San Francisco Opera's "Siegfried"

June 17, 2011

The third installment of San Francisco’s lively American Ring Cycle is a knockout, a “Siegfried” of unparalleled physicality and imagination. Director Francesca Zambello and her forces have created a five-hour opera that plays like a two-hour action flick.

The sense of theatricality is evident from the rise of the curtain, in the incredible level of detail in Mime’s trailer-trash abode: burned-out camper (check), propane tanks (check), stacked cases of Rheingold beer (check), engine block that serves as an anvil (check?). The oddly hateful relationship between Siegfried and his foster father is amped up by the hyperactivity of its players. Tenor Jay Hunter Morris comes across as a big-boy football player, rambling around the acreage and sitting with his legs out to either side as he threatens his “daddy.” (I’ll leave this place forever, happy to be rid of you!”)

Tenor David Cangelosi, meanwhile, turns Mime’s nervous energy into a kinetic sideshow, dancing on the trailer roof, performing cartwheels and generally being a goofy evil gnome. He also delivers vocally, with a deliciously acerbic tone that suits his character. The scene is also helped by an ingenious bear suit, allowing super Christopher R.T. Smith to look so authentic it’s a little unsettling.

Wotan makes his appearance as The Wanderer dressed as The Big Lebowski meets Jack Sparrow. Mark Delavan continues a remarkable evolution in the role, singing the part as roughly as Wotan is looking.

Act II rises on an industrial garage, Alberich (baritone Gordon Hawkins) watching over the place as he prepares Molotov cocktails for an attack on the ring-holder, the giant-turned-monster Fafner (bass Daniel Sumegi). Two remarkable innovations mark the scene. The Forest Bird that provides Siegfriend with all his covert information appears in the form of a brightly clad young woman (delightful soprano Stacey Tappan). Fafner appears as a scary 5,000-pound military tank, letting out fearful blasts of steam. The final encounter between Siegfried and Mime – in which the latter’s every lie is uncovered by the Tarnhelm – is as funny and slapstick as an old Lewis and Martin routine.

The first half of Act III brings Wotan back with Erda, played by contralto Ronnita Miller with the same earth-mother presence she brought to “Die Walkure.”

The final scene was another chance to see the unofficial queen of the city, Nina Stemme, as Brunnhilde. Her emotions upon waking from her years-long slumber follow a rollercoaster that feels quite genuine: the joy of seeing her her rescuing hero, the anguish of remembering her powerless state, a dip into hopelessness (the heartbreaking monologue, “Ewig war ich”). Morris plays off of this beautifully: Siegfried’s first taste of fear, a touch of shyness, followed by a recovery into his basic courage and his desire to win Brunnhilde. Morris was also conducting a battle with his voice, and eventually won out. Michael Yeargan’s set was a convincingly eroded ruin of the hilltop bunker that finished “Die Walkure.”

Notes:

A joke that few people would get: Guy runs into Brunnhilde and Siegfried at a bar, isn’t sure what to say. “So, umm… How’d you two meet?”

Mime’s forge is equipped with a sanding drum that generates sparks when struck with a hammer. Very cool.

Through July 3 at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness Avenue, San Francisco. 415/864-3330, www.sfopera.com

Image: David Cangelosi (Mime). Photo by Cory Weaver.


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

San Francisco Opera's "Die Walkure"

June 15, 2011

Despite the flying Viking ladies, Die Walkure can be a ponderous creature, its four-and-a-half hours filled with restatement, redundancy and repetition. It is, dramatically speaking, a monster, but one that has largely been tamed thanks to the vivid imagination of Francesca Zambello's American reconception.

Things begin in a deceptively frenetic fashion. After Jan Hartley's eerie projections of a chase through one of California's own redwood forests, the tenor who shall be Siegmund arrives at a backwoods cabin seeking sanctuary. The wife is nice enough - in fact, she looks alarmingly familiar - but hubby is a creepy survivalist wife-beater. The interior of the cabin is a hunting-lodge treasure trove: wood paneling, trophies of both the brass and stuffed-animal variety, and enough weaponry to start a militia. Australian bass-baritone Daniel Sumegi is captivating, playing hubby Hunding like a volcano that could blow at any second, while German soprano Anja Kampe conducts the tightrope walk of the abused wife, alternately comforting and fearing her psycho-spouse. Brandon Jovanovich is perfect as Siegmund, bringing to the role an athletic physicality and an absolutely gorgeous voice - particularly in the Spring Song, "Wintersturme wichen dem Wonnemond," that initiates the love affair with Sieglinde, his rediscovered twin sister. (Yes, kind of creepy.)

The Act I tension manages to rise even further in Act 2, thanks to a magnificently dysfunctional family of gods, stationed in the boardroom of their New York Valhalla skyscraper before a god-sized black-and-white photo of the skyline. Baritone Mark Delevan delivers a much more robust Wotan than in Das Rheingold, perhaps freed up by the god's increased power (while performing the two on consecutive nights, no less). The same is true of mezzo Elizabeth Bishop, who makes the most of much juicier material. Given the possibility of a justified righteousness given Wotan's infidelities, her Fricka opts instead for extortion, demanding her hubby preserve the sicko Hunding's marriage instead of the twisted twin-tryst of his beloved Siegmund. "I cannot restrain true passion," says Wotan. Retorts Fricka, "Beings like us do not trouble ourselves with such riff-raff." They are both truly hateful, and one fears for Brunnhilde, the ping-pong ball in the middle.

Swedish soprano Nina Stemme has put her stamp on Brunnhilde. She performs with a kinetic tomboyish energy while still leaving herself open to vulnerability. Her voice follows a similar pattern: richly thunderous in her calls to the battlefield, but also, in quiet moments, exceedingly captivating - as in the beginning of her defense to Wotan, "War es so schmalich." She also has a fantastic collection of coats , a style I call "Matrix Aviatrix." During her covert defense of Siegmund under the astonishing frame of Michael Yeagen's freeway-underpass battleground, it's interesting to compare Jovanovich's supremely natural movements with Stemme's - wholly unnatural and yet irresistible. She is forever on her toes, like a basketball point guard, leaning forward, ready for the next sudden burst of energy.

Brunnhilde fails in her defense, makes off with the widowed Sieglinde, now pregnant with the future hero Siegfried, and flies away to another stunning vista, the home bunker of the Valkyries, who drop in from the flies as World War II paratroopers. The conceit and the lively performance of the eight sisters fashions a whole new package for the Ride of the Valkyries. Their Valhallan squadron is represented by large photos of actual American casualities, from the Civil War to Iraq.

Once the angry Wotan enters the picture, the scene drags on (as did the love scene between the twins) as he hesitates and ponders and hesitates some more regarding the punishment he must bring down on Brunnhilde. This could be the price of an updated setting. Dress a god as a human and we just don't let him get away with as much. Painting himself into a corner to preserve his precious power and screw as many women as possible, Wotan has now decided to take it out on his daughter on a technicality. Under these terms, even the song to Brunnhilde's "bright eyes" rings hollow. After a long, long wait, however, the audience is rewarded by a ring of fire that is simultaneously dazzling and scary.

Donald Runnicles and his orchestra play so gorgeously - particularly the much-heralded brass - that I feel like I take them for granted. That said, I send them a "Bravi!" and look forward to more.

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

Image: Nina Stemme (Brünnhilde). Photo by Cory Weaver.




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

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.