Opera Times Four

We heard the Metropolitan Opera double bill of Tchaikovsky's "Iolanthe" and Bartok's "Bluebeard".   (We were originally planning on seeing this in January, but the performance was cancelled on account of the Great Non-Blizzard of January 2015.)   Not knowing anything about "Iolanthe", we were quite impressed.   It's a late work, premiered on a double bill with something called "The Nutcracker".   Apparently the audience liked the opera better; little did they know.   The story is about a blind princess (in medieval times) whose father decides that he will isolate her from the world so that she will never know that she is blind; thus all the servants, etc. are forbidden to mention anything that has to do with sight.   This makes for an interesting libretto; as well as a different take on patriarchal relations.   The music is wonderfully varied, like a tone poem, and occasionally, to my ears, foreshadows Debussy's "Pelleas".   The singers were superb, especially Netrebko, who has an amazing voice; and in the pit was the ever-present Putin buddy, Gergiev.
The second half of the double bill, Bartok's "Bluebeard's Castle", was gripping and intense.  The orchestra was truly phenomenal; this 1911 work, written before Bartok was really Bartok, is full of extraordinary sounds.

The production, unfortunately, was in fact quite bad; the director's work is a good example of the kind of outrageous stuff they routinely do in Europe.   He had the idea of adding really tacky sound effects to the Bartok; creaking noises, and things like that.   Where were the grownups when he decided to do this?   On what planet does Bartok need to have sound effects added?  In addition, he demonstrated his Eurotrash credentials by having Judith (the main female role) suddenly appear in a bathtub, full of water, taking a real bath on stage (and seemingly nude).   Then she had to get out of the tub, put on her bathrobe, and sing for fifteen minutes while barefoot in a wet bathrobe.   Apparently all this (and the Tchaikovsky, too) was set in some sort of "film noir" world.   And why does the heroic count who rescues Iolanthe first appear in the forest with a pair of skis on his shoulder?  And the director often puts the singers in odd and peculiar places where they can't be seen.

But most of this doesn't matter too much when you have singers and an orchestra of such extraordinary caliber.

Judith in her bath:

So what do the grey antlers mean? From Iolanthe:

From Bluebeard:

Earlier in January we were invited by my stepmother to see the Met production of Lehar's "A Merry Widow', which I had never heard before.   It's an operetta, which means there is quite a bit of dialogue.   Written in 1905 in Vienna, this is, for all intents and purposes, a musical, complete with hit songs (the "Merry Widow Waltz")  It's interesting to realize that this formula was present so long ago.    I enjoyed myself (Vera much less so).    And I also realized that the Marx Brother's film, "Duck Soup" is in part parody of the "Merry Window".  (Rich widow needed to save the small country from ruin.)  So seeing Renee Fleming on stage, I was thinking Margaret Dumont.

The Marx Brothers had cooler sets...

And lastly, we heard Gluck's "Iphigenie in Aulide" at Juilliard in a semi-staged concert version.   It was an extraordinary experience.   The performance was a collaboration between the Met and Juilliard, featuring young up and coming singers and instrumentalists from Juilliard's early music program, all brilliantly conducted by Jane Glover.  I have seldom heard such a wonderfully nuanced performance from an orchestra. Because the opera was done in the relatively intimate space of Juilliard's theater, you could hear every detail.   The singers, too were excellent; and I would guess that some of them will become famous singers some day.

The opera itself, based on Euripides and Racine's versions of the tale of the god's demand that Agamemnon sacrifice his daughter Iphigenia, is a serious drama with a happy ending. Gluck, famous for his reform of the excesses of 18th century, combines the music and the drama in a perfect way.   I heard a lot of what Mozart did subsequently in his operas, especially in the ensembles.   The only problem with Gluck is that in his zeal to combat the excesses of opera at the times, he sometimes extinguishes those very excesses that people love about opera.   He could certainly write a great tune, but if the drama didn't call for it, it wouldn't happen.   Which is why you rarely see his operas at your neighborhood opera house.   

So involving was the music and the drama that I scarcely noticed that there were no sets or costumes; sometimes, I think opera would be better off without them.

Anyone reading this would be well advised to check out any of the opera productions at Juilliard.