barczablog

The Canadian Opera Company premiered their new Barber of Seville tonight at the Four Season Centre, a colourful co-production with Houston Grand Opera, Opéra National de Bordeaux and Opera Australia  directed by Joan Font, with set & costumes designed by Joan Guillén.  Rossini’s comic masterpiece is well served in this interpretation relying heavily upon the Commedia dell’Arte origins of the story as a departure point for its theatricality.  The stage-pictures they present are glorious, vibrant, throbbing with colour, and always seeming to probe the story for additional meanings.

Perhaps too many? Early on I thought we might be taking this Barber in a very serious direction –picking up clues dropped by Alek Shrader in his recent interview—when he challenged my assertion that the Count Almaviva is inevitably the good guy.  Not necessarily.  There’s at least a hint of something Marxist / materialist to problematize the relationships & the story, as this Count throws wads of money at everyone.  His decision to pretend to be poor is framed within a fundamental question about authenticity that energizes many of the scenes, his ultimate success clouded slightly by his wealth.  There are some subtle changes in the character dynamics, although that may be a result of the singers as much as the direction.

I expected Figaro to be the master – manipulator, always at the heart of the story, but that’s not what I saw tonight.  Joshua Hopkins brings a nice bel canto voice and a likeable personality to the role of everyone’s favourite barber.  Usually the Count is rescued incessantly by his tricky servant.  That’s the essence of CdA, where servants outsmart their masters, young love triumphant.

Tenor Alek Shrader (photo: (c) Peter Schaaf)

Yet it was Shrader not Hopkins who was the central figure because of this slight change in the opera’s emphasis, both dramatically (including both wacky disguises) and vocally.

I’ll be interested to see how this plays in the Ensemble Studio performance coming May 15^th, as I couldn’t tell if this was a function of the direction or the flamboyance of the performances.  Font & Guillén make the opening serenade an over-the-top bit of farce with the wacky band who play in support, even as Shrader finds all sorts of additional notes to add to both the cavatina & the cabaletta.

Alek Shrader as Count Almaviva (far right) in the Canadian Opera Company production of The Barber of Seville, 2015. Photo: Michael Cooper

From there on we seem to be sticking closely to the text as written.

The cast was strong throughout.  Serena Malfi was a wonderfully sultry Rosina with a genuinely dark mezzo-soprano colour, and wonderful chemistry with Shrader.   Renato Girolami’s Dr Bartolo was mostly good fun with a hint of genuine gravitas, especially in his domination of his ward.  Robert Gleadow added another solid portrayal as Don Basilio, with a big solid sound. Ensemble members Iain MacNeil  as Fiorello and Aviva Fortunata  (the most luscious sounding Berta I’ve ever heard) more than held their own with the more experienced cast members.

I found myself recalling Els Comediants work on La Cenerentola four years ago, a production that I still recall as one of the best things I’ve ever seen from the COC.  I can’t decide whether the issue is the match between their politics and the opera, or that they simply offered a more thorough treatment on that occasion.  You may recall that just as on that occasion we were interrogating illusion & reality, examining our assumptions about what we see vs what is mere portrayal, so too this time.  But I wonder, did they lose their nerve, or consider that what they were implying was a very dark reading?  If Almaviva is only successful because of his money, a winner due to privilege rather than merit, is that really a happy ending at all?  In contrast, the story of Cenerentola thoroughly reflects their critique of a materialist life, rewarding the one who sees life with greater enlightenment than her superficial & materialistic sisters.  In this case perhaps Font & Guillén felt conflicted or even guilty that the rich boy wins the girl, that there’s some question as to whether he wins on merit.  I’m not saying it’s not a fun production –because in the end they don’t tamper with Rossini—but there are some clear signals that they weren’t taking the text at face value, such as the final image, when the audience appears to be showered in play-money.   Is this whole critique perhaps misplaced, especially when Figaro really comes to life for the first time when he sings “All’idea di quel metallo portentoso, onnipossente, un vulcano la mia mente
già comincia a diventar,” (or in other words, “at the idea of this metal, portentous, omnipotent, a volcano begins to erupt inside me”)…?  There’s surely room for a critique, even a Marxist one, but there’s a limit. Is Almaviva one of the evil 1%? Beaumarchais (the playwright who created the Barber) wanted Figaro to be the smartest person in the room.  Maybe it’s the bump on my head that i got the other night, but that’s not what i saw, however.  Shrader’s Almaviva wins the girl on merit, even though he happens to be wealthy too.  So perhaps you should ignore the money that showers down on you, and simply enjoy the glorious singing and the stylish playing of the COC Orchestra, led by Rory Macdonald.

The COC Barber of Seville continues for another dozen performances, closing May 22^nd.

It’s been a difficult week. The Toronto Symphony’s players, tonight’s conductor Jukka-Pekka Saraste, the would-be soloists Valentina Lisitsa and Stewart Goodyear, and the audience have in various ways been through an ordeal. Arriving at the concert tonight, we walked past perhaps a dozen placard wielding demonstrators chanting in support of freedom of speech & the originally scheduled soloist.

Demonstrators outside Roy Thomson Hall before the concert tonight

The other soloist has been on an emotional roller-coaster, first in his surprise invitation, and then cancelling in the face of harassment. Inside, burly security guards were in evidence. The concert was anything but routine, a day when people who don’t usually notice the TSO were talking about the events of the past week, and not in a good way.

The extra expense for an organization already in the red must be enormous:

• Ticket-holders were offered refunds or a free ticket to another concert
• New programs –with no mention of either soloist—were printed
• The orchestra was paid to rehearse a work they won’t perform in public anytime soon.

But the performance of Mahler’s Fifth that I witnessed tonight was like a ritual affirming support for the Toronto Symphony, complete with a unanimous standing ovation the instant it ended, the crowd’s roar lancing the boil on the butt of this city.

With all the tensions in the air, the chance to play music must have been a huge relief. The first two movements, which are so full of pain & darkness, were electrifying, played with great energy. Saraste was coming back to an orchestra that he led in the 1990s, which likely still includes some players from that time, even though the ensemble has been reshaped by his successors.

I couldn’t help thinking, though, that this man had a plane to catch, and maybe wishes he could get on that plane tonight.  Surely he wants to get out of town, wants this ordeal to end. For all the work, the magnificent solo playing by the TSO, especially in the brass, in preparing this, the TSO in effect gave this concert away in their offer to refund tickets, somehow behaving as though the concerto –the shorter work– was the really important work.  Yes it’s true that both soloists have a big following, but Mahler’s 5th is hardly chopped liver.   Saraste? I thought he seemed to be very tightly contained, a very remote figure even as he sometimes erupted with enormous amounts of energy (but then again, perhaps i’m spoiled by Peter Oundjian? Saraste is the anti-Oundjian, stoic and remote, rather than effusive and chatty). Sometimes Mahler was well-served, in the delicacy opening the third movement for example. But I found much of the piece seemed rushed, a lot of sound without being connected to genuine feeling. And who could blame him? In the applause I thought his body language said he was embarrassed by the ovation, waving but without even the hint of a smile in evidence. It must have been painful, this strange week. There were some musical oddities, as for instance in the last big turn for home in the rondo, when the main theme is announced. The orchestra didn’t hesitate or even slow as the cadence leads us finally into the home key and the triumphant statement of the main theme.  No, they seemed to take the transition passage on two wheels as they dashed for the finish. It’s one of my favourite pieces of music, yet I hardly recognized it. It was the oddest performance, containing as it did so many wonderful solo moments, so much accurate playing.  This was genuinely brave and deserving of the ovation.

I wish I didn’t have to sound critical. I don’t believe the decision set a “precedent” (to use the key word found in pieces in both the Toronto Star & Globe and Mail) because of course the real precedent was the decision made by Peter Gelb to cave in to pressure, in removing The Death of Klinghoffer from the Metropolitan Opera’s schedule of high definition broadcasts a few months ago.  The cat’s already out of the bag.

The orchestra soldiered on in the face of a very unpleasant sort of scrutiny this week. Goodyear decided to pack it in, whereas the orchestra, who did all the preparation, were left with the one work on the program. Saraste must have felt particularly conflicted, having prepared the Rachmaninoff with the orchestra. To hear Goodyear’s report, their rehearsal a few days ago was a revelation, which doesn’t surprise me. But an orchestra isn’t to be confused with a bunch of laborers, who perform so long as you pay them. These are sensitive people, and morale couldn’t have been high this week.

But as Scarlet O’Hara once said, tomorrow is another day.

From a press release:

“The TSO has taken a decision to remove Rachmaninoff Piano Concerto No. 2 from this week’s programme.  The concert for Wednesday, April 8  and Thursday, April 9  will focus entirely on Mahler’s Fifth Symphony.  The concert begins at 8pm and will have no intermission.”  Ticket-holders have the option of a complementary ticket or refund.

The similarities between Valentina Lisitsa and Justin Bieber were noted years ago.

• They’re self-made stars
• They get millions of hits on youtube
• Their overconfidence has led them into trouble

Perhaps Lisitsa needs to have a celebrity roast, as she seeks forgiveness and redemption in the public eye. Right now? She appears unrepentant, unaware that her tweets are in any way problematic.

No, I haven’t seen the tweets in question (except for a couple), but on CBC’s afternoon drive-home show Here and Now, the Toronto Symphony’s Jeff Melanson gave an interview in which he claimed that the Lisitsa dossier contains over 200 offensive tweets, quoting a couple on air.

I miss the good old days, when it was clear who was right and wrong. When Baryshnikov defected here in Toronto, we knew that the USSR were the villains, the artists the heroes of the story. It’s not so clear now, however. However offensive the remarks may be –and I’m not arguing with Melanson—I wanted to hear her play the piano, not speak.   While we’re talking about Bieber (let alone popular culture), nobody usually  cares when an artist sometimes transgresses. Indeed, that’s a great way to generate publicity & buzz. We’re always hearing about actors and rappers getting in trouble with the law or worse. On this occasion I congratulate Melanson for a canny choice, that will increase the attention –and ticket sales—for this concert even as he manages to take the high road. At the same time I’m frustrated, because I was looking forward to hearing Lisitsa. I love Wagner’s music too, speaking of people with views that offend some people.

Protest outside the Metropolitan Opera / Adam Kredo (click image for article “Pro-Israel Protesters Disrupt Anti-Semitic Met Opera”)

A friend of mine observed that the precedent for this cancellation may be the decision by Peter Gelb of the Metropolitan Opera to omit John Adams’ Death of Klinghoffer from the high definition broadcast schedule. Gelb couldn’t ignore pressure from groups calling the opera anti-Semitic.

Lost in all of this is the music.  It’s not about  Mahler or Rachmaninoff anymore.

Stewart Goodyear and Valentina Lisitsa are both wonderful artists, indeed I mentioned them both in a piece awhile ago, assessing the best pianistic talents in history. I regret that Goodyear’s performance is in some ways overshadowed by the sensational story. Similarly, Jukka-Pekka Saraste’s return to his old orchestra to conduct Mahler’s titanic Fifth Symphony is almost an after-thought: a work that dwarfs the piano concerto at the centre of the story.

A change has been announced for the Toronto Symphony concerts this week on April 8 & 9, a concert I was eagerly anticipating, wanting to hear Valentina Lisitsa in person (as I wrote yesterday).

But today the announcement was made that it will be Stewart Goodyear instead of Lisitsa, a performance that I’m just as eager to hear, even if these are hardly ideal circumstances for Goodyear.

There are critics lined up on each side of the question, perhaps rushing to judgment before all the facts are known. Norman Lebrecht questions the TSO’s actions.

On one side you can read something supporting Lisitsa. The language of this post is as hyperbolic as a Soviet era diatribe.

It is no secret that nowadays many alternative media activists face appalling state-sponsored censorship in many nominally free and democratic Western countries. Now it seems that such censorship has penetrated much deeper than we have come to expect. Art itself, the truest form of free expression, is being silenced.

On the other side you can read an analysis that’s much more even-handed, simply quoting the pianist and some of her remarkable comments.

On August 28, 2014 Ms. Lisitsa Tweeted despicable racist commentary with photos of African villagers juxtaposed with Ukrainian schoolteachers. Her snide remarks scoffed at African stereotypes because they wear “tribal dress” as being inferior and unworthy of “Europe”.

I recall the old adage that there’s no such thing as bad publicity. This concert was already news, but the TSO have taken the extraordinary step of paying Lisitsa her fee even as they cancel her appearance. That she’s being replaced by someone who is a favourite son in Toronto mitigates the cancellation. I’m an even bigger fan of Goodyear, even if I am disappointed that we didn’t get to hear Lisitsa.

Jukka-Pekka Saraste

While I don’t know who to believe, it’s nothing new to have artists –especially the great ones–who are fools, monsters, jerks. Wagner was a notorious anti-Semite. I wrote about Lisitsa in context with Justin Bieber, never suspecting that maybe she too will need a celebrity roast to persuade us to feel sorry for her, and maybe to forgive her.

And overshadowed in the circus, does anyone remember that Jukka-Pekka Saraste is coming back to Toronto? I’m looking forward to hearing him conduct the Mahler 5 with the TSO.

I’ve been thinking about the way that concert performances idealize a work.  Even the most elaborate productions of opera require short-cuts, some sort of suspension of disbelief when fully staged.     The question about concert performances of opera is really a question of virtuality, as we saw in a recent piece in the NY Times by David Belcher.   I grew up listening to opera on vinyl, and later on CDs, only rarely encountering opera on video.  But even a DVD of a live performance is still a kind of virtual performance, because it’s not truly live.   We always watch from the perfect camera angle without the possibility of the head of that tall guy sitting in front of us momentarily blocking our view. And isn’t it funny that singers always manage to hit the high notes: possibly because they only videotape near-perfect performances. Working from an audio recording or a concert performance, our minds complete the visual picture building upon that ideal auditory world.

I have never seen Valentina Lisitsa perform.  Oh sure, I’ve seen her play the piano on youtube.  But is that the same as “seeing” her perform?

Maybe.

I first encountered her playing this Rachmaninoff piece.   The fluidity of her technique is evident in the way her arms move.  Come to think of it I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone –male or female—play a complex piece with bare forearms (Glenn Gould?  Vladimir Horowitz? Perhaps Martha Argerich).  They’re hypnotic, and yes, very beautiful to watch.

You may have heard Valentina Lisitsa compared to Justin Bieber.

• Not because she’s been arrested
• Not because she’s been roasted by celebrities
• Not because he (meaning the Stratford native) plays Rachmaninoff or Liszt

But there are some intriguing points of contact.

• They’re both musicians who caught the public imagination via the self-publishing realm of youtube
• They’re both attractive, indeed beauty is surely a factor in their success (as in the meditation upon her forearms)

What’s remarkable –come to think of it—is not her success, but rather the success of others.  Who authorizes a virtuoso, who decides what pianist or singer is worthy of excitement?  I suppose it happens when a Pavarotti’s high C is heard over and over, creating a buzz.  Youtube –for Bieber, for Lisitsa, and for the next phenom to come—shortens that process, allowing the talent to emerge much faster.

Here’s something of Lisitsa I heard just a couple of weeks ago, playing a ferociously difficult piece, a Busoni transcription of Bach.

Valentina Lisitsa will be in town to play Rachmaninoff’s 2^nd Piano Concerto with the Toronto Symphony this week, April 8^th  & 9^th at Roy Thomson Hall in a program also including Mahler’s 5^th Symphony.  Live and in person..!