James Levine Returns to the Met

Levine in Met

 

James Levine is a singer’s conductor.  Since 1971 he has riled the Metropolitan Opera Orchestra into frenzies of Wagnerian fortitude, balanced the beautiful webbed orchestration in Strauss, enchanted with the soaring cantilena of Puccinian melody, and exuded the splendour of Verdi’s unparalleled palate and all to showcase the instrument he knows how to support and promote more about than practically any conductor, the voice.  I have always been fascinated by this man, his intelligence, his understanding of opera, and most of all his ability to make the written page come to life in colours and flashes of light that are unfortunately missing in the bag of tricks that belong to most conductors today.

James Levine Boston Met

When I heard that Maestro Levine was going to return to the podium this season, I waited in great anticipation to hear which operas he would conduct.  Sorely disappointed was I that he would only conduct three, and I’m sure I wasn’t the only one.  For those three works, Cosi Fan Tutte (which premiered last evening), Falstaff, and Wozzeck, opera fans and aficionados who truly understand the art will flock to the Met to listen to the grandeur of Levine’s conducting.  It’s interesting how someone can be missing for a couple of years and when they return, we REALLY know what we’ve been missing.  How does that old adage go:  you don’t know what you have until you’ve lost it?

Levine made his Met debut in 1971 following a June Festival performance of Tosca. Following further appearances with the company, he was named principal conductor of the Metropolitan Opera in February 1972 and became the Met’s music director in 1976.  He rose to higher acclaim In 1983 when he served as conductor and musical director for Franco Zeffirelli’s screen adaptation of La Traviata, which featured the Met orchestra and chorus members. He became the company’s first artistic director in 1986, but relinquished the title in 2004.  There is no question that during Levine’s tenure, the Met orchestra expanded its activities into the realms of recording, and performing in separate concert series for the orchestra and chamber ensembles at Carnegie Hall.  Additionally, he has led the Metropolitan Opera on many domestic and international tours. For the 25th anniversary of his Met debut, Levine conducted the world premiere of John Harbison’s The Great Gatsby, commissioned especially to mark the occasion. On his appointment as General Manager of the Met, Peter Gelb emphasized that James Levine was welcome to remain as long as he wanted to direct music there.  How gracious of him.

Return to MetLevine’s curtain call from last night’s Cosi Fan Tutte

Certainly, some things have changed at the Met, but last night brought the Levine we remembered (if not better) and the orchestra was at its finest.  Personally, I wish it had been Puccini that he chose to conduct or a Verdi or Strauss because I’ve never been a huge fan of Cosi Fan Tutte, but hey…whatever we can get.  I hope that Maestro Levine continues to live in good health because we definitely need him and those singers that have been either excluded or given one short run at the Met who are living examples of the machine that opera once was.  The other night, during opening night, Margaret Juntwait interviewed Rosalinde Elias and suddenly just through the splendour of that speaking voice, I was transported to a time I didn’t even live in, to a time not even that long ago when singing, conducting, and certainly directing, was of a different ilk.  Call me a lover of the golden age….I just am.  No apologies.  Levine still retains aspects of those singers who influenced him, and his presence can only continue to influence the ones of today.  Bravo Maestro Levine.  Continued health and much much more music to come.

full-levine

New York Times Review of Maestro Levine’s Return to the Met

Opera and Politics forever Continue: Reviews from last night’s Met Season Opener

 

opera-metropolitan-opera-anna-netrebkoPhoto by Ken Howard (Metropolitan Opera)

Review: NY Times: Anthony Tommasini

News: Michael Cooper (NY TIMES)

Bloomberg on Gelb’s decision not to protest Anti-Gay Law in Russia

Anne Midgette (Washington Post)

Thanks to everyone who came to Operachat!  Hope to see you again soon on another broadcast night!

TLV

Dove sei stato “Attila?”

March 6, 2010 / 1:00 pm ET on Met Opera Radio Broadcast

Photo by Ken Howard

The Cast

Conductor: Riccardo Muti
Odabella: Violeta Urmana
Foresto: Ramón Vargas
Ezio: Carlos Alvarez
Attila: Ildar Abdrazakov

Dramma lirico in a prologue and three acts by GIUSEPPE VERDI to a libretto by TEMISTOCLE SOLERA(with additional material by FRANCESCO MARIA PIAVE) after Zacharias Werner’s play Attila, König der Hunnen; Venice, Teatro La Fenice, 17 March 1846.

Personaggi


Attila King of the Huns bass
Ezio a Roman general baritone
Odabella the Lord of Aquileia’s daughter soprano
Foresto a knight of Aquileia tenor
Uldino a young Breton, Attila’s slave tenor
Leone an old Roman bass
Leaders, kings and soldiers, Huns, Gepids, Ostrogoths, Heruls, Thuringians, Quadi, Druids, priestesses, men and women of Aquileia, Aquileian maidens in warlike dress, Roman officers and soldiers, Roman virgins and children, hermits, slaves
Setting Aquileia, the Adriatic lagoons and near Rome, in the middle of the 5th century

History:

Verdi had read Werner’s ultra-Romantic play as early as 1844, and initially discussed the subject with Piave. However, for his second opera at La Fenice, the composer eventually fixed on Solera, the librettist with whom – at least until then – he seems to have preferred working. Solera set about preparing the text according to his usual format, with plenty of opportunity for grand choral tableaux such as are found in Nabucco and I Lombardi; but the progress of the opera was beset with difficulties. First Verdi fell seriously ill, and then Solera went off to live permanently in Madrid, leaving the last act as only a sketch and necessitating the calling in of the faithful Piave after all. Verdi instructed Piave to ignore Solera’s plans for a large-scale choral finale and to concentrate on the individuals, a change of direction that Solera strongly disapproved of. The première, whose cast included Ignazio Marini (Attila), Natale Costantini (Ezio), Sophie Loewe (Odabella) and Carlo Guasco (Foresto), was coolly received, but Attila went on to become one of Verdi’s most popular operas of the 1850s. After that it lost ground; however, it has recently been more than occasionally revived. In 1846 Verdi twice rewrote the romanza for Foresto in Act 3: the first time for Nicola Ivanoff, the second for Napoleone Moriani.

The prelude follows a pattern that later became common in Verdi’s work: a restrained opening leads to a grand climax, then to the beginnings of melodic continuity that are quickly fragmented. It is the drama in nuce.


Synopsis by Roger Parker

Prologue.i  The piazza of Aquileia  ‘Huns, Heruls and Ostrogoths’ celebrate bloody victories and greet their leader Attila who, in an impressive recitative, bids them sing a victory hymn. A group of female warriors is brought on, and their leader Odabella proclaims the valour and patriotic zeal of Italian women. Odabella’s double aria is a forceful display of soprano power, its first movement, ‘Allor che i forti corrono’ showing an unusually extended form which allows Attila to insert admiring comments. Such is the force of this movement that the cabaletta, ‘Da te questo’, merely continues the musical tone, though with more elaborate ornamentation.

As Odabella leaves, the Roman general Ezio appears for a formal duet with Attila. In the Andante ‘Tardo per gli anni, e tremulo’, Ezio offers Attila the entire Roman empire if Italy can be left unmolested. Attila angrily rejects the proposal, and the warriors end with a cabaletta of mutual defiance, ‘Vanitosi! che abbietti e dormenti’.

Prologue.ii  The Rio-Alto in the Adriatic lagoons  The scene opens with a sustained passage of local colour (strongly suggesting that Verdi now had his eye on the fashions of the French stage). First comes a violent orchestral storm, then the gradual rising of dawn is portrayed with a passage of ever increasing orchestral colours and sounds. Foresto leads on a group of survivors from Attila’s attack on Aquileia. In an Andantino which again shows unusual formal extension, ‘Ella in poter del barbaro’, his thoughts turn to his beloved Odabella, captured by Attila. In the subsequent cabaletta, ‘Cara patria, già madre’, the soloist is joined by the chorus for a rousing conclusion to the scene.

Act 1.i  A wood near Attila’s camp  A melancholy string solo introduces Odabella, who has remained in Attila’s camp in order to find an opportunity to murder him. In a delicately scored Andantino, ‘Oh! nel fuggente nuvolo’, Odabella sees in the clouds the images of her dead father and Foresto. Foresto himself appears: he has seen her with Attila and accuses her of betrayal. Their duet takes on the usual multi-movement pattern: Foresto’s accusations remain through the minor-major Andante, ‘Sì, quello io son, ravvisami’, but Odabella convinces him of her desire to kill Attila, and they lovingly join in a unison cabaletta, ‘Oh t’innebria nell’amplesso’.

1.ii  Attila’s tent, later his camp  Attila tells his slave Uldino of a terrible dream in which an old man denied him access to Rome in the name of God (‘Mentre gonfiarsi l’anima’). But he dismisses the vision with a warlike cabaletta, ‘Oltre quel limite’.

A bellicose vocal blast from Attila’s followers is interrupted by a procession of women and children led by the old man of Attila’s dream. His injunction precipitates the Largo of the concertato finale, ‘No! non è sogno’, which is led off by a terrified Attila, whose stuttering declamation is answered by a passage of sustained lyricism from Foresto and Odabella. The concertato takes on such impressive proportions that Verdi saw fit to end the act there, without the traditional stretta.

Act 2.i  Ezio’s camp  The scene is no more than a conventional double aria for Ezio. In the Andante, ‘Dagl’immortali vertici’, he muses on Rome’s fallen state. Foresto appears and suggests a plan to destroy Attila by surprising him at his camp. In a brash cabaletta, ‘È gettata la mia sorte’, Ezio eagerly looks forward to his moment of glory.

2.ii  Attila’s camp  Yet another warlike chorus begins the scene. Attila greets Ezio, the Druids mutter darkly of fatal portents, the priestesses dance and sing. A sudden gust of wind blows out all the candles, an event that precipitates yet another concertato finale, ‘Lo spirto de’ monti’, a complex movement during which Foresto manages to tell Odabella that Attila’s cup is poisoned. The formal slow movement concluded, Attila raises the cup to his lips, but is warned of the poison by Odabella (who wishes a more personal vengeance); Foresto admits to the crime, and Odabella claims the right to punish him herself. Attila approves, announces that he will marry Odabella the next day, and launches the concluding stretta, ‘Oh miei prodi! un solo giorno’; its dynamism and rhythmic bite prefigure similar moments in Il trovatore.

Act 3  A wood  Foresto is awaiting news of Odabella’s marriage to Attila, and in a minor–major romanza, ‘Che non avrebbe il misero’, bemoans her apparent treachery. Ezio arrives, urging Foresto to speedy battle. A distant chorus heralds the wedding procession, but suddenly Odabella herself appears, unable to go through with the ceremony. Soon all is explained between her and Foresto, and they join Ezio in a lyrical Adagio.

Attila now enters, in search of his bride, and the stage is set for a Quartetto finale. In the Allegro, ‘Tu, rea donna’, Attila accuses the three conspirators in turn, but in turn they answer, each with a different melodic line. At the climax of the number, offstage cries inform us that the attack has begun. Odabella stabs Attila, embraces Foresto, and the curtain falls.

The final act is, as several have pointed out, more than faintly ridiculous in its stage action, and parts of Verdi’s setting seem rather perfunctory; perhaps Solera’s original plan for a grand choral finale would have been more apt. Perhaps, indeed, the central problem with Attila is that it falls uncomfortably between being a drama of individuals (like Ernani or I due Foscari) and one that is essentially public (like Nabucco or I Lombardi). It is surely for this reason that two of the principals, Ezio and Foresto, are vague and undefined, never managing to emerge from the surrounding tableaux. On the other hand, Odabella and Attila, both of whom assume vocal prominence early in the opera, are more powerful dramatic presences. As with all of Verdi’s early operas, there are impressive individual moments, particularly in those grand ensemble movements that constantly inspired the composer to redefine and hone his dramatic language.

The young Verdi

The Met’s “Attila” already making headlines

From the New York Times:  ‘Attila’ and Muti in Debuts at the Met

From the New York Post: Curves banned from “Attila”

From Playbill Arts:  Enter the King: Mounting the Met’s First Attila

Some exclusive photos from Operachic:  Attila is the hunniest!

More on costumes and set on Fashionista.com:  First report of Prada’s costumes for the Metropolitan Opera’s “Attila”