Das Rheingold, San Francisco Opera

June 14, 2011


This idea of an American Ring Cycle is pretty preposterous. Ill-conceived real estate deals? High-powered executives fomenting resentment toward blue-collar workers? Come on! That would never happen in America.

Sarcasm aside, the idea of a Ring festooned in American iconography - a longtime dream of stage director Francesca Zambello - is fitting not only from square one, but at square one, as the Rhinemaidens protect their River of Gold. Rivers of gold? That's the very reason that San Francisco was founded.

Let's begin by giving you a quick rundown of said Americanisms. The maidens are dressed as Gold Rush saloon girls. Alberich appears in overalls and a miner's cap. In Scene 2, the gods are dressed in light-colored 1920s picnicwear - a la the Kennedys, or perhaps the Gatsby clan. Wotan wears a blazer and jodhpurs, and Donner's hammer is a croquet mallet. He and Froh wear the hard-hats of general contractors as they review blueprints for Valhalla. The blue-collar giants Fasolt and Fafner are dropped in on a steel beam, taken from those iconic photos of New York skyscraper workers. They are dressed in denim overalls and work caps, and their extremities have been extended by metallic fingers and black stilt-boots. The gods enter Valhalla courtesy of a cruise ship gangway.

Zambello's touches (and those of costume designer Catherine Zuber and set designer Michael Yeargan) enliven the action without intruding on it. This invigoration is furthered by the intriguing projections of Jan Hartley (a primordial soup for the famed E-flat prelude, Arizona caves for the trip to Alberich's underworld) and the ceaselessly inventive lighting by Mark McCullough.

Given such a fresh new look, it's easy to find new thoughts on Wagner's epic. Such as, how early and blatantly he proclaims his theme. Alberich is able to steal the Rheingold only by forswearing love, and there you have it: love versus power, for the rest of the Cycle. ("So the gold is safe," declares a maiden. "Who would give up love?")

The second epiphany comes in the trap of rooting for the declared protagonist, no matter what. This is a human habit, one that has led many readers to find themselves, in Nabokov's "Lolita," empathizing with a pedophile. In the case of Das Rheingold, it is important to realize that Wotan is a complete ass. He offers his sister-in-law as payment for Valhalla, intends all along to screw the giants out of any payment at all, and eventually covers his rear-end by stealing from Alberich. Sadly, Wall Street is currently occupied by thousands of Wotans.

Wotan's henchman/lawyer Loge is even slimier, but he's also the first guy you would invite to a cocktail party. Czech tenor Stefan Margita makes use of stabbing marcatos and lively enunciation to fork Loge's tongue even further, giving the production a welcome serving of cynical wit. Bass-baritone Gordon Hawkins brings an animal presence to Alberich, and everything about Italian bass Andrea Silvestrelli's Fasolt is gigantic: the voice, the size, the presence. The Rhinemaidens - Stacey Tappan, Lauren McNeese and Renee Tatum - are comely both physically and musically, giving the sunrise hymn to the gold a delicate three-part rapture. Contralto Ronnita Miller performs the Earth spirit Erda with a sense of calm power.

Other notes:

- Not very nice to begin a two-and-a-half-hour intermissionless production with all those images of water.

- Nice final-act brotherly beat-down by Daniel Sumegi as Fafner. Watch out for those quiet ones.

- The supertitles are fresh, as well. Alberich leaves the maidens with "Flirt in darkness, you slimy sluts!"

- Provocative choice: On the brink of her release, Freia seems to have fallen prey to Stockholm Syndrome, clinging to Fasolt like a smitten teenager. Perhaps it's that old saying about large feet...

- After Erda clearly warns Wotan to give up the ring, and then repeats the warning, he answers with, "Your words are mysterious." What an ass.

- The Nibelungs are awesomely creepy, courtesy of raggy outfits and the ghastly orange lighting of Alberich's mine.

The Ring Cycle, through July 3, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco, California. 415/864-3330, www.sfopera.com.

Image: Andrea Silvestrelli (Fasolt) and Daniel Sumegi (Fafner). Photo by Cory Weaver


Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and the author of the novel/CD "Operaville," available at amazon.com.

The Irene Dalis Vocal Competition

May 21, 2011

The Fifth Annual Irene Dalis Vocal Competition was blessed with some awesomely good young singers, a few welcome moments of mirth and the reappearance of its namesake, the Met legend and Opera San Jose founder, who returned after a nasty car accident and subsequent hospital stay. Miss Dalis was greeted with a much-deserved standing ovation.



The competition is a tribute to that form-within-a-form, the aria, and should not be confused with an opera performance contest. (Speaking to a favorite singer who didn't make the finals, I told her that her own talents take a full three-hour opera to make themselves known, which is precisely why I like her so much.) The Dalis Competiton also carries an intriguing element of chance. Each singer submits several arias, and begins by performing one of their own choosing. The second entry is requested on-the-spot by the three-judge panel.



It's much fun to turn this into a handicapping affair, and this year I fared pretty well, picking two out of three on the opera exacta. One of my choices was the winner, Alexandra Lobianco, who was listed in the program as coming from Russia but actually hails from St. Petersburg, Florida. (Whoops!) Lobianco began with Turandot's challenging "In questa reggia" and sang with great power, shaking the walls of the California Theater with her dramatic soprano. She also went against the evening's animated trends and delivered the piece from a static posture, an excellent choice for the Ice Princess. The judges then took her to middle Puccini with Tosca's "Vissi d'arte," perhaps seeking a sensitive side to her skill-set - which is exactly what she delivered.



Second Prize went to California baritone Evan Brummel, whose primary skill is that ineffable quality we call "presence." He simply took over the stage, with a powerful rendering of Rigoletto's "Pari siamo," displaying a high range that was quite affecting. He finished his set with Faust's "Avant de quitter ces lieux" and its thunderous final phrase. Opera San Jose fans will be happy to know that Brummel will be performing with the company in the 2011-12 season.



Third prize went to local favorite tenor Christopher Bengochea, a local favorite who has gone from ringing lyric to muscle-car spinto and now back to an blend of the two that is quite moving. He began with the grand "O Paradis!" from Meyerbeer's "L'Africaine" and was asked to sing "Parmi veder le lagrime," the more challenging of the Duke's pieces from Rigoletto. Bengochea was so intent on his opening aria that he was halfway into Daniel Lockert's piano intro before he realized he hadn't told the audience exactly what he was going to sing.



The rest of the finalists brought highlights aplenty. Guyana soprano Shawnette Sulker began the evening with a vigorous reading of Die Zauberflote's "Der Holle Rache," creating a buzz by employing a few optional notes in the famed staccato passages (and what an intelligent audience to notice such small changes!). Soprano Jennie Litster sang "O luce di quest'anima" from Donizetti's Linda di Chamounix with incredibly seamless phrasing. Soprano Jasmina Halimic employed Deniro-level acting with "Tutto nel cor" from Mozart's Idomeneo, channeling Electra's lunacy so intensely that we were a little concerned for her health. After recovering from some early breathiness, soprano Rebecca Davis played Dvorak's Song to the Moon with ultimate tenderness.



I was also impressed with the audience's impartiality. Faced with five of ten singers with Opera San Jose connections, they agreed with the judges and voted Lobianco the Audience Favorite. This added $5,000 to her $15,000 First Prize. Second prize was $10,000, Third $5,000, and the other finalists took home $2,000 apiece. Soprano Jouvanca Jean-Baptiste won an additional $1,000 from the Wagner Society for her performance of "Traft ihr das Schiff im meere an" from Die Fliegende Hollander. The $50,000 total came from the same anonymous donor who has funded the previous four competitions.

Photo by Robert Shomler



Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and author of the novel Operaville, currently available at amazon.com

Opera San Jose, La Boheme

April 23, 2011

By Michael J. Vaughn

For the simple reason that the critic has now seen 637 Bohemes (and, yes, tends to exaggerate), let’s take this review in a highly randomized fashion. Beginning with…

1) The wine glasses. For years, I have experienced a vague irritation over OSJ’s refusal to put anything fluid in its glasses. Is this a union thing? Worker safety? Lack of a liquor license? But they’ve worked out a nice compromise, painting a strip of red at the bottom of their glasses so they at least appear to contain wine. Hey, it’s a step forward.

2) In the barely controlled chaos of the Café Momus scene, the company threw in a juggling stilt-walker. Nice touch!

3) I’m always intrigued by the carefully timed gate-shouts of the workers and milkmaids that begin Act 3. (I know they’re difficult, because they’re so often messed up.) Not this time. Conductor David Rohrbaugh and his choristers were right on the mark.

4) Love the addition of a bathtub to the garret set – especially since it was used most often for dining. Colline, in fact, dined while seated inside. The bonhomie amongst the boys was first-rate, with special marks for baritone Daniel Cilli as a sprightly Schaunard. OSJ is blessed with male performers these days, and the man-heavy Boheme certainly illustrates the point.

5) How nice, when you lose a Rodolfo and Musetta to voice issues, to call the Bengochea household and get some handy replacements. Hubbie Christopher is taking Rodolfo for the alternate cast. Wife Sandra – lately focusing her talents on stage directing – takes over the Café Momus scene like Rosalind Russell taking over Auntie Mame. The latest addition to her comic tricks is an absurdly long kiss with Marcello (baritone Torlef Borsting), and the way she blurts out her sudden affliction (Musetta’s excuse to get rid of her annoying patron) is priceless.

6) Each new viewing reveals another spot where Puccini foreshadows or reprises his aria motifs. This one, for me, was a whisper of “Che gelida manina” as Rodolfo mentions an article he has to write for The Beaver. (And perhaps while I’m writing it a consumptive beauty will appear at my doorstep.)

7) And while we’re on Rodolfo, Alexander Boyer has such a gorgeous lyric tenor – and delivers it with such ease – that you almost have to hate him. Hard to hate him, though, since he radiates an innocent, slightly awkward quality that makes a perfect match for Rodolfo.

8) Soprano Jasmina Halimic enjoys these same advantages – she just looks like Mimi, and also possesses a gorgeous lyric tone, so broad and buttery at the top that it evokes thoughts of Tebaldi. (All in all, these two are enough to make an opera fanatic pass out.) Halimic’s lines are strikingly spare, more involved with character than display, but she does provide some enchanting dynamic swells – notably in a unison line with Boyer in “O soave fanciulla.” The real revelation, however, is Mimi’s dialogue with Marcello in Act 3, as she relates her recent breakup with Rodolfo and her worries about her health. Halimic and stage director Timothy Near have fashioned a Mimi tormented by shadows, bringing an intensity to this scene that I’ve never witnessed.

Image: Alexander Boyer and Jasmina Halimic. Photo by Robert Shomler


Through May 8, California Theatre, 345 South First Street, San Jose. $51-$101, 408/437-4450,www.operasj.org.

Michael J. Vaughn is the author of the novel Operaville, available at amazon.com.

Opera San Jose's "Barber"

Il Barbiere di Siviglia

Opera San Jose
February 12, 2011

By Michael J. Vaughn

Opera Santa Barbara artistic director Jose Maria Condemi took some time out to unleash his (Groucho) Marxist talents on the Barber, filling every available quarter-rest with comic anarchy: the triangle gag, the bad mustache gag, the Bugs Bunny carrot gag, the upside-down book gag, the zone defense gag, the inexplicable apple gag, and especially the singing-from-the-diaphragm gag. Just to name a few.

Oddly, this fenetic evening had a bit of a slow start. Bryan Nies and the orchestra gave a lackluster reading of the overture, though they certainly made up for it later. Krassen Karagiozov offered a solid account of the Largo Factotum, but I’m going to be insanely demanding and ask him for ten percent more energy. Overall, however, the baritone’s performance was a fine example of going with your strengths. His open expression and curly-forelock wig give him a whimsical Danny Kaye aura, so he performed the part with more playfulness and less craftiness than most.

The production brings out the comic potential of Count Almaviva, who enters as an ingenue and soon turns to daffy hijinks. Tenor Michael Dailey took the physical flair he showed in last season’s Cosi and turned up the volume. His drunken soldier brought flashbacks of Richard Pryor’s ‘70s wino routines, and the Liberace arm movements behind the harpsichord were priceless. His musical highlight came in the haunting, high passages of the guitar serenade, “Se il mio nome.”

Betany Coffland’s turn as Rosina – together with last season’s Cenerentola – should confirm her genius in the special discipline of bel canto mezzo. Her performance of “Io sono docile” was astoundingly agile - and also funny. She rolled an r at her snoopy housemaid as if it were a dagger. She also brought out the easily overlooked beauty of the music-lesson rondo (even when it’s a joke, Rossini’s music is divine). Theatrically, Coffland gave the role an extra measure of feistiness, a welcome choice.

Bass Silas Elash brought his velvet foghorn to a Dr. Bartolo who’s got a bit of a vicious streak himself, and delivered the intimidating passages of patter with the ease of an auctioneer. (When the rest of the principals joined in at the Act I finale, it was like an argument between several machine guns.) Bass-baritone Isaiah Musik-Ayala shone with Basilio’s delicious Scandal Aria (“La calunnia e un venticello”). And mezzo Tori Grayum did an excellent job with the opera’s thesis aria, “Il vecchiotto cerca moglie,” performing a pipe-smoking housemaid Berta in the finest Charlize Theron playing-ugly-for-the-Oscar tradition.

Matthew Antaky’s sets display a superb sense of detail. The Tuscan interior would transfer quite readily to many of the houses being built in California. The production’s costumery is quite dashing, particularly Rosina’s dress and the off-shoulder capes of Almaviva and Figaro (Alyssa Oania, original designs by Cathleen Edwards). Andrew Whitfield’s chorus added much to the liveliness, particularly in the aforementioned Act I finale.

Oh, and also the Harlem Globetrotters’ confetti-in-a-bucket gag. And the tongue gag. And the sneezing-in-the-hand gag.

Through February 27, California Theatre, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $51-$101, 408/437-4450, www.operasj.org. Alternating casts.

Image: Betany Coffland as Rosina, Silas Elash as Dr. Bartolo. Photo by Pat Kirk.

Michael J. Vaughn is author of the novel Operaville, with a companion CD by soprano Barbara Divis, available at amazon.com.

Opera San Jose's "Tosca"

November 14, 2010

It's always a pleasure to see the young singers that Opera San Jose is developing - but perhaps even a larger pleasure to see the end results. Such was the case Sunday, when alumni Christopher Bengochea and Rebecca Davis returned to play Cavaradossi and Tosca.

It's a special time for Davis, who went directly from her OSJ residency to this summer's Merola Program in San Francisco. After a series of light lyric roles in San Jose - the Countess in Figaro, Adina in Elixir of Love - I had some doubts about her taking on Tosca, but it turns out that the darker, more dramatic side is where her voice more naturally "wants to go," as she puts it, and it certainly comes across onstage. Her Floria is downright ferocious, particularly in the dark, foreboding passages as Scarpia lures her into the trap of jealousy. She begins "Vissi d'arte" in a prone position and taps into her lyric side to produce a beautifully tiered three-step dynamic drop from the final top-note.

Bengochea's transformation continues to be a highly entertaining ride. He began his OSJ career as the ultimate lirico but has matured into a forceful spinto. Sunday, his instrument was a bit of a wild beast - he strained at the upper reaches of "Recondita armonia" - but once he warmed up the results were fantastic. His "E lucevan" was heart-wrenching, and he followed with a tender reading of the oft-overlooked "Dolci mani," Cavaradossi's tribute to the sweet hands that were forced to kill on his behalf. (A Pucciniphile can't help flashing on "Che gelida manina.)

Current resident Torlef Borsting did superbly with Scarpia, favoring "nasty" and "creepy" on the Scarpia buffet. He did especially well with the divinely hypocritical Te Deum, over the excellent singing of the OSJ chorus.

Stage director Sandra Bengochea led her players through a passionate, physical production (and freely abused her husband, who at one point was dragged into Scarpia's apartment on a sheet). The hand of veteran fight director Kit Wilder shows, as well. The tussle between Cavaradossi and Scarpia's henchmen was Eastwood-grade, and the pivotal stabbing was superb: Tosca lying in wait till the Baron leaned over her, then two solid thrusts to the midsection with a shiny, nasty-looking knife. The torture scene was agonizing and visceral, punctuated by a scream from (Christopher) Bengochea that was downright primal. The clincher was Davis's leap from the parapets, which was purposeful and fearless, with a defiant look back at her pursuers.

The orchestra under David Rohrbaugh played well, with the exception of some sour strings in the third-act reprise of the "Mia gelosa" theme. The creaking doors to the Attavanti chapel and the torture room were nice, authentic touches. And Tosca's second-act gown - a black-and-gold ensemble designed by Elizabeth Poindexter - was divine. Supertitle of the evening: "He's dead - now I forgive him."

Through November 28, California Theater, 345 S. First Street, San Jose. $51-$101, 408/437-4450, operasj.org.

Image: Christopher Bengochea as Cavaradossi. Photo by Pat Kirk.




Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and novelist. His latest book, Operaville, is set for release in early 2011, with a companion CD by soprano Barbara Divis. Available at amazon.com.

San Francisco Opera, Janacek's "The Makropulos Case"

On those infrequent occasions when I see an opera for the first time, I do my best to not read a word about it beforehand. I prefer to ingest it purely in its stage form. This paid off greatly in this case, serving to increase my enjoyment of soprano Karita Mattila's mesmerizing. Playing opera singer Emilia Marty, Mattila pops into the Prague law offices of Dr. Kolenaty, seemingly as an interested layperson. She proceeds to singlehandedly untangle a century-old inheritance case, employing bits of information she should have no way of possessing.

What's even more intriguing is her physical presence. With bird-like features, cutting eyes, a sharp sweep of blonde hair and a lithe, athletic figure, Mattila spends the first act striking one unnatural, uncomfortable pose after another, making the act of getting herself into an armchair into a symphony of effort. She has no concern for social constructs - especially personal space - and succeeds in casting a spell over every male onstage (the lone female, apprentice singer Kristina, is already a disciple). The most apparent victim is Albert Gregor, the man who has just inherited a fortune thanks to her intercession. The intrigue doubles in the second act, when Marty, still dressed as the clown Pierrot, appears backstage to encounter Count Hauk-Sendorf (Matthew O'Neill), an old eccentric who claims to be her former lover. Mattila reacts to the reunion by performing a bit of flamenco, doing the splits and rolling around with the Count in one gymnastic position after another. (Mattila is reported to be a fan of yoga.)

Being a mystery, the story depends largely on exposition, and Janacek creates a brilliant frame for delivering it. He extends the hurly-burly orchestral action of the overture (meant to symbolize the hyperactivity of 20th-century life) while his bureaucrats deliver the case history in rapid single-note parlandos, handing it off from the clerk Vitek (tenor Thomas Glenn) to Dr. Kolenaty (bass-baritone Dale Travis) to Gregor, played by tenor Miro Dvorsky. Dvorsky does a superb job of leaping from these straight lines into the high-lying flights of Gregor's newfound passion. German bass-baritone Gerd Grochowski as Prus, the loser of the case, provides the only calm presence, and the only man with half a chance at Emilia's weird affections.

Mattila possesses a strong lyric instrument, and bends it in some astonishing ways to make the most of Janacek's quirky score. Her more traditional lyric side comes into play in Act III, as Emilia resigns herself to her fate, singing a slow waltz theme as the orchestra modulates through several keys beneath her. The performance of the orchestra under Czech conductor Jiri Belohlavek is impressively robust, especially in the overture.

The production design by Frank Philipp Schlossman is a model of mid-century modernism, the law office a monochrome curve of packed bookshelves, the backdrops shaded with the crosshatch style often used in comic books. The set employs large illuminated clocks bearing the actual performance time - time being a primary theme of the story. The costumes are also '50s-through-'60s, including Emilia's striking strapless ball gown in Act III, inspired by a Givenchy design.

It's understandable that Makropulos is not performed more often; its requirement for virtuosic singing actors is simply too demanding. Working with director Olivier Tambosi, however, Mattila has developed the character in this, her role debut, to an astounding level. One could see her singlehandedly inspiring a new wave of productions.

Through Nov. 28, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco. Sung in Czech with English supertitles. $20-$360. 415/864-3330, sfopera.com.

Image: Karita Mattila (Emilia Marty). Photo by Cory Weaver.
Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and novelist. His latest book, Operaville, will be relased in early 2011 with a companion CD by soprano Barbara Divis. Available at amazon.com.

Domingo at San Francisco Opera

Alfano’s Cyrano de Bergerac

October 30, 2010

It seems silly to even express an opinion about Placido Domingo. The Spanish tenor long ago earned his place as one of history’s great performers, performing more than 130 roles, becoming a respected conductor and demonstrating a ceaseless thirst for artistic challenges.

Domingo’s latest pursuit is the rehabilitation of Franco Alfano, the poor sap who had to try and write the final scene of Puccini’s Turandot after the composer’s death. Domingo performed the American debut of Alfano’s Cyrano in 2005 at the Met, and recently brought the opera to San Francisco for its debut there.

Alfano’s score certainly reflects some of the directions that Puccini was headed at the end of his life – particularly in through-composing– but the more prominent influence may be Massenet. Alfano’s Cyrano shies away from melody in pursuit of a recitative-like style (referred to as parlando) that reflects the patterns of natural speech.

This drama-friendly approach and the enormity of Rostand’s character make fine dining for Domingo, whose acting skills have rarely been matched. But don’t think the vocals are a cake-walk – Alfano loves the higher reaches, and Domingo, nearing his 70^th birthday, shows not the slightest hesitation in delivering those robust spinto top-notes time and again.

With its Roxane, SFO has found a glorious match for Domingo’s power: Spanish soprano Ainhoa Arteta, who brings a strong, creamy tone, as well as generous helpings of wit. The latter showed itself especially in the second act, as Roxane dupes De Guiche (baritone Stephen Powell) into delaying the deployment of her beloved Christian. Arteta also shines in Roxane’s final-scene aria about Christian’s (Cyrano’s) letters, some of the most soaring passages in Alfano’s score.

Brazilian tenor Thiago Arancam gives a sympathetic reading of Christian (whose saving grace is his understanding that he is witless). I also enjoyed baritone Timothy Mix as Cyrano’s aide, Le Bret, and baritone Lester Lynch, who lent a commanding presence to Carbon, the captain of the Guards. Musical theater veteran Martin Rojas-Dietrich was delightfully over-the-top as theater star Montfleury.

The production is even more action-packed than spring’s La Fanciulla del West, a quality insisted upon by Domingo and stage director Petrika Ionesco. (At times, it felt like I went to a swordfight and an opera broke out.) The participants were actual swordfighters, drawn through auditions in Los Angeles and San Francisco, who created wonderfully chaotic battle scenes under fight director Jonathan Rider. For good measure, the company threw in a trio of stagehands rappelling from the flies in Act I.

The sets – designed by Ionesco -  were astounding, particularly Ragueneau’s bakery, which looked like a scene from Willie Wonka’s chocolate factory. A particular techno-geek thrill came from the leaves in the final-act tree, which contained electrodes allowing them to fall on command from a backstage switchboard.

The undercover trio of the balcony scene was as ravishing as one might expect, Domingo delivering Cyrano’s poetry over the ebbs and swells of Alfano’s orchestration. Still, nothing could compare with the heartstopping intensity of the final scene, as Cyrano, dying of a headwound, finally reveals his love for Roxane. The sight of Domingo crawling toward his plumed hat, gasping Cyrano’s last wishes, is just another indelible moment in a career containing thousands.

Through Nov. 12, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Ave., San Francisco. $20-$360, 415/864-3330, www.sfopera.com. Ticket availability extremely limited.

Image: Ainhoa Arteta (Roxane) and Plácido Domingo (Cyrano de Bergerac). Photo by Cory Weaver

Michael J. Vaughn is a 25-year opera critic and the author of Operaville, an opera sex novel which will be released in early 2011 with a companion CD by soprano Barbara Divis. Available at amazon.com.