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/

San Francisco Opera's "Otello"

November 13, 2009

In constructing Shakespeare's beautiful three-legged table, San Francisco Opera has provided two legs of world-champion talent. In the title role, South African tenor Johan Botha opens with the Moorish captain's ringing cry of "Esultate!" and continues in just that vein, using his mighty instrument to hurl Zeus-like bolts from the stage. Then, in the first-act love duet, he demonstrates that the lightning bolts can be tamed, producing impressively sweet passages of lyric singing. His second-act lament, "Ora e per sempre addio," is masterful.

For the second leg, Iago, Italian baritone Marco Vratogna uses subtler, craftier means. In fact, he doesn't stand out much at all in the opening act, but this makes the second-act soliloquy, "Credo in un Dio crudel, a showstopper of villainous singing. An inspiration of librettist Arrigo Boito, the Credo succeeds in spelling out Iago's motives much more directly than Shakespeare could do, and ends with a rumbling sotto voce that sends chills through the audience.

And now, for that third leg. It's not that soprano Zvetelina Vassileva doesn't possess a beautiful instrument, it's that she fails to craft her lines in a way that lines up with her character's emotions. This was most painfully apparent in the Willow Song, which fails to deliver its most necessary subtext: this is a woman who expects that her husband is going to come very soon and kill her. Dealing with a character who is, from the outset, threatening to disappear into victimhood (much like Hamlet's Ophelia), this is an opportunity that cannot be passed up. Not helping matters are the physical interactions between Vassileva and Botha. Botha is a large man whose onstage movements are problematic to begin with, but the awkward public assault of Act 3 and the comically pathetic suffocation (five seconds with a soft pillow) are inexcusable.

Nicola Luisotti was well at home with Verdi's awe-inspiring score, especially in drawing a fulsome, downright scary sound from his strings in the slashing passages of the opening thunderstorm. Peter Hall's set (from the Chicago Lyric production), makes an intriguing play on the Globe Theater. It's a pleasure to watch the machinations of the elder Verdi, who took 16 years off before composing this work, especially in his divine handling of Shakespearean dramatics. This is especialoly evident in the Act 3 Concertato, in which the entire cast expresses its amazement at Otello's behavior as Iago races around advancing several subplots in the background. The sheer efficiency is amazing.

Through Dec. 2 at War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, San Francisco. $15-$310, 415/864-3330, http://www.sfopera.com/.

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

Photo by Terrence McCarthy

San Francisco Opera's "Salome"

October 24, 2009

As a devotee of plot and character, I cannot entirely forgive Strauss's "Salome" for its cartoon figures. From its mythological origins through Oscar Wilde's play, the story's figures seem to be mere idea-messengers, human shells manipulated toward a greusome ending for purposes that verge on propaganda.

Fortunately, there are other reasons to see it, the primary one being to see if the soprano can actually pull of the multiple demands of the title role: dramatic vocalization, a lengthy dancing/stripping scene, and performing the world's only necrophiliac love aria. In all categories, I'd have to give Nadja Michael an A. Michael gives the massively troubled teen a self-involved intensity, delivers the kinds of searing top-notes that befit the actions and the score, and dances better than any opera singer in the world (and perhaps better than 20 percent of professional dancers). As far as her physical attributes, let's just say that she makes a convincing argument against the fat-Viking-lady stereotype (on the other hand, let's just say "Yowza!").

Sean Curran does a fine job of choreographing the Dance of the Seven Veils, managing to trigger plenty of Salome's sensuality (including an enticing flash of nudity) without inspiring the men in the front row to begin tossing dollar bills. The gore is also handled well: the life-cast of Greer Grimsley's head leaks enough blood to stock a Red Cross bank for a week, and is genuine enough to convey the horror of the scene.

When he actually has his head, Grimsely is fantastic, taking what could be dull biblical condemnations and investing them with power through his thunderous baritone. (His backstage pronouncements were delivered with the help of a megaphone fashioned from the bell of a sousaphone.) Russian mezzo Irina Mishura does well with the double-scorned mother Herodias, but British tenor Kim Begley fails to deliver the real power behind Herod's lechery.

With its use of modern tonalities, and absolutely vicious brass and percussion, its amazing to think that Strauss created this score in 1905. Consider just one of its innovations: Strauss wrote Jokanaan's (John the Baptist's) music around the tonal center of C, and Salome's around C#, thus guaranteeing that every time they met, they would produce nothing but dissonance. This happens most notably at the climax of Salome's final line, a musical event known as the "Salome chord."

Bruno Schwengl's production design follows the current trend toward minimalism, creating a shadowbox of golds and blacks that culminates in Jokanaan's cell, which resembles the aperture of a lens, creating the feeling that we are standing inside of an old-fashioned camera. His costumes are an odd hybrid of post-apocalyptic sci-fi and biblical, although Salome's white dress more resembles the one worn by Marilyn Monroe in "The Seven-Year Itch."

Nicola Luisotti's orchestra was astounding and powerful, although his stage notes promise a preponderance of piano and pianissimo that never comes. Against this artful cacophony - which propels the action forward in a way that almost drives the listener to distraction - the silences before the moment of execution create a rich Hitchcockian suspense.

Through Nov. 1, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness, San Francisco. $15-$310, 415/864-3330, http://www.sfopera.com/.

Image: Nadja Michael. Photo by Terrence McCarthy.

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

San Francisco Opera, "La fille du regiment"

Oct. 19, 2009

The co-production idea is reaching extreme proportions these days, as a production that has already seen New York, London and Vienna touches down in San Francisco. The show is comically brilliant, highlighted by the physical humor of soprano Diana Damrau and the inventive direction of Laurent Pelly.

Although the stated influences are Laurel and Hardy, Damrau's performance is distinctly Carol Burnett, a combination of ragged red hair, the willingness to be homely and unladylike (apropos for a girl raised by soldiers) and absolute fearlessness. In Act I, she laments her agreement to marry a member of the regiment then runs to a pile of laundry and dumps herself on top of it, leaving her butt straight up in the air. During the infamous music lesson in Act II, Damrau sees her prim white dress as no obstacle to falling directly on the self-same body part, creating a priceless image of frustration.

The bonus is Damrau's voice, which shimmers in the high pianissimos like a diamond, particularly in her touching farewell to the regiment, "Il faut partir" (the aria reminds me of "Una furtiva lagrima" from "L'Elisir d'amore," both of them surprising passages of pathos in the midst of absurd farces). Her many cadenzas are as agile as gymnasts, and she has an uncanny sense for using the standard facial movements of vocal production to accentuate the current physical gag.

Juan Diego Florez lives up to every bit of his reputation as the hapless lover Tonio. Florez emanates an everyman charm, and delivers all nine high C's of the call to arms "Pour mon ame/Qual destino" with incredible ease. Meredith Arwady, a rookie alumna of SFO's Merola Program, gives a masterfully comic performance of the mezzo role, the Marquise of Berkenfeld, lending immediate pizzazz to the opening barricade scene and throwing a few Victor Borge tricks into her piano playing in the priceless music-lesson scene. Bass-baritone Bruno Pratico gives the captain, Sulpice, an amiable presence, and mezzo Sheila Nadler is just a rip and a half as the Duchess of Krakenthorp.

Chantal Thomas's set design is absolutely fascinating, a regimental encampment built on a smattering of gigantic maps, followed by a tilt-a-whirl music parlor balanced precariously on those same maps, rolled up. Pelly and choreographer Karine Girard augment the action with three priceless dance scenes: a waltz of clothesline long-johns (or perhaps a can-can), a ballet of suspiciously hairy housemaids, and an entrance minuet of fantastically crotchety senior citizens. And kudos to the SFO chorus, which excels in these scenes and with the rapscallious gents of the regiment.

Through Oct. 31, War Memorial Opera House, 301 Van Ness. $15-$310, 415/864-3330, http://www.sfopera.com/

Image: Diana Damrau as Marie. Photo by Cory Weaver

"Yeah, Donizett does all light stuff, right? Just like Gilbert & Sullivan."
--overheard in the parking garage, a lady who has apparently not seen "Lucia di Lammermoor"

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