When a media circus gathers around a performance, or a film, or an artwork, the eventual performance often fails to equal the furor that preceded it. “That’s it?” someone ends up asking. But the opposite happened at The Death of Klinghoffer: the protest was zealous but the work emerged wiser and braver than I thought it would be. This was the most intense performance I’ve ever seen at the Met, almost a tinderbox. But the opera itself, despite its unevenness and a production which, in some respects, troubled me, is far more than invective.
Tuesday, October 21, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Sunday, October 05, 2014
|Contrary to appearances, not a Herheim production|
Check it out here. The streaming series will continue with The Makropulos Case on November 1.
Photo copyright Bayerische Staatsoper
Posted by Micaela at 9:33 AM
Friday, October 03, 2014
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Friday, September 12, 2014
|beware, lest you be compared to a Red Sox fan|
This is, in my opinion, a good choice. The line required an investment of time which many people—e.g. those with jobs—are not able to make. Generally, you had to devote a good portion of the afternoon to sitting in line. The line is, or rather was, primarily populated by local retirees, tourists, and some students. (There are, however, already independent discount programs both for seniors and for students.) As a grad student, I was able to wait in line occasionally. Since each person in line was able to buy two tickets, I always gave the other ticket to a friend with a more regular job.
The new policy allows a much broader group of people to access these tickets. But for major opera fans, this is not necessarily a more equitable solution: the line allows the most dedicated fans to always get tickets while more casual fans might only occasionally commit to waiting or only be able to nab tickets to unpopular performances (when the line forms later in the day), while a lottery eliminates commitment and leaves things to pure luck. I'm not sure if it's fair to judge one's dedication to opera by the ability to take time off from work, particularly in light of the state of American labor laws, but that's the argument. The new policy is also less suitable for tourists, who may not have the chance to win a lottery when they're only in town for a few days. (Personally, if I were only visiting New York, I wouldn't want to spend a whole afternoon in a parking garage, but that's me.) Also, if you lack internet, the public library located next to the Met does not require a library card to use a computer.
Don't get me wrong, I'm one of the diehard fans. I've waited in some pretty epic lines myself. Once I was interviewed by Austrian TV while waiting in line at the Wiener Staatsoper. (They asked me whether I preferred Elina Garanca or Anna Netrebko, who were both singing that evening. Dumme Frage, I replied! Just kidding, I said Netrebko.) Once Dominique Meyer, the Wiener Staatsoper's general director, handed me a croissant and winked at me, which was perhaps a line experience I could have done without. (The wink, not the croissant. Croissant was vital.)
But while the most dedicated operagoers may not find this policy change to be entirely an improvement, I don't think that they're the sole group for whom rush tickets are intended, and arguably not even the primary one. Opera is often seen by the uninitiated as inaccessibly expensive and difficult, and rush tickets make things affordable and (in the new incarnation) easy. The truly committed are going to find a way to go to the opera no matter what. This policy change vastly improves the situation for a far larger group of vaguely interested people who are not able to or inclined to spend their afternoon sitting on a stone floor in a dimly lit tunnel. The Met needs to expand its local audience base, and this is a step towards doing that. Finally, the rush ticket policy is only a relatively recent innovation at the Met--it began early in the Gelb era, I believe in 2006 or 2007--so they aren't making a major historical change here.
If you really want to queue, there's still a line for standing room tickets. Every single morning.
Posted by Micaela at 10:27 AM
Saturday, August 09, 2014
|Artist's rendering of what has happened at the Met over the summer|
(Side note: I write this from bucolic Annandale-on-Hudson, where I am dramaturging for the Bard Music Festival. I’m working on a Schubert jukebox operetta (as well as a genuine Schubert Singspiel) which a) exists and b) is going to be performed tomorrow at 5:30. It is a charming program and the cast is lovely, please stop by.)
Anyway, on to the Met! You can peruse the full offerings with dates and such here. The HD broadcast schedule can be found here; productions with these broadcasts are marked HD.
Thursday, May 22, 2014
Sunday, April 27, 2014
|"Maybe choosing this particular lady wasn't one of my best ideas"|
Tuesday, April 15, 2014
This Met revival is, alas, not a particularly good Arabella. It has the odd misfortune to get the single most difficult role unusually right--that would be Michael Volle’s excellent Mandryka--and have issues in the comparatively easy lyric soprano department. Word was that this revival was originally scheduled for the phenomenal Anja Harteros, who withdrew a while ago. Her replacement in the title role, Swedish soprano Malin Byström, was new to me. She certainly has a lovely, warm tone, and the voice is very big in the middle. But her registers are unbalanced, and the warmth stopped around the F sharp at the top of the staff. Alas, Arabella is a role that really depends on easy, beautiful high notes at the big moments, and there Byström suddenly sounded insecure and thin. She is a decent but generic actress, lacking a certain glamor and vulnerability to bring this part off (my friend thought she was matronly--she certainly didn’t seem like the flirt Zdenka calls her).
She didn't have much help from the pit or rest of the cast. Philippe Auguin’s busy conducting had little sense of the work’s flow, nor did those beatific bits glow as they should. Juliane Banse was a later replacement as Zdenka, and was unhappily cast. I’ve enjoyed her singing in other roles, but honestly her Zdenka days are past her by a decade or so. Her grainy, dark, smallish voice sounded labored, particularly in the higher ranges, which have to be even sweeter and easier than Arabella’s. This is not a difficult role to cast and I wonder why the Met could not locate someone more suitable, even on short notice.
Roberto Saccà similarly sounded underpowered and worn as Matteo. He was nearly sung off the stage by Brian Jagde as third-in-line suitor Elemer. Jagde is a powerful Heldentenor-in-training. I’m not sure if he could sing Matteo--it’s rather high--but I certainly would like to hear him in something where he has more to do. The other supporting roles such as Adelaide, the Fortune Teller, and Waldner were uniformly poorly sung. One suspects that all the good Arabella supporting players are in Salzburg at present. I feel sorry for anyone who is obliged to sing chirpy Fiakermilli, but I still should report that Audrey Luna sounded very nasal.
|"Mandryka, you look dehydrated."|
The Otto Schenk production can perhaps be blamed for the dramatic blandness. Productions of this opera tend to tilt towards Strauss’s opulence rather than Hofmannsthal’s grit, and this one is no exception. If the Waldners are so broke, I would suggest to them that they still have a lot of knickknacks they could put in hock. The staging of Act 3 in particular is cluttered and over-busy. (I also think this act also benefits from some cuts--I think this might have been the least-cut Arabella Act 3 I’ve seen.) When a lighting gel fluttered down from the flies during Arabella and Mandryka’s love duet, it would have been a Verfremdungeffekt if we were in certain German opera houses, but here it really wasn’t.
I don't think I've yet seen a fully convincing production of this opera, one which balances the alternating enchantment and motor-like energy of the music with the hardheaded, operetta-like libretto--is it too foolishly optimistic to suggest that the Met try to come up with one should they produce it again? Or to some other opera house: has the often-underrated Claus Guth directed this one yet? He has a real eye for this period, and for the thin line between fantasy and reality. I think he might be your guy.
I also have thoughts about Platée from the other week. More precisely, I want to write about Simone Kermes, because she is something else. Maybe soon!
Strauss, Arabella. Metropolitan Opera, 4/11/14.
Photos copyright Marty Sohl/Met.