Final post and THANKS!

We've enjoyed our little blog, All Hail Jennie, but it's time to bring it to an end.  We've met so many great people and we can't thank you enough for your support, but we're moving on to other fun projects.

Jennie has brought us such joy over the years.  We're thrilled she's embarking on so many wonderful new adventures.  Thanks Jennie!

Do you have a favorite singer or subject you love?  Start a blog!  It's free and fun and you never know where things will take you.

Talk to you all soon.
Much love, Paul & Katrin

When the hurlyburly’s done…

The play came, the play went.

That was that: an evening spent. (Scott C. Wells)

Macbeth, Grand Théâtre de Genève, June 2012 
 

When I first heard that Jennifer Larmore was going to sing Lady Macbeth I thought: “Madness!” and “This will be her undoing!” So it was with some trepidation that I went to Geneva for the new Christof Loy production of Verdi’s “Macbeth” at the Grand Théâtre. Lady Macbeth is such an iconic role: every actress wants to play her and every dramatic soprano wants to sing the part. Until now I had not placed Jennifer Larmore in the category “dramatic soprano”… but then I had never expected her to sing Countess Geschwitz or Kostelnicka either – and in both parts she triumphed! So maybe she would do the trick again and put to shame all those who scoffed at her audacity in tackling a dramatic Verdi role.

When I approached the opera house on the afternoon of June 24th I was greeted by deafening noises from a bandstand set up right in front of the theatre and a parade of gaudily dressed singers, dancers and acrobats hopping around the Place Neuve in some kind of horrible witches sabbath! Was this part of the production? The witches ballet from act 3? “Round about the cauldron go / In the poison’d entrails throw!” You never know these days…but, no, this vulgar spectacle was definitely not Loy style! My only worry was would this horrible hullaballoo go on during the whole afternoon and how would this affect the performance inside…? Fortunately the theatre was soundproof and no outside noises interfered with Verdi! Where Loy’s “Jenufa” at the Deutsche Oper Berlin had been set in a blindingly white box the new “Macbeth” was set in a very dark, gloomy room of a “Gothick” Scottish castle, with a big Tudor style fireplace on the left and a sweeping central staircase in the background (Design: Jonas Dahlberg; Lighting: Bernd Purkrabek) with associations of old black and white horror films of the 1930s or Victorian mystery thrillers.  This stage set was the perfect visual translation of Verdi’s darkest and gloomiest score. Loy again had this production tailor-made for Jennifer Larmore who spooks around the stage, as “The Woman in White” already during the overture. For her entrance aria she descends the grand staircase majestically clad in black velvet, and for the banqueting scene she wears a white crinoline right out of “Gone with the Wind” (costumes: Ursula Renzenbrink) – which made me think what a shame it is that there isn’t an opera based on this novel, as Scarlett O’Hara would have been her role of a lifetime.  She certainly looked every inch a queen.  As for her singing I would say she gave a historically informed performance of the role, firmly planting it in the belcanto tradition in which Verdi was rooted, ornamenting the reprise of the cabaletta “Or tutti sorgete” and also the brindisi. You rarely hear the trills in the drinking song “Si colmi il calice” so clearly chiselled. Also, her high notes were truly ringing throughout, her big asset these days. The problem with this role is that Verdi wanted to leave the old-style belcanto tradition behind with this opera, demanding a new singing style, more dramatic and declamatory, while at the same time he wrote “old-fashioned” arias, cavatine and cabalette that run contrary to his declarations. Maybe in 1847 he didn’t want to completely alienate audiences, so pacified them with “conventional” numbers alongside truly revolutionary ones like the duet after the murder and the sleepwalking scene, the crucial moments around which the whole piece revolves: “These numbers must absolutely not be sung, they must be acted and declaimed with a very muted and veiled voice.” The duet “Tutto è finito [“I have done the deed!”] – Fatal mia donna” was certainly a highlight of the performance, almost more whispered and hissed frantically and panic-fuelled than sung and so totally in keeping with Verdi’s instructions for it to be sung altogether “sotto voce” and “con sordino”. In the sleepwalking scene Verdi broke free from the conventional, Lucia/Puritani/Sonnambula-style mad scene, renouncing all empty virtuosity and meaningless coloratura cascades in favour of a straightforward singing line that mirrors the never-ending nightmare the Lady is now wrapped up in. The sombre and subdued orchestral colours (the haunting cor anglais!) make this scene one of the most spine-chilling and at the same time deeply moving of all opera, and Jennifer Larmore’s interpretation was truly riveting (never mind the now rather extended vibrato that has crept into her singing). We see the Lady slowly sinking to the ground, weighed down, as it were, by the burden of her conscience, and the feared D flat at the end has to be sung or rather breathed by her while lying flat on her back – not the most comfortable singing position to be sure! What the voice perhaps ultimately lacks to make it a true Verdi voice is a certain texture and clout, the “undaunted mettle” that makes this formidable character truly dominant. In the interval I overheard someone say “She is not Birgit Nilsson!” That’s neither here nor there. You could as well say that a cherry is not a strawberry or a cat not a dog! And I doubt Verdi had someone like Nilsson in mind when he wrote the music – simply because voices like this, I am sure, didn’t exist at the time. They were not needed: Tristan und Isolde, Elektra, Turandot had yet to be written! And you cannot impose a much later singing-style on a work from an earlier period (as has, of course, been done for much of the 20th century, and is still going on, despite the “HIP” movement opening up new perspectives on old and supposedly well-known works).

So Larmore once again acquitted herself valiantly against great odds and showed that you don’t have to be a Wagner or Verismo singer to do justice to early Verdi. She was helped in this by the fluent and transparent orchestra sound of the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande under the baton of Ingo Metzmacher which sounded almost like a period band in that the playing was always well-balanced, crisp and never too loud or rough, not drowning the singers (Verdi wrote for singers not in competition with them!). While doing perfect justice to the dramatic culmination points Metzmacher withstood the impulse of some conductors that seem to feel the need to whip up early Verdi into loud and glaring barrel organ vulgarity; he followed the composer’s instructions carefully, revealing the truly revolutionary things that Verdi did with the orchestra and which belie Wagner’s dictum that in Italian opera the orchestra is merely an “accompanying guitar” [“Begleitgitarre”].

The role of Macbeth was interpreted by Franco Vassallo, standing in at short notice for the indisposed Davide Damiani: a true velvety and chocolaty Verdi baritone of whom I hope to hear more in the future! His rendering of “Pietà, rispetto, amore” was a highlight. Loy had turned this monologue into a kind of lamento for the dying lady who was at this very moment expiring in Macbeth's arms – a strange Pietà-like scene, evoking King Lear and Cordelia! Christian van Horn gave true nobility to Banquo, as well as for his impressive stature as for his authoritative charcoal bass; Andrea Caré’s Macduff sounded clear as a clarion in his popular tenor aria “O figli miei”(the most conventional number in the opera, Verdi’s one major concession to audiences’ expectations). And special commendation must go to the excellent choir which hit the right strident and lurid notes for the witches and gave a truly moving and ultimately rousing rendering of the Scottish refugees’ chorus “Patria oppressa”. To sum up a brilliant performance of a favourite opera that was worth the trip to this very expensive place that is Geneva: My seat in the gods, miles away from the stage, was 95 chf (=77 euros), a price for which I get a front stalls seat in Berlin! Plus you need mountaineering skills and abseiling equipment to tackle the really steep steps of this amphitheatre and must absolutely not suffer from fear of heights! I saw some people really struggling.  The Grand Théâtre urgently needs air conditioning, it was insufferably hot and stuffy up there on Mont Blanc, without the cooling ice cap of that mountain massif!

Out of Moravia

Janácek's "Jenufa" at Deutsche Oper Berlin

A room, a clinically white box, so brightly lit that it makes your eyes hurt; empty save for a table and chair. A door opens and a woman in grey carrying a bag is ushered in. The door is closed behind her. The woman looks around as if for orientation, then comes to the front gazing abstractedly. The music then sets in, triggering a train of thoughts and emotions in the woman: one moment she is frowning, the next the trace of a smile crosses her face. It is the Kostelnicka in jail reflecting upon how things went so terribly wrong that she finds herself imprisoned. This is the stark beginning of Christof Loy’s interpretation of Janacek’s “Jenufa”. This claustrophobic stage set will be the same for the following 3 acts, the personages locked in as it were in a kind of terrarium where there is no escape from the strict code of morals of a tightly knit village community in which everyone knows and watches everyone and all are somehow related. The rear wall opens from time to time to show telegraph poles in a withered cornfield in Act I, and the same scenery, snow-covered and desolate, in Act II. In this abstract set the characters of the opera are moving like in a test arrangement, totally exposed to the gaze of the spectators.

Loy’s psychologically precise and subtle direction leaves no room for grand opera gestures and poses, but like in an Indian temple dance every single movement of a hand or even the blink of an eye has its proper meaning in a given context. Nothing in this no-nonsense, no gimmicks approach diverts the attention from a story that unravels inexorably as in a Greek tragedy.

The original title of the opera (as of the play by Gabriela Preissova) is “Her Stepdaughter”, indicating two female leads. Loy makes the Kostelnicka the pivot around which the action revolves. In conventional productions we have her portrayed as a prim moralizer, inevitably clad in black governess dress, terrorizing the whole village with her harangues. Old photographs by contrast show her surprisingly youthful and almost gaudily dressed in a kind of “dirndl”. Some time in the opera’s performance history veteran Wagnerian sopranos on the look-out for a farewell role that still offers ample opportunities for stentorian hectoring with which to cover up age-related loss of vocal focus pounced on this part.So, as a stone gathers dross, the originally quite harmless and respected member of the congregation, village agony-aunt and healer was turned into a veritable stepmother from hell and sister to the witch in “Hansel & Gretel”, feared and loathed by all, including her own terror-stricken step-child Jenufa.

How old is the Kostelnicka? Certainly not as old as the ex-Wagnerians on the threshold to the retirement home! If Grandma Buryjovka is, say, 65-70 years old and Jenufa 20, Steva and Laca in their early twenties, then this would make Kostelnicka a woman of between 45 and 50 years of age, a middle-aged matron but certainly not the customary old harridan!

Let’s get the complicated family relations of the Buryja clan clear: there is Grandma Buryjovka, who had two sons (both deceased); one was the father of Steva, the handsome, easy-going heartthrob. Steva’s mother had a son from a first marriage, Laca, introvert and overlooked, passed over despite being the elder as owner of the Buryja mill that went to Steva. Jenufa is the daughter of Old Buryjovka’s second son by his first wife who died in childbirth. He then married Petrona Slomkova who had been secretly in love with him for some time, and despite warnings from her mother about his bad character was only too happy to become his wife and stepmother to his little daughter. The marriage turned into a nightmare for Petrona, as her husband proved a brutal drunkard who would beat her up regularly and squander all their money until his timely death presumably from alcoholic cirrhosis. This traumatic marriage left Petrona scarred and determined to spare her stepdaughter a similar misfortune. But in real life as on the stage things do not always develop according to plan and sometimes even the most careful vigilance of the mother cannot prevent the daughter from going astray.

The casting of Jennifer Larmore in the role of Kostelnicka is a welcome divergence from the misuse made of this role mentioned above and consistent with Loy’s concept of showing her as an erring human being, not a monster. She may appear severe in the first Act when she imposes a probationary year on Steva in which he must abstain from drink before she will even consider a marriage between him and Jenufa. But she seems to be the only one in the village who appraises Steva’s character (or rather lack thereof) correctly. The Varnay/Mödl/Schlemm/Behrens/Silja fraction may have had their reservations about this role debut but in the event they (or most of them anyway) came away won over by a totally successful and convincing portrayal of a woman struggling to keep up appearances and trying to do the right thing within the prison walls of a rigid code of moral conduct. Larmore with her solid belcanto schooling proved that you can actually sing this part and need not howl the notes like an air-raid siren.

The second Act must surely be the most harrowing opera act ever written, with the possible exception of Act IV of “Otello”! Here the singer of the Kostelnicka must really “deliver”, and Larmore truly surpassed herself in portraying a woman in a terrible, almost unsolvable moral dilemma. As in Shakespearean or Greek tragedy the spectators know that calamity is impending, they long to interfere but are, of course, as powerless as the characters onstage to ward off the inevitable. Not that Preissova is in any way on a par with Shakespeare or Sophocles, but Janácek’s dramatic musical genius lifts maudlin melodrama to tragic heights. Often the antics of many a Kostelnicka in the moments leading up to the murder of the baby and her subsequent bouts of madness have turned the whole character into an unintentional parody. We witness operatic wringing of hands, flailing of arms and hysterical laughter. Nothing of this, thanks to Loy & Larmore, in this production. We see a loving mother-daughter relationship, Jenufa trusting and confident, the Kostelnicka already having misgivings about the irresponsible lover’s constancy When she, after pleading in vain with an evasive Steva to acknowledge his child and do the “decent thing”, takes the terrible decision to murder the baby she appears to crawl behind the door of Jenufa’s room, like one frightened by her own murderous impulses, as if to hide from the horrible deed she is going to commit, or from some powers above she imagines “peep[ing] through the blanket of the dark to cry: ‘hold, hold!’ ”
When she returns she is not the same person but a woman shaken to the very core by the unspeakable she has done. She is frantic with fear, her movements become erratic, and in Act 3 she can only sit crouched on a chair, scared and hollow-eyed, holding on to the bag in which she carried the baby to its icy death. In the end the finding of the baby’s body and her confession come as a relief to her and she walks out upright again, almost jauntily, saying to the dumbfounded mayor en passant: “Now lead me away!” She knows her botched life is over but that her daughter will have a happier future. – Or will she? Jenufa must be deeply traumatized by the fact that she had a baby she loved despite its being “illegitimate” and that was cruelly murdered by the woman she trusted. And now she will become the wife of the man who cut up her face. Laca may have reached the goal of his wishes in marrying the woman he loves, but will suffer lifelong remorse of his one jealous outburst in which he scarred her forever. They are both clad in sober black and walk towards a black horizon, or rather are swallowed up by a black hole, an unsettling picture which counteracts the optimistically surging music, but is consistent with the director’s analytic approach: there can be no simple “happy ending”. An uncertain future awaits the newly-weds, and it will take some time for them to sort out their lives.

Michaela Kaune as Jenufa makes plausible the development from ardently loving girl to grown-up woman who confidently takes her destiny in her own hands at the end, singing with luminous voice throughout, never once faltering in a vocally and physically challenging role. Maybe she is a tad too resigned, too meekly accepting her fate and too easily forgiving, but these are more or less the dictates of the role, and we 21st century audiences have to accept this.

The two half-brothers are also ideally typecast: Joseph Kaiser as Steva, tall and handsome, but also slinking and slouching, shirking responsibility wherever possible, sings with a soft, mellifluous tenor that insinuates itself in every woman’s heart. Will Hartmann as Laca, is shorter and stockier. He doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve and has difficulties articulating his feelings, so shows the world an indifferent, even morose exterior, his firm voice and ringing high notes betraying his passionate nature that sometimes flares up in violent outbursts. Hanna Schwarz as Old Buryjovka looks an unlikely village grandma when she comes in with a tin bucket and potato bowl wearing high heels and a red wig. Her singing is now of the caterwauling kind, and while I overheard someone, apparently belonging to the Silja fraction, say he would have wanted her to do the Kostelnicka, I for one was grateful that my eardrums and nerves were spared this ordeal.

The smaller roles are all excellently cast from the Deutsche Oper ensemble, with a cameo appearance of Nadine Secunde as the mayor’s wife. She provides a moment of comic relief before the final “showdown”, when she stuffs herself with doughnuts at the wedding breakfast, carping with a full mouth that she would never have her daughter marry in such a miserable way, “ill-clad and without a bridal wreath!” Her and her Karolka’s (Martina Welschenbach, peroxide blonde and fresh and proper as Doris Day) triumph in having captured the coveted Steva as a bridegroom is short-lived, however. When it is revealed that he is the father of Jenufa’s child found dead under the thawing ice of the millstream, they, like everyone else, shrink from him in horror.

Everyone agrees that with this production which has all the ingredients to become a “classic” the Deutsche Oper has been set on the right track again after years of artistic stagnation in a quagmire. And with the new Music Director Donald Runnicles at the helm the orchestra has at last found back to old form. From the first note Janácek’s music exerts its almost hypnotic pull. The mill-wheel’s mechanical rotation, churning the waters as well as the human passions in an eternal cycle, the strange, archaic rapping of the xylophone, hammering away on your nerves, set the mood for the next 2 hours of a relentlessly unfurling drama of crime and punishment.

Interview with the Diva

On the occasion of the run of "Orlando Furioso" at Théâtre des Champs-Elysées the Diva received our foreign correspondent at her beautiful Parisian home and granted the Blog an exclusive interview.


Question:You are celebrating your 25th anniversary on stage this year. In what way have things changed in the opera world since the beginning of your career?

Answer:Its been changing gradually and when that happens one doesn’t notice as much. One thing that has been noticeable however is that while the music itself used to be the most important it is now how young and good looking you are that seems to be of utmost importance. This has happened because agents have decided to put young singers in the position of “Stars” even before they’ve had a chance to prove themselves or pay their “dues”. This isn’t fair to those young people because you can’t just skip the steps it takes to learn your craft, get experience and feel more and more comfortable in your skin onstage. Making money on these singers is the goal and not helping to create a real artist. This will ultimately be detrimental to all involved as the young singer may burn out emotionally, vocally or even come to believe all the hype and never even try to reach their potential and then the career is shortened. Everyone loses in the end.

Q.:In what way , according to you, is opera as an art form still relevant in the 21st century?

A.:Opera will always be relevant because there will always be those people who love it and want it. It speaks to the heart like nothing else can. True, the majority doesn’t understand or even want to, but for the ones who do, it’s eternal.

Q.:You are currently singing Alcina in Vivaldi’s Orlando Furioso in Paris and on tour in several European cities, a role you have sung many times in concert performances and on a memorable recording with J.-C. Spinosi. It occurred to me during the performance that Alcina who manipulates men and toys with them, like Circe who turns Ulysses’ companions into pigs, begins to lose her grip on things the moment she seriously falls in love, i.e. becomes “human”. How do you see the role of the sorceress in this piece?

A.: Alcina is on a journey that ultimately and surprisingly destroys her. She begins the opera seeing Love as a game. But when she falls in love for real, then she becomes its unrequited victim. She isn’t immune to the power of love or human emotion like she thought she was. It really surprises her in the end and she can’t accept her human like failings.

Q.:You have travelled a long way from the Rosinas and Angelinas of your earlier days to “grown up”-roles like Fricka in “Das Rheingold”, Countess Geschwitz in “Lulu” and upcoming Kostelnicka in “Jenufa” as well as Lady Macbeth! How do you make the transition?

A.:I sing whatever I sing with the voice that I have. There has been a vocal evolution through the years to be sure. My voice has taken on different colors and depths as well as personality, and if it isn’t exactly what it was as a young singer, that’s OK. It’s different and in some ways even better! The roles I have chosen to do through the years exemplify my voice as it is at that given moment. These roles also allow me to enjoy a depth of dramatic feeling and acting that maybe I just wasn’t capable of when I was younger. The transition itself has been rather effortless because I don’t pretend to sing any of these new roles as someone else might sing them but only as I am capable of singing them.

Q.:In recent years you seem to have become a favourite of German director Christof Loy’s. How did this “special relationship” come about and how would you describe working with him?

A.:I first met Christof Loy at my Paris apartment to talk over the role of “Geschwitz” in Berg’s LULU for his new production at Covent Garden. I immediately fell in love with his way of thinking, his joy for the project and ultimately his way of working. The feeling was mutual and after a wonderful MERRY WIDOW in Geneva, we are doing “Macbeth” together at Geneva again and Jenufa at the Deutsche Oper Berlin.

Q.:You teach masterclasses. How do you see your role, your responsibilty as teacher? In what way do you think young singers can learn from your experience, your career?

A.:Master classes are a passion of mine because I can see such an instant improvement in the well being and therefore the voice of the singer in just that 30 minute session! I don’t presume to teach technically in that amount of time, but I do believe its possible to zero in on the most important thing that could help that specific singer psychologically to open up their body and voice; I seem to be rather good at it so it’s encouraging for the future! I have 25 years of experience to give weight behind the things I say and I feel it’s a real duty to tell others what I’ve been through. That’s why the Q & A sessions at the end are so important.

Q.:Now for some more unpleasant aspects of the opera world; keywords: favouritism, sexism, ageism … Your experiences with any of these.

A.:Of course there is always a bit of all of this happening in the entertainment world, but to tell you he honest truth, I haven’t had terrible experiences that I can remember. The voice is a special animal! People do have their favorites and its not all just about the sound. It has to do with the total package and so I completely understand if I’m passed over for another Mezzo because I just wasn’t what they were looking for! It’s normal. There also comes a time in everyone’s career where you aren’t the new young thing anymore and there’s a new “flavor of the month”. If you’ve sung for 25 years, no matter how good you are, you are “old news” and you shouldn’t even try to compete with the “New”. Let them have their time and enjoy the time you’re in now!

Q.:What do you love most about your life and career right now?

A.:The changes and excitement that come with learning new, dramatic roles into which I can “sink my teeth”! The chance to work with interesting, insightful people, the fact of living in Europe. My family and friends and loved ones make it all worth it!

Q.:How do you deal with the moments when there is just “too much music to learn?”

A.:I get crazy and then just DO it! The only way to make yourself feel better is to do the work.

Q.:You have recently taken up residence in Paris. Do you have a special affinity to this city, to France?

A.:I began my career in France and it was the first country to open wide its arms and welcome me in as a young, unknown singer. I have always loved France and still do!

Q.:Are singers constantly concerned about their voice? Scarves wrapped around the throat, hats, cough drops?

A.: I’m not neurotic about it and made a decision early on not to let it rule me, but a singer must be smart and take care of oneself! You can’t do what normal people do because the instrument is inside the body, so it becomes a way of life to protect yourself.

Q.: Do you follow any rituals before the performance?

A.: Not a one. I’m not superstitious at all!

Les Liaisons Dangereuses or Alcina's Enchanted Island

Ludovico Ariosto’s epic poem "Orlando Furioso" is one of world literature’s most influential works, having inspired artists and writers through the centuries down to 20th century comics, sci-fi movies and post-modern pulp fiction. The fantastic plot with ogres, dragons, sea monsters, valiant knights, damsels in distress, a flying island and a trip to the moon proved a goldmine for opera composers, too. Handel alone based three of his operas on it. Vivaldi was up til recently known as a composer of, as Stravinsky maliciously put it, 300 times the same concerto...But it was only a question of time until the operas of this prolific musician would be excavated from the archives where they had gathered dust for 3 centuries. Jean-Christophe Spinosi is one of the protagonists of the Vivaldi revival, and ever since he recorded “Orlando Furioso” to worldwide critical acclaim there had been talk of staging it. The Théâtre des Champs-Elysées in Paris assembled the protagonists of this memorable recording this past march in a very elegant if sombre production by Pierre Audi. The Baroque theatre loved to put on lavish spectacles with a lot of machinery. Nowadays mechanical tricks have given way to psychological insight. So the setting was not an enchanted island but rather the somewhat morbid atmosphere of an austere Venetian palace where the wandering lovers are kept in a kind of claustrophobic “huis clos” under the control of Alcina. The magician of undetermined age – she could be several centuries old like Emilia Marty in “The Makropoulos Case” – is entangled in several dangerous liaisons with men whom she keeps in thrall with magic potions and manipulates according to her own wiles. The dramaturgy of the opera creaks a bit in the hinges like rusty stage machinery, as Vivaldi unlike Handel who wisely split up the convoluted plot into two operas (“Orlando” & “Alcina”) mixes the Alcina & Ruggiero story with the errant Orlando’s quest for his lost love Angelica who in turn is in pursuit of her own lover Medoro… Whenever things come to a seemingly unsolvable head enter Orlando raving and ranting. Marie-Nicole Lemieux in the title-role stormed and raged frighteningly, with never a note of the fierce coloratura awry! - upsetting the carefully arranged furniture in Alcina’s palazzo for which misdemeanour the lady of the house locked him up in a dark room! This nuisance removed for the time being Alcina can turn her full attention to her newest acquisition, the charming young knight Ruggiero, betrothed to Bradamante (who follows him disguised in men’s clothing) whom he callously forgets as soon as he sets eyes on the enchantress. Philippe Jaroussky as Ruggiero was the ideal personification of (male) innocence in danger, singing his transcendentally beautiful aria “Sol da te, mio dolce amore” with angelic voice, enchanting the enchantress and the audience alike. Alcina turns from temptress into helpless victim of an overpowering passion, and from this moment , when she shows real emotion, she starts losing control and her magic edifice begins to show cracks. Jennifer Larmore gave a first class impersonation of the sorceress, running the gamut from triumphant ruler over her magic empire with her fierce entrance aria “Alza in quegl’occhi”, via woman in love, “Amorose da rai del sole”, to growing fear and despair over losing her love and power at the same time in a poignant rendering of “Così potessi anch’io”. In the third act when all the characters are locked up in a kind of Hogarthian Bedlam she regaled us with a madscene that was worthy of Phèdre, simmering with quiet rage and despair, a real Racinian tragédienne! It was only consistent with a rather pessimistic reading of this piece that the director here changed the conventional happy ending of opera seria and has Alcina swallow poison. Orlando, in a strait jacket, remains locked in his own madness, and the others are left “smothered in surmise”, the knowledge dawning on them that nothing can be as it was before they got into this haunted palace; there is no returning to square one…With such a formidable performance in the central (if not the title) role it was difficult for the remaining singers to make much of an impact. This is again partly the fault of the composer/librettist who gave the roles of the comprimarii hardly any scope to develop full-bodied characterizations. Veronica Cangemi was a clear-voiced, touching Angelica; Romina Basso embodied her lover Medoro, sweet of voice and demeanour, and Kristina Hammarström an energetic and muscular Bradamante, Ruggiero’s betrothed,( who incidentally appeared more masculine than her rather girlish beloved). Christian Senn stood out as the only “proper” male voice in the whole ensemble, with a warm baritone ,making the best of the rather ungrateful role of Astolfo, Alcina’s discarded lover and helpmate in her intrigues.

Ensemble Matheus’ performance in the pit was dynamic and animated, you sensed the musicians’ familiarity with the score as they breathed fresh life into every note. “Historically informed performance” has come a long way since the first tentative experiments in the 1960s and 70s by the “pioneers”. Nowadays you have period bands that can produce as plush a sound as any traditional orchestra without losing any of the precision and transparency needed for baroque music. Spinosi's interpretation has lost some of its rough edges over the years, but none of its vigour and freshness.

So four hours (including two intervals) went by like nothing, and I shall never understand why people always mutter about the l e n g t h of Baroque operas but sit through 5, 6 hours of Wagner uncomplainingly!

Lady Valencienne's Fan

Not really caring for schmaltzy Viennese operetta I had originally had no intention of going to Geneva for Die Lustige Witwe/ The Merry Widow/La Veuve Joyeuse, especially as JL was not even singing the lead. But a short while ago I received a calling from above a faithful poodle could not ignore, so booked a ticket in the cheapest category, a flight (not so cheap on short notice) and a hotel room (probably cheap by Swiss standards) and set out in anticipation of a nice New Year’s Eve entertainment. I dimly remembered having been there before, 15 years ago, “L’Italiana in Algeri” at the Grand Théâtre, a party at a lakeside villa and a pair of black trousers being lost in transit (a subject of chaff among my friends ever since…this time I “played safe” and wore a skirt…)
The Merry Widow I had so far known only in the shape of the old Lubitsch movie starring Jeannette MacDonald and Maurice Chevalier. Of the Loy production it can be said that it was sober and decidedly un- schmaltzy – for which I was grateful. The setting was (apparently) a hotel-lobby, thirties-style, modelled on the entrance hall of the Palais des Nations. My fellow-Berliner Annette Dasch was in keeping with this anti-glamour interpretation in being a rather square and homespun Hanna Glawari. But who says that this role must be played like a “diva”?! The Vilja-Lied was rendered simply and touchingly, avoiding the pitfalls of kitsch of this “Wunschkonzert” number . Why the poor woman had to sing this clad only in bra and slip however was a twist of the Regisseur I could not quite follow. I shivered in her place although it was pretty warm in my seat in the gods. Johannes Martin Kraenzle was a dashing Danilo, his warm baritone belying his assumed rakish attitude. I was touched to see the great José van Dam again in the role of Baron Zeta after so many years whom I had admired in many performances at the Deutsche Oper in the 1970s.
Glitz and glam which this piece can after all not do without was added by JL in the role of Valencienne, wife to Baron Zeta, in this Genevan (i.e. cosmopolitan) version “an American from NYC with artistic ambition”. She got the most gorgeous dresses (and dessous!) and her rendition of Foolish Heart from Weill’s One Touch of Venus was a real show-stopper. Her admirer Camille de Rossillon was the young Swiss tenor Bernard Richter, fresh of looks and voice, whom she follows into the chambre séparée (all the while protesting that she is “a respectable wife!”, but only a woman of super-human virtue would resist such an ardently sung invitation!), and the almost Puccini-esque duet “Komm in den kleinen Pavillon” was another highlight of the evening. The whole intrigue here revolves around a lost fan, but whereas a lost handkerchief in “Othello” triggers a tragedy, a fan can pass through many hands and return to its owner without any harm being done. Still one should not trifle with these seemingly insignificant utensils. A fan might get lost irretrievably (like a pair of trousers) with dire consequences. But I digress…After all an operetta must have a happy ending: Valencienne remains an exemplar wife –transgressing only in doing a cancan in dessous –, Hanna gets her Danilo, safely depositing her millions in a Swiss bank, and they all live happily ever after to the tune of “Lippen schweigen, ‘s flüstern Geigen…”
I saw older members of the audience swaying (“schunkeln”) to the popular tunes remembered from their youth (and probably humming along inwardly). One elderly lady said starry-eyed (in German): “Das war ja ein richtiges Wunschkonzert!”
And, yes, I, too, got my money’s worth – although you are really being ripped off in that country: 16 chf for the programme, 2 chf for the coatcheck – and you could also book a posh New Year’s Eve dinner at 185 chf p.p. “Caviar to the general!” I say with Hamlet. Give me a decent Swiss fondue and I am with you! So the faithful poodle returned to the hotel without having got so much as a dog biscuit or a bone to gnaw upon and went to bed hungry. I think I now know why I’ve always preferred cats – they are independent, individualistic, wayward, unpredictable - and they never obey orders!

Quiet.

Why We Love Our Diva!

Riveting:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=idZhLHu1SIk

Email the Met and ask why Jennie is not on their upcoming schedule:

http://www.metoperafamily.org/metopera/utility/contact/

The Splendours of Würzburg

The Würzburg Mozartfest was founded in 1921, which makes it one of the oldest music festivals in Germany; in fact it is only one year younger than the Salzburg Festival. Whereas Salzburg can boast of being the birthplace of “Wolferl” and the “Mozartkugel”, the composer only touched down once at Würzburg for a coffee break on the way to Frankfurt. As he informed his wife by letter he found the town “beautiful and magnificent”(“eine schöne, prächtige Stadt”). This verdict still holds true after more than two centuries. There is the pleasant site on the banks of the river Main meandering through vineyards; the mighty Marienburg castle dominating the townscape; the old Main bridge leading up to the towering Romanesque St. Kilian’s cathedral ; St. Mary’s Chapel on market square with the statues of Adam and Eve by Riemenschneider – and, of course, the famous Residenz Palace, arguably Germany’s most sumptuous Baroque palace, built by Balthasar Neumann, and a Unesco World Heritage site.



When you enter the palace you ascend the magnificent flight of stairs, Neumann’s most ingenious construction, where formerly royalty and prince bishops made their grand entrance, and your eyes go up to the vaulted ceiling decorated with Tiepolo’s brilliant “Technicolor” frescoes showing the four continents as they were known in the 18th century. America greets you as a shapely "Red Indian" woman sporting a colourful feather headdress and straddling an alligator! Asia and Africa float into view with turbaned figures riding camels and elephants and hunting the tiger. Such was the genius of the artist that you get the impression the whole painting is moving like a Cinemascope film, altering its shape with every step you take! The whole programme culminates in the triumph of Europe, leading in arts and culture (No, this is definitely no politically correct world vision!) We see Balthasar Neumann lolling on a cannon as if resting after the completion of his work and looking rather smug. Up in the left hand corner Tiepolo casts a rather detached glance at the world. The Weisser Saal gives your eyes and senses a rest in that it is only decorated with white stucco, and then you enter the Kaisersaal to be overwhelmed again by an explosion of colour and exuberant ornamentation. It is in this hall that most of the concerts of the Mozartfest take place and you involuntarily ask yourself how you will be able to concentrate on sound rather than sight in this room.



The aptly named Balthasar-Neumann-Ensemble has been appointed “orchestra –in-residence” to the festival as from this year. The programme on July 3rd and 4th consisted of bel canto arias and Schubert’s Great C Major Symphony. After a stirring rendition of Rossini’s “Guillaume Tell” overture by the ensemble under the baton of Thomas Hengelbrock, Jennie swept into the hall and sang a rousing drinking song (“Il segreto per esser felici”) from Donizetti’s “Lucrezia Borgia”, Romeo’s fiery and at the same time pleading “Lieto del dolce incarco” from Bellini’s “I Capuleti ed i Montecchi” and “Nacqui all’affanno” from “La Cenerentola”, touching in the beginning and triumphant in the “Non più mesta” section. The vocal fireworks earned our diva a mighty cheer which led to an encore, a totally unexpected aria from Mascagni’s little-known opera “Sì”, apparently Thomas Hengelbrock’s choice and which he announced as dealing with a woman who couldn’t say NO! This piece was a very simple and moving aria of regret and farewell, which Jennie sang with sincerity of feeling and beauty of tone. After the break the Balthasar-Neumann-Ensemble gave a riveting performance of Schubert’s C Major symphony which had me on the edge of my seat. I said to our diva - next to whom I had the honour of sitting on the second evening – that it was a long time since a rendering of this my favourite symphony had swept me so completely away from the opening bars to the last note! The strings were luscious, the brass brilliant, the woodwinds hauntingly beautiful and the basses virtuosic (especially the leader). I don’t think there is a recording of this symphony in “HIP”, so I hope this masterly interpretation will be made available on cd later. To sum up, two exhilarating concerts which kept me humming snatches of Schubert intermingled with Donizetti and Rossini for days to come. And in the end I was not distracted by the gaudy splendours surrounding me. Gorgeous as this hall is, I have to say that it is not an ideal setting for big orchestral concerts. The acoustics are problematic (to say the least), the orchestra was crammed on a way too small platform (some musicians were standing up all the time) and the heat was oppressive (there being no air conditioning), and the windows had to be kept shut because of the noise made by rioting soccer fans in the town!

Fit for a Queen (or How Jennie Kicked Hamlet's Butt)

I rarely attend opera these days, but when the opportunity arose to be in NYC while Jennie was engaged to perform in Ambroise Thomas' Hamlet, I scrambled to make reservations, order tickets and turn in my coins in order to get my sorry ass to my old stomping grounds. Since arriving in Los Angeles 7 years ago, I’ve found my opera experiences to be simply ok; nothing great, an occasional good performance here or there. As the night approached, I had a feeling this was going to be a good experience. Natalie Dessay came to her senses and thankfully cancelled the entire run as Ophelia, so good luck was on my side. I didn’t care who sang Ophelia because I was there to see our mezzo as Gertrude. For me, this would be the first time I’d seen her in a staged role in almost 8 years. I was overdue.

view from our seats

Since I suffer from pre-movie and opera jitters, we arrived at the Met extra early to use the facilities and wander around our old home-away-from-home. The buzz was good. We got to our seats, saw the same old, wrinkly faces I saw 7 years ago and was comforted by the Met’s garish gold leaf ceilings, chandeliers and tightly fit seats.

The overture begins and Gertrude is the first character we see walk across the foot of the stage. Jennie not just walks, but manages to capture everything her character will endure, all in a few regal steps and one quick, heartbreaking stare. This alone should win her an opera Oscar. Her receding hairline wig that was plastered over the papers a week before was gone and she was beauty personified, along with some major cleavage.

Gertrude and cleavage

I have no problem saying Jennifer kicked-ass, old school, as Gertrude. She was completely in character and on some other plane every moment she was onstage. Every stare, every movement had meaning. Her singing came from a deep place, easily audible from our modest seats and she seemed to be the only singer whose French diction and French style was near perfect. She sank her teeth into every word and we hung on every one. The confrontation scene was reminiscent of The Miracle Worker dinner fight where Anne Bancroft and Patty Duke fling themselves across the room. It was riveting and I was frozen on the edge of my seat.

Jennifer Larmore as Gertrude encompassed all that has been missing in opera these days. This was grand opera and her performance was a tour-de-force; completely over-the-top, exaggerated and deeply moving. My partner turned to me during the curtain-call and asked, “Do you know how good she was?” Um, yes…I was happy to see others in the audience and in the press agreed. I hope the Met understands what they had in her Gertrude. The few naysayers who still refuse to see what the fuss is all about can simply go fuck themselves. I’ll be watching the broadcast and hopefully buy the DVD and in years to come will be thankful this artist will have endured the test of time. I am one happy camper.

curtain call

"Lulu, mein Engel..."

Twelvetone music of the Second Viennese School is not for the faint-hearted. So it was with some trepidation that I went to the Royal Opera’s new production of Alban Berg’s “Lulu” despite having done my homework - and taken a large dose of Handel at the Halle festival to brace me for the coming…ordeal! But I need not have worried: the story is thrilling and the music has its own hypnotic pull, so that the piece grips you after a few minutes and you are carried along like in a Hitchcock movie! The radically minimalist production by Christoph Loy was at once demanding and enlightening with its stress on the psychology of the characters, having no props, gadgets & gimmicks to divert the attention of the audience, but forcing singer-actors and spectators alike to concentrate on a stringent development of the fateful events of this gloomy drama.

The picture of human nature at its most seedy, sordid and depraved that Frank Wedekind painted in his "Monstertragödie", made up of the two plays “Erdgeist” and “Die Büchse der Pandora”, is not an edifying one, and it is difficult to identify or sympathize with any of the characters. It is a satirical street ballad in the vein of Hogarth’s set of engravings entitled “A Harlot’s Progress”. Even if Berg softened Wedekind’s satirical venom, this is not “La Traviata” where you can suffer with the consumptive heroine and cry your eyes out over her sad end. Of course, taken literally, “Traviata” means “gone astray”, and in this sense Lulu is a latter-day Traviata, minus all the sentimental trappings Dumas & Verdi had to clad the story in to make a prostitute as heroine palatable to mid-19th century audiences. 50 years later Wedekind still encountered the same difficulties, the censors allowing only private performances of his plays for a handpicked audience.

When Berg decided to set the plays to music the situation had become even worse. After 1933 there was no chance of seeing an opera with such an obscene subject performed on a German or Austrian stage. The fact that twelvetone music was now declared un-German and "entartet" (degenerate) didn’t make things easier for the composer. At his sudden death at the age of only 50 he left the opera unfinished, and the torso was premiered in Zurich in 1937. It was only in the 1970s that the Austrian composer Friedrich Cerha undertook the completion of the third act on the basis of Berg’s drafts, and this version, premiered in Paris in 1978, has since become the accepted one.

The title-role poses enormous difficulties for a soprano, vocal as well as physical. It is no showpiece for a blasée primadonna, but the singer who undertakes it has to be prepared to commit herself totally - body and soul. Berg saw the character as the female pendant to Don Juan, only that her female sexuality is less overtly aggressive than the Don’s. But her manipulative wiles nevertheless wreak havoc among the persons who come near her, men and women alike. Wedekind wanted her to be played “like the Madonna”, so the reviewers who found fault with Agneta Eichenholtz’s impersonation because in their eyes she was not femme fatale enough missed the point entirely (in my opinion at least). Die Urgestalt des Weibes is a cipher, a blank canvas onto which everyone can (and does) project their own desires and fantasies. Lulu is neither angel nor demon but becomes what successive lovers want her to be.
Agneta Eichenholtz looked like Snow White, totally innocent and harmless, as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, which made her rendering of the lines “Wenn die Menschen sich für mich umbringen, dafür kann ich doch nicht!”all the more chilling. She impersonated this “somnambulist in the field of love” (“Nachtwandlerin der Liebe” - Karl Kraus), who floats through life aimlessly and like an automaton, without taking notice of her surroundings, to perfection. Vocally she was also up to the challenge, her light girlish timbre matching her ingenue looks.

Of course, “Lulu” is an ensemble piece and the ROH had come up with a formidable array of first-class singers for all the other parts. Michael Volle made a very strong impact as the doomed alpha male Dr. Schön who, in vain, tries to assert his authority over Lulu and is manipulated by her into marriage and subsequently killed. His strong voice and robust physique stood in stark contrast to his emotional and psychological helplessness. Here was a fall indeed! In the end he gets his revenge when he returns as Jack the Ripper to finish Lulu off! Klaus-Florian Vogt had the right anodyne voice for Dr. Schön’s weakling son Alwa; Will Hartmann gave a touching performance as the guileless painter; Philip Langridge was equally convincing as the Prince who sees in Lulu the ideal wife and the sinister Marquis who threatens to sell her to an Egyptian brothel; Peter Rose (whom I remember as a great Basilio in the unforgettable “Barbiere” at Berlin Staatsoper with Jennifer Larmore, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, William Matteuzzi and Carlos Chausson in 1994!) as the animal trainer of the prologue and the athlete added a humoristic touch and reminded one that “Lulu” is also a comedy of sorts; Gwynne Howell was the shady Schigolch, the evil spirit, like Hoffmann's Dappertutto, who mysteriously seems to pull the strings from behind the scenes.

Which leaves only one character still to deal with: Gräfin Geschwitz. According to Wedekind she is "the tragic central character” (“die tragische Hauptperson”) of the piece; she loves Lulu unconditionally and “in an act of superhuman self-sacrifice” follows her to the bitter end. Apparently Christoph Loy took Wedekind at his word and made every effort to show the countess as the single sympathetic person in this array of freakish characters. In an interview he said that he didn’t want a cliché lesbian but “a feminine and attractive Geschwitz, a delicate creature, but one who is consistent in her actions. She remains true to her love for Lulu even though Lulu increasingly turns away from her.” To make his point Loy even went so far as to alter the final scene and lets the countess escape the Ripper’s knife: “I really feel that Geschwitz’s murder doesn’t need to be recounted. I’d be happy for her to survive, so that at that moment the Utopian element in the music also becomes a factor in the plot – so that tenderness and love can survive.” Hmmmm…I have to confess I was not entirely happy with this solution; although the effect of countess Geschwitz delivering her final lines “Lulu, mein Engel…” standing up, like entranced, with a spotlight from above illuminating her face was quite stunning and even otherworldly. But in my view there is nothing Utopian in this most bleak and gloomy piece and there can be no survivors.

What did Jennie make of this part which at first sight seems a very odd choice indeed for her, given her credentials as a Baroque and belcanto singer? How would she, the charming Rosina, the touching Angelina, the pert Isabella, the imperious Caesar, the tomboyish Hansel, the sultry Carmen, the lovelorn Marguerite fare as the doomed lesbian countess? Well, I can say she scored a resounding success! Critics were unanimous in their praise for her humane, sincere, touching and intelligently-nuanced interpretation. (See the listing of quotations below.) She was utterly convincing in her acting and in her singing, avoiding all caricature, delivering even cliché-laden lines like “Ich muß für Frauenrechte kämpfen, Jurisprudenz studieren.“ (Beware! No „normal“ woman would do such a thing!) with conviction. Even M. Brug, the often venomous critic of “Die Welt”, was bowled over (my translation): “The biggest surprise was Jennifer Larmore, the well-known queen of Rossini roulades: she impersonates countess Geschwitz as truly loving (“aufrichtig Liebende”), with sparing gestures to great effect, moving in every nuance of her singing.”

In short, her portrayal was an utter triumph and she can add another role to her still growing repertoire. I who had heard her only a couple of days before in a concert of Handel arias at the Halle festival was amazed how she could switch so seemingly effortlessly between Baroque and twelvetone music.

Last but not least, the excellent orchestra of the ROH, under the baton of Antonio Pappano, contributed to the success of this staging by delivering this complex and intricate score with eloquence and passion, emphasizing the lush Mahlerian qualities of this rhapsodic music, so that I who had entered the opera house with some misgivings came away utterly enthralled. I have climbed Mount (Berg!) Everest of twelvetone music and now new horizons have opened up before me.

And I am happy to report that this memorable performance was recorded and will later be made available on dvd!

To Sir, With Love...

Jennie sang her first Countess Geschwitz in Berg's Lulu on June 4 at the Royal Opera House in London. The reviews were quick to come out and many! Pictures on All Hail Jennie/Facebook. Looks like a role Jennie can sink her teeth into. And she looks fabulous. I sure hope the ROH releases it on DVD. A radio broadcast on BBC3 is scheduled for July 4 but do stay tuned for Katrin's in depth blog review of her experience seeing Lulu live!

Go Jennie:

"...Jennifer Larmore sang Countess Geschwitz with devastating beauty and her deep attachment to Lulu was clear from the outset. A fantastically moving performance..."

“…The Countess was played by a wonderful Jennifer Larmore with a quiet power that was traced with yearning poignancy throughout…”

“…Jennifer Larmore’s feminine Geschwitz is a surprising success…”

“…Jennifer Larmore's cheerful and well-groomed version of the melancholy lesbian Countess Geschwitz…”

“…Jennifer Larmore's glamorous Countess Geschwitz…”

"...Inherently more sympathetic, Countess Geschwitz became the more involving through Jennifer Larmore's assumption – yielding and vulnerable, yet with an inner resolve and sense of self-sacrifice that intensified over the opera in a way that Eichenholz's Lulu never quite managed. If this had seemed an unlikely role for the American singer, it is one she brought off with conviction..."

“…a dramatic and enigmatic portrayal of Geschwitz…”

“…the excellent Jennifer Larmore…”

“…Jennifer Larmore was a more feminine Geschwitz than one often hears, beautifully sung…”

“…Jennifer Larmore's Countess Geschwitz is also a far more sympathetic portrayal than the butch Cruella DeVille some assume gay people must be…”

“…Jennifer Larmore's lovestruck, guileless Geschwitz – Loy's cleverest characterisation – holds a tiny kernel of kindness in an otherwise unremittingly brutal and depressing creation…”

“…Larmore’s Geschwitz brought a sympathetic, attractive quality to the role of the lesbian
countess…”

"...Jennifer Larmore’s superbly sung Countess Geschwitz..."

"...Jennifer Larmore looked and sounded stunning as the lesbian Countess Geschwitz..."

"...Jennifer Larmore gave a touching and intelligently-nuanced performance as Gräfin Geschwitz, the reverse-image of the iron-clad Lulu in her femininity and vulnerabilty..."

Coughing at the Concert

"Husten im Konzert" is the title of a short story by Heinrich Böll in which he describes various types of compulsive coughing at concerts, and I was reminded of this story at a recent performance of Handel's "Messiah" in Paris. Now, you would think that by April the coughing and sneezing season is over, but it seems the flu and bronchitis of winter simply give way to hayfever in spring! But as Böll and all enervated concert goers know this coughing has something of an obsessive-compulsive disorder for which science has yet to find a remedy. One thing Böll doesn't mention (because he didn't live to know them) are the ubiquitous cell phones, the bane of our time, that accompanied Händel's music all through the evening with their persistent bleeping - the announcement at the beginning of the concert to switch them off blissfully ignored by their owners! This irritating lack of discipline is unfortunately on the rise and I have of late seen conductors turn round to shush the audience or singers like Thomas Quasthoff interrupt their recitals to ask for silence - and rightly so, as this kind of misbehaviour shows a lack of respect for a work of art and its performers! And I am afraid this constant coughing, sneezing and bleeping seriously interfered with my enjoyment of Händel's masterpiece which should have people sitting on the edge of their seats holding their breath, especially with such a truly riveting performance as the combined forces of the Ensemble Matheus, the Arnold-Schoenberg-Chor and the soloists (in alphabetical order) Florian Boesch, Cornelia Horak, Jennifer Larmore and Topi Lehtipuu offered on this Good Friday night at the Théâtre des Champs-Elysées! Händel has this effect on me that when I feel the least bit down in the mouth or put out a few bars of his music suffice to cheer me up! This music exudes some kind of positive energy and a performance of one of his oratorios, operas or concerti makes me come out of the concert floating several inches above the ground and feeling like a better human being! "Messiah" has this additional effect that the tunes are so catchy you have to force yourself to not sing along! Of course, I had gone because of JL in the first place, and whereas her first aria "But who may abide" suffered from Spinosi abruptly "running away" with the orchestra in the rapid passage of "And who shall stand when He appeareth?" which left her rather out of breath, "O thou that tellest" was infused with the spirit of the "good tidings" this aria proclaims, and the emphatic repetitions of "Behold your God" set the mood for the rest of the evening. "He was despised" is the centre and turning point of the whole piece and the most moving of arias. JL sang this with touching sincerity and poignant directness that went straight to the heart. Unfortunately it was during this aria that the assembled patients of the lung sanatorium conspired to "enliven" this plangent piece by unleashing and avalanche of coughs and sneezes into the auditorium! One or two cell-phones were roused into furious bleeping by this and the cacophony was perfect! In moments like these I envy mad King Ludwig of Bavaria who commanded separate performances only for himself! But I, poor mortal, alas, don't wield royal power and consequently must suffer!
The soprano Cornelia Horak delivered her arias with clarity of tone and simplicity ("Innigkeit"), which is of particular importance in the moving and uplifting "I know that my Redeemer liveth". Tenor Topi Lehtipuu is tried and tested in this kind of repertoire and sang stylishly and with clear articulation. Florian Boesch's gorgeous bass voice is fit for Wagner, but he never shouted or boomed, and he had the necessary agility for the quick passages of "Why do the nations", and the coloratura was neat throughout. His rendition of "The trumpet shall sound" brought the house down - and for once drowned out the assembled coughers, sneezers and cell-phones! The Arnold-Schönberg-Chor sang exquisitely and their smooth and plush sound was a joy to listen to. Spinosi and his band are known for fast-paced and energetic performances of Baroque music, notably Vivaldi, and their rendering of Händel's master score was at once vivid and animated, stressing the drama but also doing justice to the more reflective moments. The audience responded enthusiastically at the end which led to an encore of the Hallelujah chorus in which all the soloists joined. All in all an exhilarating, uplifting and truly inspired performance which made me float out of the hall as on a cloud and feeling in perfect accord with the universe.
N.B.: This Böll story should be made compulsory reading for any concert goer and should be read out to audiences before a concert via loudspeakers!

Practice Makes Perfect!

If you want to experience the magic of Jennie, look no further than the following YouTube clip. If this doesn't put a huge smile on your face, then you might want to check your pulse or find the number of a good mortician:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1gvJP6RcAo

Spitzenklasse!

I Love Opera Blogs...Well, Some of Them...

The blog Prima La Musica has a great little review of Jennie's Paris L'Italiana dvd. I saw Jennie sing this role at the Met and the duet (O Che Muso) had me in stitches. It was the first time I really had the giggles at the opera. The chemistry (or lack thereof!) between Jennie and Samuel Ramey was brilliant. It was an honor to see two pros on the same stage singing Rossini in the manner in which it simply must be sung.

Check out the review but also give a look at this great blog for a taste of opera in Australia:

http://primalamusica.typepad.com/primalamusica/2009/02/guardami.html

Jennie at the Met in 2010!

I guess this means I'll be returning to NYC. From the Met's official press release, Jennie will be heard in Thomas' Hamlet in March of 2010:

The new production of Ambroise Thomas’s Hamlet, which opens on March 16, stars Simon Keenlyside in the title role and Natalie Dessay as Ophélie. Louis Langrée conducts a cast that also includes Jennifer Larmore as Gertrude, Toby Spence as Laërte, in his Met debut, and James Morris as Claudius. The production is by Patrice Caurier and Moshe Leiser with set designs by Christian Fenouillat, costume designs by Agostino Cavalca, and lighting designs by Christophe Forey – all in their Met debuts. When this production opened at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, The Independent called Keenlyside’s Hamlet, “a revelation…thrilling throughout.” The Met performances will use the alternative tragic ending, rather than the happy ending used at Covent Garden. Hamlet was last performed at the Met in 1897 and is particularly known for Ophélie’s famous mad scene, which was a favorite of such legendary sopranos as Nellie Melba and Maria Callas. The production is owned by the Grand Théâtre de Genève and is a gift of Mr. and Mrs. Wilmer J. Thomas, Jr.

More Stuff

The current February issue of Opera News has a wonderful review of Jennie's Cenerentola from the Atlanta Opera. I love reviews that include words like "sheer beauty", "exquisite handling", "thrilling" and "triumphant". Sounds right to me. If you can pick up a copy from the newstand, there's a picture from the production along with the review...Sheer beauty.

Update: Opera News Online published the luscious picture of Jennie (and Nicholas Phan) and the author, Stephanie Adrian, is also responsible for the interview in Classical Singer. Great work, Stephanie!

http://www.metoperafamily.org/operanews/review/review.aspx?id=2669

Interview: Jennifer Larmore Reinvented

Classical Singer has a great interview with Jennie. She mentions Atlanta Opera possibly doing Der Rosenvakalier for her, lots of advice for young singers and some fascinating concert projects in the works. Classical Singer always gets some good stuff out of the singers and I find I can even apply what Jennie says to my own humble non-singing existence. Thanks, Jennie for your always positive perspective! Enjoy:

http://www.classicalsinger.com/magazine/article.php?id=1881

Haydn Reloaded

Joseph Haydn has this reputation of having been a harmless and somewhat dull chap who "invented" the string quartet and wrote symphonies with funny names - "The Clock", "The Hen", "Surprise"...and whose music is nice but rather predictable. Two formidable concerts I attended within a few days blew the dust off Haydn's wig and music: the one in Berlin on Jan. 1st, the other in Frankfurt on the 11th. In Berlin René Jacobs conducted a swift and exhilarating "Creation"; I love him and only hold one thing against him - that he doesn't work together with JL anymore! She performed in the other concert I attended at Frankfurt's Alte Oper under the baton of another noted exponent of the HIP movement, Thomas Hengelbrock. His fluent - and never predictable!- conducting of Haydn's symphony No. 53 showed that these days traditional orchestras like the Frankfurter Museumsorchester have learned from HIP and can produce a lighter, more transparent and swinging sound on "conventional" instruments. This work has an overall serene character to which the following dramatic scene "Berenice che fai" posed a stark contrast. Originally written for the soprano Brigida Giorgi Banti who was known for her formidable vocal range the piece is about love, death and desperation in ancient Egypt and was first performed in London in 1795. The composer was rather disappointed with signora B's performance and wrote "she sang but poorly." Well, he would not have said this of JL, I am sure, who although being unwell and suffering from a bad cold, certainly did not sing poorly at all! The reviewer in the "Frankfurter Rundschau" admired her "dramatic intensitiy & fervour", "intelligent and nuanced expression", and "brilliant technique"(duh?!) She would certainly have added more embellishments had she been in better health, but otherwise I can only agree and express the hope that we'll have more riveting performances like these in Haydn's anniversary year!

A Year Without Jennie...

It's been about a year and a half since I last saw Jennifer perform with the Los Angeles Chamber Orchestra. I've somehow managed to get by with great friends and the internet, so there's always good news out there on our favorite mezzo. I was happy to read that Jennifer was listed twice in Opera News' 2008 "Best of" list. Opera Rara's Alessandro nell'Indie was voted one of the best opera recordings and JeLa was listed as a "scene stealer" for her work on Zanetto. I can confirm the latter. She certainly does great work on this little gem of a cd. I wish the soprano was up to par, but Jennie is a treat in this trouser role. I'd love to hear anyone's thoughts on the Pacini set. Opera Rara's other Pacini/Larmore cd, Carlo di Borgogna, is one of their best offerings. Estella is a character Jennie makes come alive. Run out and buy this cd, you will not be disappointed. It's quite clear who is responsible for the current Pacini resurgence.