandra Bengochea continues to make her mark as a stage director, pulling a tremendous amount of energy from her players. She also finds an ingenious soluton to the second of Rossini's outmoded freeze-frame scenes, having the royal advisor Alidoro (bass Paul Murray) wander around engaging the robotic singers in gags, including a limbo contest and an Old West shootout. Brilliant.

Larry Hancock adds a nice layer of irony, both through his supertitles (my favorite: "Princikins!") and a final-act set design stolen from a Barbie Dream House, complete with thrones fashioned from butterfly wings (that's right - monarch butterflies). Anthony Quartuccio braved certain limb damage leading his orchestra through what must be the most quickly paced score ever created.

Through Nov. 29, California Theater, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $51-$91, 408/437-4450, http://www.operasj.org/

Image: Bettany Coffland and Tori Grayum as Cenerentola and Tisbe. Photo by Pat Kirk.

Read Michael's new counterculture comedy, "The Monkey Tribe," at http://www.themonkeytribe.blogspot.com/