A friend has sent me a Christmas present: Eileen Farrell does Puccini and more. This is something I have never heard before. I have a very nice recital recording I've always loved where she sings Schubert, Debussey and Poulenc, setting the standard for my ears ever since.
When I was very pregnant, I sat in the pit to hear her sing with the Sacramento Symphony. She sang Abscheulischer, Leise leise, and the Liebestod. She just stood there like a stick, but it was glorious.
Puccini from her I had not heard before. It must be a young recording. I mean she must have been relatively young. She had one of the great voices of all time, with a kind of mystical lightness. It did exactly whatever she wanted it to. How can a dramatic soprano sound light? You tell me. Her Puccini is eye opening.
Thank you.
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Friday, December 15, 2006
Ben Heppner
From Playbill:
If you think it takes hard work to be an opera singer, Ben Heppner says think again. The star tenor insists that the key to his success is his "laziness." Tongue planted firmly in cheek, the man considered one of today's greatest Wagnerians tells the Paris newspaper Le Figaro that "it requires too much work to sing with power." He continues: "I am convinced that it is easier to sing well than to sing badly."
Heppner — who was in the French capital early this month to perform chunks from Lohengrin, Tristan and Parsifal at the Salle Pleyel — goes on to explain that he tries to sing in his voice's most natural lyrical range rather than attempt to force out a big, stereotypical Heldentenor sound. It seems to be working: Heppner has shown no signs lately of the vocal difficulties that forced him to stop singing completely for six months back in 2002. Incidentally, Heppner is one of the few opera singers who talks openly about his vocal difficulties (Karita Mattila is another). The subject is still taboo among many opera singers.
Right after the New Year, Heppner returns to Canada to perform a series of recitals around British Columbia. Then he's off to Philadelphia at the end of January to sing with Deborah Voigt at the 150th anniversary gala for Philadelphia's Academy of Music, the oldest opera house in the United States.
[What did I say? Sing like James Morris. I assure you, he never breaks into a sweat.]
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Editing
I just bought a copy of Eyewitness Companions--Opera. This is quite a nice book with a strong emphasis on contemporary singers, repertoire and productions, with a very glamorous picture of the girl of the moment on page 46.
However, turn to page 106 where we see a shot illustrating Mitridate, Re di Ponto. It says the people in the photograph are Sally Matthews as Sifare and Aleksandra Kurzak as Aspasia, when we know perfectly well that they are Ann Murray and Yvonne Kenny.
And on page 193 the woman with Luciano is certainly not Mirela Freni.
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Christmas gifts
Amazon has this now.
I seem to have enjoyed Renée Fleming’s Homage quite a lot.
For the serious minded I can definitely recommend Harnoncourt’s Bach Matthew Passion.
I was very excited by the film of Porgy and Bess with Willard White.
Oh. And of course, the DVD of the Salzburg La Traviata. Give this to everyone.
For the Wagner fan I recommend the Tristan und Isolde with Waltraud Meier. If they are truly a fan, they will already own the DVD of Tristan with Birgit Nilsson.
This older Idomeneo with Placido Domingo is quite beautiful.
Happy turkey day!
Monday, December 11, 2006
Saturday, December 09, 2006
Interview
At the risk of beginning to look like a fan-zine, I would like to pass on a summary of an interview with Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazon broadcast on the Oesterreichische Rundfunk in November. The interview took place before the Friends of the Wiener Staatsoper. Anna spoke in English, Rolando in German.
The interview begins and ends with excerpts from the Salzburg La Traviata. There are other excerpts throughout the interview, including an excellent aria by Rolando from Don Carlo. He is showing me that I have underestimated him. Many of the excerpts are from not yet released recordings.
The announcer explains that before this she was just Anna Netrebko--now after La Traviata she has become The Netrebko. He tells her of how proud they are to have her as a citizen. She explains that she is learning German and loves Austria.
Rolando explains that his real name is Rot--Rolando Rot--and that he speaks such good German because his ancestors were German, and he attended a German school for over 10 years in Mexico. His German Ur-gross mutter is still alive.
[They are both so totally charming that my summary is rather a waste. I can translate printed text, but to translate from spoken words an interview that lasts over an hour is too hard for me.]
Anna explained that in Russia operetta is the favorite form of musical. She was always compelled to the stage from a very young age and preferred to play a princess. Rolando denied that he also wished to be a princess. His half of the interview is very silly. He also loved the theater from a young age, and his favorite was Don Quixote, that he learned all the songs from Man of La Mancha. He once played as part of a clown duo that included an intelligent clown and a stupid clown. Naturally, he played the stupid clown. He explains that Placido Domingo was his hero, that he listened to all of Placido’s crossover albums. He then proceeded to do an imitation of a duet between John Denver and Placido Domingo, switching voices back and forth. So now we know why he seems to sound like Placido.
At 15-17 she started to see operas at the Marinsky Theater, including Otello. She thought, “That is something for me. I want to be able to perform like that.” She is bored with her cleaning lady story, but points out this was in 1991, a terrible time for people in Russia. The singers she listened to were Callas, Sutherland and Freni.
Rolando tells that Anna helped him with his Russian in Eugene Onegin. He admits he doesn’t know what he’s singing, but she says he’s very talented. He in turn has “helped” her with Spanish. She calls him a bastard and explains that she would say things he told her to say, and people’s eyes would grow large.
Anna tells of studying 15 lessons with Renata Scotto who taught her bel canto technique. She says that learning is an endless process. She was taught always to sing with a full voice.
Rolando feels that after achieving maturity, it has been important to make his way alone. “I must take responsibility in my own hands. Then comes the individuality.” From 12-18 Placido was his idol, but “I don’t try to be a second Domingo.”
They ask her about Lulu [this refers to the role of Lulu from Berg's opera Lulu]. She says she hopes one day she will do it. She also aspires to sing Puccini’s Manon Lescaut.
For Rolando the dream role is the one he sings now. At 14 he dreamed of Tales of Hoffmann. Then his dream came true and he sang Hoffmann at Covent Garden.
Anna speaks about her Russian soul. "We like to swim in the sad mood. Anyone likes this." Rolando makes her as crazy as him. She thanks her musical godfather, Valery Gergiev. To show her Russian soul they play a track from the Russian Album.
They are unbelievably charming. I am imagining my eyes growing large. And laughing.
The interview begins and ends with excerpts from the Salzburg La Traviata. There are other excerpts throughout the interview, including an excellent aria by Rolando from Don Carlo. He is showing me that I have underestimated him. Many of the excerpts are from not yet released recordings.
The announcer explains that before this she was just Anna Netrebko--now after La Traviata she has become The Netrebko. He tells her of how proud they are to have her as a citizen. She explains that she is learning German and loves Austria.
Rolando explains that his real name is Rot--Rolando Rot--and that he speaks such good German because his ancestors were German, and he attended a German school for over 10 years in Mexico. His German Ur-gross mutter is still alive.
[They are both so totally charming that my summary is rather a waste. I can translate printed text, but to translate from spoken words an interview that lasts over an hour is too hard for me.]
Anna explained that in Russia operetta is the favorite form of musical. She was always compelled to the stage from a very young age and preferred to play a princess. Rolando denied that he also wished to be a princess. His half of the interview is very silly. He also loved the theater from a young age, and his favorite was Don Quixote, that he learned all the songs from Man of La Mancha. He once played as part of a clown duo that included an intelligent clown and a stupid clown. Naturally, he played the stupid clown. He explains that Placido Domingo was his hero, that he listened to all of Placido’s crossover albums. He then proceeded to do an imitation of a duet between John Denver and Placido Domingo, switching voices back and forth. So now we know why he seems to sound like Placido.
At 15-17 she started to see operas at the Marinsky Theater, including Otello. She thought, “That is something for me. I want to be able to perform like that.” She is bored with her cleaning lady story, but points out this was in 1991, a terrible time for people in Russia. The singers she listened to were Callas, Sutherland and Freni.
Rolando tells that Anna helped him with his Russian in Eugene Onegin. He admits he doesn’t know what he’s singing, but she says he’s very talented. He in turn has “helped” her with Spanish. She calls him a bastard and explains that she would say things he told her to say, and people’s eyes would grow large.
Anna tells of studying 15 lessons with Renata Scotto who taught her bel canto technique. She says that learning is an endless process. She was taught always to sing with a full voice.
Rolando feels that after achieving maturity, it has been important to make his way alone. “I must take responsibility in my own hands. Then comes the individuality.” From 12-18 Placido was his idol, but “I don’t try to be a second Domingo.”
They ask her about Lulu [this refers to the role of Lulu from Berg's opera Lulu]. She says she hopes one day she will do it. She also aspires to sing Puccini’s Manon Lescaut.
For Rolando the dream role is the one he sings now. At 14 he dreamed of Tales of Hoffmann. Then his dream came true and he sang Hoffmann at Covent Garden.
Anna speaks about her Russian soul. "We like to swim in the sad mood. Anyone likes this." Rolando makes her as crazy as him. She thanks her musical godfather, Valery Gergiev. To show her Russian soul they play a track from the Russian Album.
They are unbelievably charming. I am imagining my eyes growing large. And laughing.
Friday, December 08, 2006
Blogging
I will never get the hang of opera blogging. I can't rant on endlessly comparing Kiri to Renée or Anna and Maria.
I spent a lot of time in the 80's making music on computers in conjunction with synthesizers and know exactly how easy it is to achieve the perfect trill. I would make the trill in Cakewalk and then copy it around wherever I wanted that effect, transposing it up and down. All my trills were perfect. So what? Perfection is boring.
Any singer you can name is sometimes bad, sometimes boring. Well, maybe Maria was never boring. You might wince at her wobble, but you would not be bored. Kiri was capable of the sublime and the pedestrian. Cecilia does not discipline her legato. Anna is capable of just blasting meaninglessly away and doesn't try for subtlety in her more intense singing. Renée is a crossover and can't help it. All have feet of clay or are not worth listening to. You pick.
I spent a lot of time in the 80's making music on computers in conjunction with synthesizers and know exactly how easy it is to achieve the perfect trill. I would make the trill in Cakewalk and then copy it around wherever I wanted that effect, transposing it up and down. All my trills were perfect. So what? Perfection is boring.
Any singer you can name is sometimes bad, sometimes boring. Well, maybe Maria was never boring. You might wince at her wobble, but you would not be bored. Kiri was capable of the sublime and the pedestrian. Cecilia does not discipline her legato. Anna is capable of just blasting meaninglessly away and doesn't try for subtlety in her more intense singing. Renée is a crossover and can't help it. All have feet of clay or are not worth listening to. You pick.
Princess Tam Tam
My friendly neighborhood library has a copy of the great Josephine Baker movie Princess Tam Tam. The plot is Pygmalion. A young shepherdess from Tunisia becomes the object of fascination by a famous French novelist who has traveled there to write in seclusion. To make his wife jealous the Frenchman plucks her eyebrows, manicures her hands, dresses her in elegant clothing, teaches her piano and ballroom dancing, and brings her to Paris where she triumphs. It is a musical comedy in the Busby Berkeley style.
What is the fascination of Josephine Baker? To feel it as the French did you must first feel the magnet of society, the pull of elegance and propriety; you must feel it dominate your whole life and know you will never escape. Josephine was this. When she dressed in couture, she was the most elegant and gorgeous woman in the room. Then she could turn this elegance on its head. In her dancing shoes, or more often bare feet, she was exciting and primitive, simultaneously elegant and crude, an object of deep fascination, especially for those who knew they could never do this themselves.
For Americans elegance is an aspiration, not a requirement; the contrast of the elegant and natural plays differently for us. We come close only in Calamity Jane, I suppose, but the crudeness there is merely laughed at, not envied and fantasized about as it is with Josephine. When she speaks French, they would hear an exotic foreigner of unknown origin. We hear a black woman from St. Louis.
She was perhaps the most fascinating woman of her era and one of the main inspirations for art deco. She was painted by many famous painters. In fact, I recently saw a painting of her hanging in the Phillips Collection in Washington, though it was not identified that way. Women tried to increase their tans, to look black. It is a world we cannot imagine.
What is the fascination of Josephine Baker? To feel it as the French did you must first feel the magnet of society, the pull of elegance and propriety; you must feel it dominate your whole life and know you will never escape. Josephine was this. When she dressed in couture, she was the most elegant and gorgeous woman in the room. Then she could turn this elegance on its head. In her dancing shoes, or more often bare feet, she was exciting and primitive, simultaneously elegant and crude, an object of deep fascination, especially for those who knew they could never do this themselves.
For Americans elegance is an aspiration, not a requirement; the contrast of the elegant and natural plays differently for us. We come close only in Calamity Jane, I suppose, but the crudeness there is merely laughed at, not envied and fantasized about as it is with Josephine. When she speaks French, they would hear an exotic foreigner of unknown origin. We hear a black woman from St. Louis.
She was perhaps the most fascinating woman of her era and one of the main inspirations for art deco. She was painted by many famous painters. In fact, I recently saw a painting of her hanging in the Phillips Collection in Washington, though it was not identified that way. Women tried to increase their tans, to look black. It is a world we cannot imagine.
Monday, December 04, 2006
Blogging
I am so pleased with myself. I recognized the beginning of "Caro nome" from just two arpeggios by Victor Borge. He was a favorite of my mama, probably the only classical musician she paid any attention to. He still lives on at pledge time on pbs, as near as we get to classical music these days. A more ghastly rendition of "Caro nome" by his comic soprano could not be imagined.
I was driving along the highway to Ohio when the words "Luther Vandross" came into my head. It turned out to be who was singing on the radio, a name I have only recently learned. Something odd is going on with my brain. I seem to know things I didn't know I knew. While not remembering my phone number. It's all very odd.
I was driving along the highway to Ohio when the words "Luther Vandross" came into my head. It turned out to be who was singing on the radio, a name I have only recently learned. Something odd is going on with my brain. I seem to know things I didn't know I knew. While not remembering my phone number. It's all very odd.
Friday, December 01, 2006
Vampire
Attempts to answer the question "what if Anna Netrebko were a vampire?" Forgive me, Gert, it's cropped from one of your pictures.
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