Well, much to my chagrin, I didn't get to see the Concertgebouw on my trip to Amsterdam a few months ago, but was able to save some face tonight seeing them at the KC Concert Hall, courtesy of WPAS.
The first half was the Sibelius violin concerto with violinist Janine Jansen, and I liked it fine. That said, it was a bit domesticated. I'm listening to the Heifetz/CSO record I have of it now, and there's something sort of desperate and sad that was missing in Maestro Jansson's very beautiful and thoughtful reading. For her part, Jansen brought an exciting hard-edged tone and brilliant skill to the solo. But mostly I think I just wanted more Concertgebouw than the concerto could serve up.
The Rachmaninov Second Symphony after the break did not disappoint. So, maybe Rach Symphony II is not the most cerebral piece. Maybe, like 'Party in the USA', one could accuse it of basically being "all chorus." But as a tour calling card that makes me want to abandon my job and apartment and just go live in the sound the string section makes? Yeah, its pretty freaking good for that purpose. I mean, I'm not a huge Second Symphony connoisseur, but I just can't imagine how one plays the piece better than this. The lyric money lines, which, as mentioned, come like ever 20 bars, were time and again just pure plush brainfreeze gorgeousness.
But not cheap, you know? The Concertgebouw is able to achieve that thing it seems great orchestra string sections are able to with remarkable consistency: that sense that the lines are really 'speaking' as when played by great soloists. Mind you, I've never played in an orchestra, so the whole thing is kind of voodoo magic to me, but I know when an orchestra gets beyond the earthbound "here is the melody we are playing it nice" level and it is a magical, exhilarating sensation. Is it an absolute fidelity to phrasing across players thing? In any event, the Rachmaninov really spoke this evening, in all of its big wet earnest glory.
The encore was cheesy (if impressive). Enough of cheesy orchestra encores. Why can't they roll like pianists and come up with something in the familiar but classy/unexpected favorites vein?
Monday, February 15, 2010
Saturday, February 13, 2010
And now, the Naxos bobsled team...
A: UM
J: yes....?
A: have you ever heard of how in seoul in 2004 when they lit the torch they lit all these doves on fire??
J: no!
A: uh
A: start this video at like 4:30
A: er
A: 4:20
A: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgAXCAWQUic
J: ok waiting for it to load
J: whoa
J: I mean, they had to know that was going to happen
A: koreans are hardcore
A: "yes, pigeons will die...what of it!!!!"
J: do you feel like watching an intense Waltraud Liebestod in extreme close-up?
A: sure i do
J: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvRlZndM70Q
A: lots of people dead in that tristan
A: ah
A: its the guy who did that salome i saw in amsterdam
J: oh...
J: well the rest is just Waltraud in extreme close up
A: ha
A: oh man
A: she kicks so much ass
A: that is the best
J: she really gets into it
A: i want to see her in a production of "Sunset Boulevard"
J: totally!
J: that lead up to and the actual moment of that last huge loud note....amazing
A: and then that funny kind of grimace on the very last note
J: yeah....oh, that note.
A: kind of a dick move on wagner's part
J: Stemme gets it in the one I found online
A: rarg
A: i think i bought tix for somethign else the night of the 20th
A: i may need to bail on it to see her tho
A: are you excited for olympics
J: oh man
J: yes
J: though my figure skating crush did not make the team
A: who is that?
J: http://ryan-bradley.com/photos_podiums.html
A: oh cute
A: dommage
J: dude listen to how perfect this is
J: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xo_9PAnuFmA
J: just from this past fall
A: i want to get into ski + shoot this time
J: oh good one
A: wow
A: that is great
A: she is the real deal yo
J: I mean
J: 2011 we're flying to SF for a full cycle
J: you know she's doing all the Brunnhildes
A: got to be
A: i will totally sit through more Crackerjack Ring for that goodness
J: oh totally
J: I will say though....I wouldn't stress yourself about coming up for the Ariadne
J: she's SO wonderful
J: but
J: the Bacchus BLOWS
J: I went back last night
A: ew
J: and so it ends with a real thud
A: that sux
J: and I think Kathleen Kim is not all that
J: she's fine
J: but def not wonderful
A: that dark flavor in stemme's voice is so killer
A: like, yes, I'll take a little coffee with my cream, thanks
J: I want to hear her whole Isolde so bad
J: yes....?
A: have you ever heard of how in seoul in 2004 when they lit the torch they lit all these doves on fire??
J: no!
A: uh
A: start this video at like 4:30
A: er
A: 4:20
A: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xgAXCAWQUic
J: ok waiting for it to load
J: whoa
J: I mean, they had to know that was going to happen
A: koreans are hardcore
A: "yes, pigeons will die...what of it!!!!"
J: do you feel like watching an intense Waltraud Liebestod in extreme close-up?
A: sure i do
J: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lvRlZndM70Q
A: lots of people dead in that tristan
A: ah
A: its the guy who did that salome i saw in amsterdam
J: oh...
J: well the rest is just Waltraud in extreme close up
A: ha
A: oh man
A: she kicks so much ass
A: that is the best
J: she really gets into it
A: i want to see her in a production of "Sunset Boulevard"
J: totally!
J: that lead up to and the actual moment of that last huge loud note....amazing
A: and then that funny kind of grimace on the very last note
J: yeah....oh, that note.
A: kind of a dick move on wagner's part
J: Stemme gets it in the one I found online
A: rarg
A: i think i bought tix for somethign else the night of the 20th
A: i may need to bail on it to see her tho
A: are you excited for olympics
J: oh man
J: yes
J: though my figure skating crush did not make the team
A: who is that?
J: http://ryan-bradley.com/photos_podiums.html
A: oh cute
A: dommage
J: dude listen to how perfect this is
J: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xo_9PAnuFmA
J: just from this past fall
A: i want to get into ski + shoot this time
J: oh good one
A: wow
A: that is great
A: she is the real deal yo
J: I mean
J: 2011 we're flying to SF for a full cycle
J: you know she's doing all the Brunnhildes
A: got to be
A: i will totally sit through more Crackerjack Ring for that goodness
J: oh totally
J: I will say though....I wouldn't stress yourself about coming up for the Ariadne
J: she's SO wonderful
J: but
J: the Bacchus BLOWS
J: I went back last night
A: ew
J: and so it ends with a real thud
A: that sux
J: and I think Kathleen Kim is not all that
J: she's fine
J: but def not wonderful
A: that dark flavor in stemme's voice is so killer
A: like, yes, I'll take a little coffee with my cream, thanks
J: I want to hear her whole Isolde so bad
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Clothes War-Horses
Rupert Christiansen comments on a column Opera Chic has written about conductors' wardrobes:
That said, while the impact of outfits is questionable, there's clearly a lot going on with appearance where performers' body types are concerned. Whether this is all in programmers'/artistic directors' heads, or whether people are now attending the Met in droves because of all the thin people plastered on bus steps (or is it just increased visibility overall?) is an open question, and has clearly real effects on who we end up seeing on stage.
Offstage, it doesn’t matter what a performer wears; onstage, however, it regrettably does. We are meant to go to a concert to listen rather than look, and ideally how musicians are clothed should have no bearing on the sound they make. But the brute fact is that understated elegance inspires confidence in the performer, while ugly, ill-fitting and garish outfits (still the norm in our concert halls) make one sub-consciously doubt the wearer’s competence. And it matters too in terms of popular preconception and prejudice: a shiny, baggy suit or a Primark evening dress promotes the notion among the trend-conscious young that ‘classical music’ is terribly cheesy and uncool.Really? I mean, it's all well and good to gossip about classical performers' wardrobes--the clothing of rich and classy people is interesting as always. But people not attending classical music because of the sometimes-dumpy dresses? First, anyone who is lukewarm on the whole concept of classical music is probably not paying for seats anywhere near close enough to get a good look at the outfits. Renaay just looks like a big sequin from the cheap seats at Carnegie Hall no matter what she has on. Second, if the performer and the music isn't doing anything for you in the first place, its hard to imagine you'd want to come back for the great outfits. I'm afraid this is another one of those variables that people can have fun thinking and talking about but has no effect whatsoever on the attendance side of the equation.
That said, while the impact of outfits is questionable, there's clearly a lot going on with appearance where performers' body types are concerned. Whether this is all in programmers'/artistic directors' heads, or whether people are now attending the Met in droves because of all the thin people plastered on bus steps (or is it just increased visibility overall?) is an open question, and has clearly real effects on who we end up seeing on stage.
Friday, February 05, 2010
BTW
So, I did see Radu Lupu at Strathmore last week, but it was one of those concerts that is kind of hard to write about because I didn't feel I was really in the proper space to appreciate it. But you know, posterity and all that, so I shall say a few words.
Obviously, Radu Lupu kicks ass. There is that beloved Brahms CD of course, and then I saw his Debussy which was ridiculous. This program was Janacek's In the Mists plus the Appassionata, plus Schubert (the Sonata in A Major) after the half. It was great to hear the Janacek (yay!) live--I seriously don't get why his piano works and those of Poulenc are not programmed more often. But it was nice here.
I found the Appassionata problematic. I would never characterize Lupu's approach as "precious"--"genius of coloring" is more appropriate--but he seems to have sacrificed some of the work's momentum for the sake of pursuing those gorgeous colors. The resulting experience, while fascinating in places, was less than satisfying. But maybe it was just me.
The Schubert suffered a bit from the same syndrome but was much more successful, particularly his spectral reading of the slow movement. And then there was the encore--one of those famous Intermezzi--and all the magic came flooding back. Brahms' chords in Lupu's hands are not assemblages of notes, but single, bottomless sounds. As Alex Ross says in that review--it's as though Lupu's piano is a different instrument entirely...
Obviously, Radu Lupu kicks ass. There is that beloved Brahms CD of course, and then I saw his Debussy which was ridiculous. This program was Janacek's In the Mists plus the Appassionata, plus Schubert (the Sonata in A Major) after the half. It was great to hear the Janacek (yay!) live--I seriously don't get why his piano works and those of Poulenc are not programmed more often. But it was nice here.
I found the Appassionata problematic. I would never characterize Lupu's approach as "precious"--"genius of coloring" is more appropriate--but he seems to have sacrificed some of the work's momentum for the sake of pursuing those gorgeous colors. The resulting experience, while fascinating in places, was less than satisfying. But maybe it was just me.
The Schubert suffered a bit from the same syndrome but was much more successful, particularly his spectral reading of the slow movement. And then there was the encore--one of those famous Intermezzi--and all the magic came flooding back. Brahms' chords in Lupu's hands are not assemblages of notes, but single, bottomless sounds. As Alex Ross says in that review--it's as though Lupu's piano is a different instrument entirely...
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Capuçon-Angelich Trio at the French Embassy
You know how sometimes you go to chamber music and you wonder if you've forgotten how to enjoy it? Well, the snowy Capuçon-Angelich Trio show at the French Embassy tonight was not one of those occasions.
The program was Haydn (the "Hungarian" trio) and Shostakovich (the trio No. 2 in E Minor) before the half and Brahms (the trio in C Major of 1882) to close. I was searching for a word to describe this delightful, disarming Haydn, and the best I could come up with was "plainspoken"--which sounds kind of lame, yes, but there was something so forthright, so honest about the declamation of the piece, if you will, and particularly the violin of Renaud Capuçon. Haydn is so often reduced to the sensitive, but precious--this felt like Haydn had something to say.
The Shostakovich was the highlight of the evening, I think. What to say about this chilling, jaw-dropping, ecstatic performance? This trio understands what it is to imbue a piece with character. That is, they can traverse a fairly wide range of idiosyncratic perspectives without appearing gimmicky. And it is done with so much confidence, so much joy at finding out what makes the music tick and playing to that idea with fearless yet precise abandon, that it does not feel inconsistent. The blistering, desperate Allegro non troppo evoked a sort of dueling banjos suicide pact played by drunken peasants. The Largo was conceptual art--strange and terrifying harmonies floating in space. The finale--Death delighting in a perverse, funky little tune he has invented and getting entirely carried away with it.
As for the Brahms, well, maybe I am too picky about Brahms. The performance here had many very beautiful things and moments of real introspection, and it was miles better than the last Brahms chamber music I heard, the quintet which closed the otherwise stellar Marlboro concert last fall. But for my ear they still fell back too easily on those scourges of Brahms performance: over-emoting and the pervasive mezzo forte. I think to play really successful, interesting Brahms, one must have to go into it playing with restraint, and then double it. There is so much passion, so much heave and sigh in the music already, that anything more strikes a false note. Still very enjoyable and played with commitment, but not as much to savor as in the readings of the Haydn and Shostakovich.
Hope to see more of them in the future...
Update: A positive assessment from Charles Downey is up here...
The program was Haydn (the "Hungarian" trio) and Shostakovich (the trio No. 2 in E Minor) before the half and Brahms (the trio in C Major of 1882) to close. I was searching for a word to describe this delightful, disarming Haydn, and the best I could come up with was "plainspoken"--which sounds kind of lame, yes, but there was something so forthright, so honest about the declamation of the piece, if you will, and particularly the violin of Renaud Capuçon. Haydn is so often reduced to the sensitive, but precious--this felt like Haydn had something to say.
The Shostakovich was the highlight of the evening, I think. What to say about this chilling, jaw-dropping, ecstatic performance? This trio understands what it is to imbue a piece with character. That is, they can traverse a fairly wide range of idiosyncratic perspectives without appearing gimmicky. And it is done with so much confidence, so much joy at finding out what makes the music tick and playing to that idea with fearless yet precise abandon, that it does not feel inconsistent. The blistering, desperate Allegro non troppo evoked a sort of dueling banjos suicide pact played by drunken peasants. The Largo was conceptual art--strange and terrifying harmonies floating in space. The finale--Death delighting in a perverse, funky little tune he has invented and getting entirely carried away with it.
As for the Brahms, well, maybe I am too picky about Brahms. The performance here had many very beautiful things and moments of real introspection, and it was miles better than the last Brahms chamber music I heard, the quintet which closed the otherwise stellar Marlboro concert last fall. But for my ear they still fell back too easily on those scourges of Brahms performance: over-emoting and the pervasive mezzo forte. I think to play really successful, interesting Brahms, one must have to go into it playing with restraint, and then double it. There is so much passion, so much heave and sigh in the music already, that anything more strikes a false note. Still very enjoyable and played with commitment, but not as much to savor as in the readings of the Haydn and Shostakovich.
Hope to see more of them in the future...
Update: A positive assessment from Charles Downey is up here...
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
#sotu watch party w/ @lillaspastia
A: dude
A: what is wrong with John Edwards
J: what happened??
J: I missed it
A: just the sex tape thing from the other day
J: did the sex tape come out?
A: no
J: well we knew he was spreading his change juice all over the place
J: I missed the SOTU for Carmen
J: I think it's a good thing. It would have given me a heart attack
A: get a close up when i change on your tits, rielle
J: haha
A: i missed it for a piano recital
A: sounds like it went ok
A: but also sort of glad i didn't watch
A: how wuz carmen?
J: In a new book, a former aide claims that Edwards asked him to fake a paternity test and steal one of the baby's diapers to perform a DNA test on its poop.
J: I mean
J: WHAT is going on with him
J: Carmen was really fun
A: like, he is CRAZY
J: it was Jovanovich' debut
A: that is a CRAZY person that was running for pres
J: I know! and I voted for him once!
A: how is it that he was banging this chick and stealing poo and no one ever leaked it?
A: that is disturbing
A: i read something one time by some journalist about how they were creeped out by edwards
A: that like, every candidate they ever interviewed had an "off" switch where they would stop being in their candidate character and just be a normal person with you
A: but like, they had never seen Edwards in off mode
J: weird
J: so this Carmen is so much less awful than the old one
A: oh swell
J: and Borodina was out and it was this got chick
J: hot
A: that old one was death
A: garanca?
J: and Jovan Muskovich is way hot and was emoting all over the place. and she was acting like a TOTAL SLUT
J: it was awesome
A: haha excellent
J: no, Garanca's run is over and tonight was supposed to be the first night of Borodina
J: but she was out and it was some gal named Viktoria Vizin
J: http://www.viktoriavizin.com/High_Resolution_Photos.html#8
J: and her singing was good. Her voice was a little small but she basically brought it and just REALLY ACTED LIKE A WHORE
J: and he was all on top of her and feeling up her dress all the way up to her ass and verging into crotch
J: and all the Russians who came to see Borodina were like "ach!" and turning their heads
A: haha
A: damn
J: and they put that nice gay Kwiecien in this tight matador outfit but it was clear he maybe had more of a crush on Jovanovich than on Carmen
J: and it was also the met debut of this really young french composer
J: and he took all the dances really fast and had floppy hair and was bouncing up and down
A: that's a good subtext for carmen
J: totally
A: escamillo really steals her just to make don jose jealous
J: but he loved his pretty glittery matador outfit
J: yeah there's total opportunity during the knife fight music for erotic tension
J: that would be such a great deconstructionist Carmen!!!
A: oh man
A: c'mon europe
J: and then Don Jose kills her to be with Escamillo
A: yeah
A: and then then he runs in and they kind of make out before the bullfighting police or whatever take him away
A: and scene
J: so good
A: with like, extreme red spotlight center stage
J: and all the outfits could be leathery
and Michaela should DEF be like a fat fag hag
A: ha totally
J: and he sort of goes with Carmen cause she's so fierce
A: "hey don jose...does this dress make me look fat? Don jose I really need yoru opinion here"
J: haha
A: "Mais oui, tu est une vache"
J: Michaela is all trying to dance with a rose in her mouth but she's like Camryn Manheim fat
J: haha
A: "Vache totale"
A: where is that opera suggestion box when you need it
A: i think i heard an interview with that conductor
A: it was cute
J: he was tres adorable
A: what is wrong with John Edwards
J: what happened??
J: I missed it
A: just the sex tape thing from the other day
J: did the sex tape come out?
A: no
J: well we knew he was spreading his change juice all over the place
J: I missed the SOTU for Carmen
J: I think it's a good thing. It would have given me a heart attack
A: get a close up when i change on your tits, rielle
J: haha
A: i missed it for a piano recital
A: sounds like it went ok
A: but also sort of glad i didn't watch
A: how wuz carmen?
J: In a new book, a former aide claims that Edwards asked him to fake a paternity test and steal one of the baby's diapers to perform a DNA test on its poop.
J: I mean
J: WHAT is going on with him
J: Carmen was really fun
A: like, he is CRAZY
J: it was Jovanovich' debut
A: that is a CRAZY person that was running for pres
J: I know! and I voted for him once!
A: how is it that he was banging this chick and stealing poo and no one ever leaked it?
A: that is disturbing
A: i read something one time by some journalist about how they were creeped out by edwards
A: that like, every candidate they ever interviewed had an "off" switch where they would stop being in their candidate character and just be a normal person with you
A: but like, they had never seen Edwards in off mode
J: weird
J: so this Carmen is so much less awful than the old one
A: oh swell
J: and Borodina was out and it was this got chick
J: hot
A: that old one was death
A: garanca?
J: and Jovan Muskovich is way hot and was emoting all over the place. and she was acting like a TOTAL SLUT
J: it was awesome
A: haha excellent
J: no, Garanca's run is over and tonight was supposed to be the first night of Borodina
J: but she was out and it was some gal named Viktoria Vizin
J: http://www.viktoriavizin.com/High_Resolution_Photos.html#8
J: and her singing was good. Her voice was a little small but she basically brought it and just REALLY ACTED LIKE A WHORE
J: and he was all on top of her and feeling up her dress all the way up to her ass and verging into crotch
J: and all the Russians who came to see Borodina were like "ach!" and turning their heads
A: haha
A: damn
J: and they put that nice gay Kwiecien in this tight matador outfit but it was clear he maybe had more of a crush on Jovanovich than on Carmen
J: and it was also the met debut of this really young french composer
J: and he took all the dances really fast and had floppy hair and was bouncing up and down
A: that's a good subtext for carmen
J: totally
A: escamillo really steals her just to make don jose jealous
J: but he loved his pretty glittery matador outfit
J: yeah there's total opportunity during the knife fight music for erotic tension
J: that would be such a great deconstructionist Carmen!!!
A: oh man
A: c'mon europe
J: and then Don Jose kills her to be with Escamillo
A: yeah
A: and then then he runs in and they kind of make out before the bullfighting police or whatever take him away
A: and scene
J: so good
A: with like, extreme red spotlight center stage
J: and all the outfits could be leathery
and Michaela should DEF be like a fat fag hag
A: ha totally
J: and he sort of goes with Carmen cause she's so fierce
A: "hey don jose...does this dress make me look fat? Don jose I really need yoru opinion here"
J: haha
A: "Mais oui, tu est une vache"
J: Michaela is all trying to dance with a rose in her mouth but she's like Camryn Manheim fat
J: haha
A: "Vache totale"
A: where is that opera suggestion box when you need it
A: i think i heard an interview with that conductor
A: it was cute
J: he was tres adorable
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
WNO Announces
A: um, did you see that SF Opera is importing the Washignton ring wholesale?
J: it was always a co-production
J: they partially financed it
A: oh
A: i missed that
A: i thought maybe they saw it first and then decided to get in on it
A: i guess they are going to do the gotterdammerung now
A: maybe they can send it back to DC after
J: yeah what is the fucking deal
J: is DC just not going to do the cycle?
A: i mean
A: none of it is on the sched for next year
A: i guess maybe they missed their window
A: nice that that dumb production will dominate ring performances in two cities for god knows how long
A: i mean, i was more ok with the walkure and siegfried, but I don't want to like see them again or anything
A: people should start referring to it as "The Discount Ring"
J: it really is
J: Zales' Ring
J: Der Ring des Claire's Accessories
J: wait is DCs season up already for next year?
A: yeah
J: !
A: it is little
A: do you see the randoms in that Voigt Salome?
J: oh that's not a bad seasons though
A: yeah
A: i would see all of that except the DQ
A: er
A: DP
J: Pat racette Iphigenie is interesting
A: yeah totally
A: i like that
A: and doesn't look like the met/seattle or the lyric/danish productions
A: what are the chances one sees 3 different iphegenie productions in 3 years
A: Uh, did you also see "Dramatic soprano Deborah Voigt, the definitive Salome of her generation..."
J: heh
J: um
J: some bitches may beg to differ
J: it was always a co-production
J: they partially financed it
A: oh
A: i missed that
A: i thought maybe they saw it first and then decided to get in on it
A: i guess they are going to do the gotterdammerung now
A: maybe they can send it back to DC after
J: yeah what is the fucking deal
J: is DC just not going to do the cycle?
A: i mean
A: none of it is on the sched for next year
A: i guess maybe they missed their window
A: nice that that dumb production will dominate ring performances in two cities for god knows how long
A: i mean, i was more ok with the walkure and siegfried, but I don't want to like see them again or anything
A: people should start referring to it as "The Discount Ring"
J: it really is
J: Zales' Ring
J: Der Ring des Claire's Accessories
J: wait is DCs season up already for next year?
A: yeah
J: !
A: it is little
A: do you see the randoms in that Voigt Salome?
J: oh that's not a bad seasons though
A: yeah
A: i would see all of that except the DQ
A: er
A: DP
J: Pat racette Iphigenie is interesting
A: yeah totally
A: i like that
A: and doesn't look like the met/seattle or the lyric/danish productions
A: what are the chances one sees 3 different iphegenie productions in 3 years
A: Uh, did you also see "Dramatic soprano Deborah Voigt, the definitive Salome of her generation..."
J: heh
J: um
J: some bitches may beg to differ
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Smyooth Myusic
A: how was elektra, yo???
J: oh it was good
J: Bullock was good but not hottt
J: Voigt kinda summoned fat voigt!
J: which is a good thing
A: oh word??
J: she sounded way way better
A: nice
J: I thought G--- was going to die
A: "I call on thee, spirit of fat voigt, rise now..."
J: hah
A: die how?
J: just with general elektra excitement
A: kewl
A: his review is great
J: it's really fun
A: hmmm
A: how wuz felicity palmer
J: she's really great
A: i think i have to do the 22nd or the 29th
J: if you do the 29th I'll go with you
J: I fly to chicago in the morn for Kitty Kabs
A: indeed!
A: that is exciting
A: its really an amazing role for her
A: more complex than jenufa is in a way
J: yeah I'm way excited
A: where are you sitting
J: in the $136 orch seats. row HH.
J: basically the Carmelites seats
A: right
A: worth it
J: oh it was good
J: Bullock was good but not hottt
J: Voigt kinda summoned fat voigt!
J: which is a good thing
A: oh word??
J: she sounded way way better
A: nice
J: I thought G--- was going to die
A: "I call on thee, spirit of fat voigt, rise now..."
J: hah
A: die how?
J: just with general elektra excitement
A: kewl
A: his review is great
J: it's really fun
A: hmmm
A: how wuz felicity palmer
J: she's really great
A: i think i have to do the 22nd or the 29th
J: if you do the 29th I'll go with you
J: I fly to chicago in the morn for Kitty Kabs
A: indeed!
A: that is exciting
A: its really an amazing role for her
A: more complex than jenufa is in a way
J: yeah I'm way excited
A: where are you sitting
J: in the $136 orch seats. row HH.
J: basically the Carmelites seats
A: right
A: worth it
As You Don't Like It
So, I saw some things in the past week, starting with From the House of the Dead and, um, Hair, in New York last Saturday, and concluding with As You Like It at the Shakespeare Theatre Company here on Wednesday. While the latter two are somewhat off topic, I shall start with them first for reasons of relevance (lord knows when FTHOTD is coming back) and ease of review writing.
In the case of "As You Like It", this is owing to the incredible and vast suckage of this production. Now, I want to be clear that this really doesn't reflect on anyone in the truly excellent cast, which was filled with a great assortment of committed and skilled actors. No, this is exclusively a case of directorial misconduct in pursuit of the cheap laff.
The opening scene of this "As You Like It" involves a sort of faux old movie gimmick, which was somewhat inexplicable, but quickly forgotten. The first 40-50 minutes of the production is cast in a Puritan milieu, which is a perfectly good, neutral historical period for Shakespeare. The production is spare, but handsome, and we are clearly dealing with a set of actors committed to the task of inhabiting these mercurial characters and delivering Shakespeare's words with insight and passion.
And then, the characters flee to the forest to escape their various fates, and the whole thing becomes an opportunity for the Shakespeare Theatre Company to demonstrate how much worthless bang they can give you for your buck. Under the rubric of "escape to the forest" being synonymous with an "escape to the uncharted land of historic America", this production casts each successive set of scenes in a different period of American history. So for 15 minutes they are in the Civil War era South and they are all doing Gone with the Wind accents. Then they are all cowboys. Then they are on a steamboat. Then they are all silent movie actors. Any of the actual "drama" constructed during the first forty minutes is flushed right down the toilet in the service of this absurd gimmick that allows them to put the characters in different silly costumes and make them speak in different silly voices that elicits kneejerk laughter from the audience. This isn't a play. This is dress-up.
In the past year or so that I've been going to Shakespeare Theatre Company's productions, I have often been highly impressed. Their Twelfth Night, Dog in a Manger, and Ion last season were inventive, playful, and honest interpretations of classics that earned whatever gimmicks they indulged in. But this production, and the wretched production of "The Alchemist" I suffered through earlier this fall were both pure chicanery. Shakespeare Theatre Company, please stop this madness and start acting like you trust your audience to appreciate the classics on their own terms and not as vehicles for cheap and vulgar sitcom caricatures. Productions like this are an embarrassment.
Phew. OK. Hair and FTHOTD thoughts coming soon.
In the case of "As You Like It", this is owing to the incredible and vast suckage of this production. Now, I want to be clear that this really doesn't reflect on anyone in the truly excellent cast, which was filled with a great assortment of committed and skilled actors. No, this is exclusively a case of directorial misconduct in pursuit of the cheap laff.
The opening scene of this "As You Like It" involves a sort of faux old movie gimmick, which was somewhat inexplicable, but quickly forgotten. The first 40-50 minutes of the production is cast in a Puritan milieu, which is a perfectly good, neutral historical period for Shakespeare. The production is spare, but handsome, and we are clearly dealing with a set of actors committed to the task of inhabiting these mercurial characters and delivering Shakespeare's words with insight and passion.
And then, the characters flee to the forest to escape their various fates, and the whole thing becomes an opportunity for the Shakespeare Theatre Company to demonstrate how much worthless bang they can give you for your buck. Under the rubric of "escape to the forest" being synonymous with an "escape to the uncharted land of historic America", this production casts each successive set of scenes in a different period of American history. So for 15 minutes they are in the Civil War era South and they are all doing Gone with the Wind accents. Then they are all cowboys. Then they are on a steamboat. Then they are all silent movie actors. Any of the actual "drama" constructed during the first forty minutes is flushed right down the toilet in the service of this absurd gimmick that allows them to put the characters in different silly costumes and make them speak in different silly voices that elicits kneejerk laughter from the audience. This isn't a play. This is dress-up.
In the past year or so that I've been going to Shakespeare Theatre Company's productions, I have often been highly impressed. Their Twelfth Night, Dog in a Manger, and Ion last season were inventive, playful, and honest interpretations of classics that earned whatever gimmicks they indulged in. But this production, and the wretched production of "The Alchemist" I suffered through earlier this fall were both pure chicanery. Shakespeare Theatre Company, please stop this madness and start acting like you trust your audience to appreciate the classics on their own terms and not as vehicles for cheap and vulgar sitcom caricatures. Productions like this are an embarrassment.
Phew. OK. Hair and FTHOTD thoughts coming soon.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
Friday, December 04, 2009
Strauss in Amsterdam
So, about that Dutch Salome...Parterre has a clip, natch.
First things first: Opera of the Netherlands is housed in the Het Muziektheatre, a modern hall at the southern end of the city's old town. I got a very nice seat on the fringe of the orchestra for less than the price of the Met balcony, tho I think it might have been partial view for the supertitles (surprisingly only in Dutch, since it seems pretty clear that language has about 50 years tops before everyone gives up the ghost and starts speaking English.) Audience (for a Sunday matinee) was probably a notch more hip than your usual Met or Lyric audience, like the usual oldsters plus the monied end of the BAM crowd.
Anyhow. The Salome on view is a fascinating production by Peter Konwitschny, a high practitioner of the sorts of things we apparently will NEVER be able to handle here. Here's a bit of an interview with him.
In Konwitschny's concept, Jochanaan is never down a cistern, but rather a guest at Herod's dinner party of debauched gangsters--something like the last supper of the Patriarchy. While he is clearly conflicted, he is really no more than another face of the male power structure which keeps the other women in the play--Salome, Herodias, and the Page--in a constant state of fear/degradation. Konwitschny makes explicit a dynamic which Strauss and his libretto strongly suggest--it is after all, at base, a tragedy about Salome's innocence, regardless of how much depravity one finds in her, and we can't help but sympathize with her against Jochanaan. Here, we are led to understand his cruelty as part of the same sick universe in which female sexuality is both a commodity to be abused as well as a dangerous threat to the status quo.
As Konwitschny begins to engage in deeper subversions of the superficial action-- Herod executes Narraboth, and Jochanaan uses his death as a chance to appeal, in vain, to the better nature of the other guests--he introduces a distinction between the play as it is being performed, and a sort of transgressive space outside the play which he uses to posit an 'alternate' conclusion.
After a frenzied dance of the Seven Veils which includes the entire cast trying desperately to escape the play and then (I think) slaughtering each other, Salome receives Jochanaan's head as usual--but then hands it over to him so he can think about what he's done. The dining room set begins to recede from the proscenium and he is left alone with Salome on an empty stage, confused and lost. Through this violent reversal, Salome has saved him, wresting him from a his sick institutions, and facing him as an equal. Removed from the brutal machinery of the play, they acknowledge their love for each other, and run off together. And in a way, isn't that how it really ends? With ecstasy and rebirth and the overwhelming joy of finally understanding?
Now, mind you, the subtext was flying pretty fast, and I was working from memory of the libretto, so this really just scratches the surface of the richness of Konwisthny's conception.
At the same time, one must point out the inherent failings in such an enterprise. While I really was quite intrigued and sort of touched by the ending, there was nary a shred of that overwhelming emotional experience that non-bizarro universe Salome is designed to produce. There was also a lot of gratuitous regie bullshit--Narraboth's corpse getting sodomized by everyone onstage, Salome helping Herod do heroin, an extra gory Jochanaan head with bonus shoulder still attached (actually, I kind of liked that), etc.--which came off as the usual finger to the audience that tends to sour one on an otherwise very interesting and nuanced project. (To their credit, a few courageous Dutch patrons did send that gang-rape a little boo.)
Annalena Persson was a so-so Salome. Vocally capable enough but not much going on in the sumptuousness department. I kind of think she may be a pretty great actress, though it is hard to tell, when you're ready to judge a SALOME and instead you get a KONZEPT. She, uh, was really convincing when she reversed that male gaze, I guess? That said, girl was game for ANYTHING, so credit is due there.
Primary vocal honors went to Albert Dohmen's rich, magnificent Jochanaan. None of that shouty business that plagues so many of them, but instead a warm commanding tone that brought out many of beauties of the part that you know are in there but don't necessarily get a chance to appreciate in performance. Dohmen also really got the characterization Konwitschny seemed to be going for here, bringing many human touches to Jochanaan's initial weary resignation, tortured questioning, and final revelation--i.e., that him and Salome should totally get married and have babies.
Additional shout-outs to another great Narraboth by Marcel Reijans (of all the challenges of the opera world in 2009, not enough good Narraboths sure isn't one of them, is it), and a Herodias (Doris Soffel) who made more effort than most to sing through the shrieking, to nice effect.
First things first: Opera of the Netherlands is housed in the Het Muziektheatre, a modern hall at the southern end of the city's old town. I got a very nice seat on the fringe of the orchestra for less than the price of the Met balcony, tho I think it might have been partial view for the supertitles (surprisingly only in Dutch, since it seems pretty clear that language has about 50 years tops before everyone gives up the ghost and starts speaking English.) Audience (for a Sunday matinee) was probably a notch more hip than your usual Met or Lyric audience, like the usual oldsters plus the monied end of the BAM crowd.
Anyhow. The Salome on view is a fascinating production by Peter Konwitschny, a high practitioner of the sorts of things we apparently will NEVER be able to handle here. Here's a bit of an interview with him.
In Konwitschny's concept, Jochanaan is never down a cistern, but rather a guest at Herod's dinner party of debauched gangsters--something like the last supper of the Patriarchy. While he is clearly conflicted, he is really no more than another face of the male power structure which keeps the other women in the play--Salome, Herodias, and the Page--in a constant state of fear/degradation. Konwitschny makes explicit a dynamic which Strauss and his libretto strongly suggest--it is after all, at base, a tragedy about Salome's innocence, regardless of how much depravity one finds in her, and we can't help but sympathize with her against Jochanaan. Here, we are led to understand his cruelty as part of the same sick universe in which female sexuality is both a commodity to be abused as well as a dangerous threat to the status quo.
As Konwitschny begins to engage in deeper subversions of the superficial action-- Herod executes Narraboth, and Jochanaan uses his death as a chance to appeal, in vain, to the better nature of the other guests--he introduces a distinction between the play as it is being performed, and a sort of transgressive space outside the play which he uses to posit an 'alternate' conclusion.
After a frenzied dance of the Seven Veils which includes the entire cast trying desperately to escape the play and then (I think) slaughtering each other, Salome receives Jochanaan's head as usual--but then hands it over to him so he can think about what he's done. The dining room set begins to recede from the proscenium and he is left alone with Salome on an empty stage, confused and lost. Through this violent reversal, Salome has saved him, wresting him from a his sick institutions, and facing him as an equal. Removed from the brutal machinery of the play, they acknowledge their love for each other, and run off together. And in a way, isn't that how it really ends? With ecstasy and rebirth and the overwhelming joy of finally understanding?
Now, mind you, the subtext was flying pretty fast, and I was working from memory of the libretto, so this really just scratches the surface of the richness of Konwisthny's conception.
At the same time, one must point out the inherent failings in such an enterprise. While I really was quite intrigued and sort of touched by the ending, there was nary a shred of that overwhelming emotional experience that non-bizarro universe Salome is designed to produce. There was also a lot of gratuitous regie bullshit--Narraboth's corpse getting sodomized by everyone onstage, Salome helping Herod do heroin, an extra gory Jochanaan head with bonus shoulder still attached (actually, I kind of liked that), etc.--which came off as the usual finger to the audience that tends to sour one on an otherwise very interesting and nuanced project. (To their credit, a few courageous Dutch patrons did send that gang-rape a little boo.)
Annalena Persson was a so-so Salome. Vocally capable enough but not much going on in the sumptuousness department. I kind of think she may be a pretty great actress, though it is hard to tell, when you're ready to judge a SALOME and instead you get a KONZEPT. She, uh, was really convincing when she reversed that male gaze, I guess? That said, girl was game for ANYTHING, so credit is due there.
Primary vocal honors went to Albert Dohmen's rich, magnificent Jochanaan. None of that shouty business that plagues so many of them, but instead a warm commanding tone that brought out many of beauties of the part that you know are in there but don't necessarily get a chance to appreciate in performance. Dohmen also really got the characterization Konwitschny seemed to be going for here, bringing many human touches to Jochanaan's initial weary resignation, tortured questioning, and final revelation--i.e., that him and Salome should totally get married and have babies.
Additional shout-outs to another great Narraboth by Marcel Reijans (of all the challenges of the opera world in 2009, not enough good Narraboths sure isn't one of them, is it), and a Herodias (Doris Soffel) who made more effort than most to sing through the shrieking, to nice effect.
Monday, November 30, 2009
Janáček in Chicago
Hey y'all. Back from Chicago, where I stopped home for Thanksgiving after five days in Amsterdam for a friend's birthday. More on the regietastic Salome I saw at the Nederlandse Opera later--for now, some thoughts on Lyric's current production of Káťa Kabanová, which I saw Saturday...
Káťa Kabanová has a lot in common with the more popular Jenůfa--nice but flawed girl vs. provincial assholes in two-bit town--though it is decidedly the less 'feel-good' of the two. That said, the heroines are really quite different. Where Jenůfa is simple and naive, a creature of the village who, through hardship, reveals great moral depths within herself, Káťa is doomed to never reconcile herself to the hypocrisy and deceit of the village. She is cursed with an artistic soul in a universe devoid of true and pure sentiment, and it destroys her.
The fit of Karita Mattila's voice to the music of these two characters is surely one of the more exquisite things one can experience in an opera house right now. In Káťa's long monologue in the first act, telling of the cherished internal life being crushed under the heel of her married life, Mattila creates moments of such jaw dropping beauty and intensity you almost can't believe your ears. Mattila's Káťa is a woman driven to frenzy by a problem she can't figure out--how she can live, and be expected to live, in the world without any real feeling. Mattila draws you deep into Káťa's terrible dilemma, her voice pealing out of the nervous mass of Janáček's score to reflect the sunlight for a moment before it is consumed again. Chicago people: four shows left. No excuses.
Mattila was well paired with the very exciting Brandon Jovanovich as Boris. I've never seen him before, but looked up him up after Will mentioned him in comments the other week, and was pleased to hear him fulfill all the promises of those youtube videos. Warm and passionate voice and way loud. Can't wait for more of him.
Supporting cast is uniformly strong--can't get quite as excited about the Kabanicha as the Kostelnicka, but Judith Forst was shrill and suffocating and all that good stuff. Special props to the rich-voiced Tichon of Jason Collins.
Great work in the pit from the Lyric orchestra and conductor Markus Stenz--if Jenůfa is more lyrical, the KK score evokes a more varied landscape for its play, at times sensuous, weary, and cruel, and packed with fascinating detail. The production, an early 90s show from the Met, is basically on target. The sorta faux hinted perspective thing with little buildings at the back of a severely raked stage looks like crap from the balcony, but it provides the kind of simple, neutral platform on which Janáček seems to work best, so fine.
Káťa Kabanová has a lot in common with the more popular Jenůfa--nice but flawed girl vs. provincial assholes in two-bit town--though it is decidedly the less 'feel-good' of the two. That said, the heroines are really quite different. Where Jenůfa is simple and naive, a creature of the village who, through hardship, reveals great moral depths within herself, Káťa is doomed to never reconcile herself to the hypocrisy and deceit of the village. She is cursed with an artistic soul in a universe devoid of true and pure sentiment, and it destroys her.
The fit of Karita Mattila's voice to the music of these two characters is surely one of the more exquisite things one can experience in an opera house right now. In Káťa's long monologue in the first act, telling of the cherished internal life being crushed under the heel of her married life, Mattila creates moments of such jaw dropping beauty and intensity you almost can't believe your ears. Mattila's Káťa is a woman driven to frenzy by a problem she can't figure out--how she can live, and be expected to live, in the world without any real feeling. Mattila draws you deep into Káťa's terrible dilemma, her voice pealing out of the nervous mass of Janáček's score to reflect the sunlight for a moment before it is consumed again. Chicago people: four shows left. No excuses.
Mattila was well paired with the very exciting Brandon Jovanovich as Boris. I've never seen him before, but looked up him up after Will mentioned him in comments the other week, and was pleased to hear him fulfill all the promises of those youtube videos. Warm and passionate voice and way loud. Can't wait for more of him.
Supporting cast is uniformly strong--can't get quite as excited about the Kabanicha as the Kostelnicka, but Judith Forst was shrill and suffocating and all that good stuff. Special props to the rich-voiced Tichon of Jason Collins.
Great work in the pit from the Lyric orchestra and conductor Markus Stenz--if Jenůfa is more lyrical, the KK score evokes a more varied landscape for its play, at times sensuous, weary, and cruel, and packed with fascinating detail. The production, an early 90s show from the Met, is basically on target. The sorta faux hinted perspective thing with little buildings at the back of a severely raked stage looks like crap from the balcony, but it provides the kind of simple, neutral platform on which Janáček seems to work best, so fine.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Hey! (hey) You! (you) Get into my schiff...
Well, I was really hoping to get back to the WNO Ariadne for the last perf on Friday, but hateful office things intervened, and I didna make it. But in the interest of completeness, my thoughts on the one I did attend, a few weeks back:So, as reported elsewhere, this production had its flaws, but I was really in love with both cast and production by the end of the evening. Maybe I'm starving for Strauss, or maybe I just wanted WNO to have a hit (after the allegedly lame Falstaff and lame-fest Barbiere), but blemishes and all I had a much better time than the last time I saw Ariadne.
For Ariadne to work as a play, it seems, it really needs to be legitimately funny. That doesn't mean you can't enjoy a production that gives short shrift to the humor--its short enough and the music is real purdy after all. But the true dramatic effect doesn't click unless, like the Mozart comedies, the deep abiding humanity of the piece flows directly from the atmosphere created by the farce--it has to feel like a truth revealing itself amidst the simpler pleasures of life. This WNO production (originally from Seattle) does a tremendous job of not taking itself too seriously, and letting those simpler pleasures do their part.
This was partially the work of the production which, while not terribly handsome (e.g. Kristine Jepson is rewarded for her wonderful Komponist with a hideous ill-fitting suit and Stuart Smalley wig) has great direction in the comedy elements and some effective conceits (e.g. the audience on stage during the Opera).
Irene Theorin (seen as Brunnhilde in Walkure at the Met and Siegfried at WNO last year, and in the "Gotterdammerung without the Rhine" here the past two weeks) was a compelling Ariadne--the woman has a ginormous voice, especially in the relatively puny Kennedy Center Opera House. Yes, the volume was fairly subdued well into Act II as some reviews have pointed out, only finally breaking out on the soaring patches of "Es Gibt ein Reich", but it seemed like a clear choice to me, and an effective one at that. Maybe she's not an ideal Ariadne who can bring the cream at all times, but she was committed and funny and all the beauties of the role were in place.
As noted above, Kristine Jepson was a marvelous Komponist, and certainly the best cast in the show, as this is one of her specialties. Her sound is rich and passionate and the reading very intelligent, really everything you could want in the role. Susan Graham: you're great, and I'mma let you finish your career, but you're going to need to relinquish this at the Met at some point. And when you do, Jepson is going to be all over that shiz.
Lyubov Petrova turned in a way enjoyable Zerbinetta. So the voice doesn't really approach the Battle/Dessay standard for prettiness in the part. It DOES sound effortless and exciting, and, as I mentioned after the lackluster Covent Garden Zerbinetta of Gillian Keith, if "Grossmachtige..." doesn't sound effortless then what's the freaking point? Petrova worked it to within an inch of its life, in a good way.
As appears to be the misfortune of the run, unemployed Siegfried #1, Par Lindskog, bailed on the show. Revealing once again WNO's dicey understudy program (everyone remember pantomime Siegfried?) the replacement Bacchus, Corey Evan Rotz, was bumped up from Scaramuccio. This was clearly a bit of a stretch, but Rotz kept the show going, made some nice sounds if within a limited range, and, thankfully, chose his battles carefully in the last 10 minutes. And really, 10 minutes of dicey Bacchus was not nearly enough to torpedo such a winning production.
WNO? More like this, please.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Musicians from Marlboro at the Freer Gallery
Musicians from the Marlboro festival (to which we make plans to go every summer after longingly looking at their website in a cold winter month and then never make good on it...check out their website, it is some serious summer classical music festival porn, no?) offered a program Thursday at the Freer Gallery. The first half was a Mozart flute quartet plus three 20th century works. The second half was Brahms' piano quartet in C minor.
The Mozart that opened the program was a bit of a revelation for one who A) is used to being underwhelmed by Mozart chamber music in concert and B) hates the flute. This was not your standard pretty-melodies-layered-over-the-metronome-beat Mozart playing. There was a great sense of tempo, far more malleable and alive than one expects in this music. Moreover, there was something in the sound that felt entirely "classical"--while unmistakably more evolved than say, Telemann, there wasn't a hint of overweening romantic excess for the sake of excess. All in all, a really unique and committed reading.
The following trio of 20th century works was the heart of the evening. The first, "Mirrors" by Kaija Saariaho, was the furthest afield, featuring the decidedly creepy effect of flautist Joshua Smith whispering phrases in French over the half wuffled half played flute line. But there's no denying the foggy, tortured combination of flute and cello textures was compelling. The second piece, by Toru Takemitsu, most evoked the Debussy reference Smith made in his introduction to the three pieces, pairing a sensuous, damaged viola solo over neat jazzy chords in the piano.
And then to close the circle, violinist Soovin Kim played the Louange de l'Immortalite de Jesus from Messaien's Quartet for the End of Time, which was, to use a word, transcendent. I don't really know how violins work, but Soovin was able to coax this remarkable, immaculately pure sound from his instrument, extremely fine and with virtually no vibrato. That sound, modified only ever so slightly to be more expressive as the violin's line develops further, was the perfect vehicle for the pure white light of Messaien's work. The audience was ecstatic.
I was less enamored of the Brahms which made up the second half. Brahms seems to me most alive when played as great prose--this was more like abstract art, or perhaps an action movie. They seemed desperate to find something viscerally thrilling in the quartet rather than letting it speak for itself. The dynamics were too extreme, and the momentum of the piece nearly ground to a halt between sections, forfeiting the great structural forces which make Brahms so rewarding. Mind you, the violent dynamics weren't savage--everything sounded very wonderful, it just failed to add up to much of a coherent whole. The exception was the gentle Andante, which would tolerate none of the agenda imposed on the other movements and was quite exquisite.
Friday, November 13, 2009
Totenhaus!
A: was house of the dead tonight?
J: yes!
J: it was great
A: neat
A: i don't know it at all
J: it's really neat
A: kewl
A: um...what is the deal with this opera "The Excursions of Mr. Brouček to the Moon and to the 15th Century"
A: "Some critics have also pointed out that the moon excursion has a basic flaw in the plot: there is no real “hero” to balance out Brouček, who is the “villain” on the moon."
J: HAH!
A: one can see how that might be problematic
J: Yeah I feel like
J: Janacek wrote Jenufa and Kata Kabanova
J: which are awesome
J: and From the House of the Dead, which is harder to love musically but very very cool and exciting
J: and then like really fucking random shit
J: like OSUD
J: and SARKA
J: and the Manipulative Little Bitch
A: of course, the Loco Tiny Ho
J: hah
A: you've listened to Sarka right?
J: yeah it's nice
J: but too short to perform maybe
A: maybe they could double bill it with Cavallierra Rusticana sometimes
A: call it Cav-Sark
A: for short
J: such a good idea
A: but maybe announce it as a last minute change
J: or a double bill of OSUD and Bluebeard's Castle
J: oh I forgot about Vec Makropulous
A: right
J: that can be done on its own
J: and Bonkers Wee Slut is long enough to do on its own, but all the characters are fucking animals
A: is that opera for children or what?
J: not specifically
A: nice comments about it on parterre
J: yes!
J: it was great
A: neat
A: i don't know it at all
J: it's really neat
A: kewl
A: um...what is the deal with this opera "The Excursions of Mr. Brouček to the Moon and to the 15th Century"
A: "Some critics have also pointed out that the moon excursion has a basic flaw in the plot: there is no real “hero” to balance out Brouček, who is the “villain” on the moon."
J: HAH!
A: one can see how that might be problematic
J: Yeah I feel like
J: Janacek wrote Jenufa and Kata Kabanova
J: which are awesome
J: and From the House of the Dead, which is harder to love musically but very very cool and exciting
J: and then like really fucking random shit
J: like OSUD
J: and SARKA
J: and the Manipulative Little Bitch
A: of course, the Loco Tiny Ho
J: hah
A: you've listened to Sarka right?
J: yeah it's nice
J: but too short to perform maybe
A: maybe they could double bill it with Cavallierra Rusticana sometimes
A: call it Cav-Sark
A: for short
J: such a good idea
A: but maybe announce it as a last minute change
J: or a double bill of OSUD and Bluebeard's Castle
J: oh I forgot about Vec Makropulous
A: right
J: that can be done on its own
J: and Bonkers Wee Slut is long enough to do on its own, but all the characters are fucking animals
A: is that opera for children or what?
J: not specifically
A: nice comments about it on parterre
A: tho i suppose it will still be poorly attended
A: if mattilla in jenufa couldn't fill seats...
A: i like how they used to do salome as a double bill
J: that would make for a long night
A: maybe it was like salome and then gianni schicchi
J: hah totally
J: Sal-Pag
J: the production nicely homoeroticizes some shit
A: indeed
J: the older dude gets freed
J: and the younger dude has been knifed and keep singing "you're my father"
J: but I think they should translate it to be "you're my daddy"
A: hehe
A: you know what's his name in the bcast booth is going to be making that joke by the end of the run
J: hah Will Berger
J: totally
J: people really cheered for that production
J: which was a nice change
J: even though there's like weird mimed rapes and such
J: with like....guys in drag "putting on a play"
A: bondy's all "what's a guy gotta do?"
A: you boo scarpia w/ hookers and you cheer this?
J: hah
A: tho i imagine there is nyet a lot of intersection between those crowds
J: yeah, that's probably true
A: PS, this is a neat if nutty looking lohengrin
A: if mattilla in jenufa couldn't fill seats...
A: i like how they used to do salome as a double bill
J: that would make for a long night
A: maybe it was like salome and then gianni schicchi
J: hah totally
J: Sal-Pag
J: the production nicely homoeroticizes some shit
A: indeed
J: the older dude gets freed
J: and the younger dude has been knifed and keep singing "you're my father"
J: but I think they should translate it to be "you're my daddy"
A: hehe
A: you know what's his name in the bcast booth is going to be making that joke by the end of the run
J: hah Will Berger
J: totally
J: people really cheered for that production
J: which was a nice change
J: even though there's like weird mimed rapes and such
J: with like....guys in drag "putting on a play"
A: bondy's all "what's a guy gotta do?"
A: you boo scarpia w/ hookers and you cheer this?
J: hah
A: tho i imagine there is nyet a lot of intersection between those crowds
J: yeah, that's probably true
A: PS, this is a neat if nutty looking lohengrin
A: by the same guy who did that parsifal i sent a while back
A: with KFV done up to look exactly like old-skool lohengrins
J: Röschmann as Elsa!!!!
A: yeah dude
A: that sounds clutch
J: totally fetch
J: I want that so bad
A: "At the beginning of the third scene of Act 3 the people's consciousness is awaking. The military fanfares sounds from all sides causing anxiety and verzweiflung."
J: there's a good pill for acute bouts of Verzweiflung.
A: with KFV done up to look exactly like old-skool lohengrins
J: Röschmann as Elsa!!!!
A: yeah dude
A: that sounds clutch
J: totally fetch
J: I want that so bad
A: "At the beginning of the third scene of Act 3 the people's consciousness is awaking. The military fanfares sounds from all sides causing anxiety and verzweiflung."
J: there's a good pill for acute bouts of Verzweiflung.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Fine Arts Quartet at NAS
In general, I don't have a ton of interesting things to say about string quartet performances, but feel I should at least give a shout out to the very nice program of Haydn, Bruckner, and Schumann given by the Fine Arts Quartet at the National Academy of Sciences yesterday afternoon.First things first--have you even been to this auditorium (left)?? I don't have the best ear for acoustics--I notice when they are bad, but above a certain level in a modern concert space I can't really distinguish the good from the great. That said, the acoustics in this auditorium in the main NAS building off the mall are freaking phenomenal. There's a detailed explanation of the technique used here. We were about 100 feet back from the stage, and the sound of the string instruments was absurdly present and warm, as though you were sitting next to the instrument, and yet it was coming from all around you. Really, the acoustics were entertainment enough--it's honestly the best room I've ever been in for chamber music. Unfortunately, looks like they only do three public shows a year.
Anyhow, I won't dwell on the program too much. The interesting Brucker quartet on the program, only discovered in 1949 from the program notes, had some really lovely moments despite my general (though largely unjustified) indifference to Bruckner. The Schumann Op. 41 No. 1 which made up the second half of the program was very beautiful, particularly the adagio with its aching viola line played movingly by the Quartet's newest member. The encore was an invigorating rendition of the last movement of Shostakovich's 1st string quartet, which kind of left one hungry for what the group can do with 20th century fare.
UPDATE:
PS, here's that priddy Adagio from the Schumann:
Sunday, November 08, 2009
Götterdämmerung: Two nights only...
Well, as we all know, the cost of this infernal recession now stands at 10.2% unemployment and exactly one complete Ring Cycle. Watching the first installment of WNO's very enjoyable "Götterdämmerung - IN CONCERT" last night, though, I preferred to think of more romantic reasons for the spare presentation--perhaps they had a full production in the bag, but on the eve of the big show, the mean ol' Republicans in Congress heard about the new and improved and topless Pocahontas-Rhinemaidens in FZ's production and decided to padlock the warehouse, but then Irene Theorin and Alan Held and the rest of the WNO gang got together and decided they didn't need any fussy old sets to tell the timeless story of Götterdämmerung, and decided to just go ahead and do the show in their street clothes on a bare stage and it was a big success and they all learned the true meaning of Christmas. Or something.In any event, musically this installment held its own, and surpassed in some areas, the previous WNO Ring installments. I continue to go back and forth about Irene Theorin, but its mostly forth at this point. She's a convincing actress, of course, and when she hits her mark, the soaring lines are definitely more rich than strident and a cut above other work-a-day Brunnhildes who have the stamina and accuracy but not a crumb of the vocal splendor one so desperately wants. Some local observers were complaining about her too-quiet middle and lower register in the recent Ariadne here (which I really loved, despite some faults) and I think one must conclude that a) she really doesn't have much juice down there, but b) the woman appreciates, and knows how to work, a good piano. The low-key portions of the immolation scene, for instance, were quiet and lovely and quite surprising. But then again, I imagine the Theorin nay-sayers on Ariadne probably don't care too much about her lower register here.
So, not sure when this happened, but seems the tenor troubles made plain during the Ariadne run with the previously engaged Siegfried(s) may have been too much, and they called in Jon Frederic West. Now, I can see how at the Met, with the full Wall of Sound in effect, West's voice may come off a tad small, but in the Kennedy Center its just the right size and sounds great. He's extremely lyrical and precise, and except for an occasional back-of-the-throat thing he does to keep big notes in check it is a sweet, winning tone with none of the strained hootiness one is used to suffering at Siegfried's hands. He is also a total goofball. While using the score a lot more than the rest of the cast due to shorter preparation time (I imagine), he also chose to mime the shit out of everything, "Our Town" style--he even tried to hold onto the Speer for Theorin to grab in the oath section, only to be left hanging--cold, Irene, just cold. Oh, and when Brunnhilde finally turned to notice him in Act II, he did this amazing big dumb "how ya doin'" grin that elicited a huge laugh from the audience. I suppose in a full production, one might label this "bad acting", but in the context of the scrappy quasi-concert setup, it was awfully enjoyable.
Gidon Saks made quite an impression as Hagen, with a large, booming sound in the middle-lying passages and an irrepressible portrayal which came off despite the obvious limitations. This Hagen was inviting and masterful, sinister but not repellent, manipulating the other characters through the force of his personality and intelligence rather than simply taking advantage of their stupidity and blindness. It must be said, though, that the lower register was a reach for him, and one missed the basso splendor of the Hagen who can go deep and sound like he could hang out there all day.
The rich Waltraute of Elizabeth Bishop also deserves a mention. It's a hit or miss scene, I think, and she made it quite compelling, both in her sad portrait of Wotan and in the fiery scolding of Brunnhilde, where Bishop expertly captured the haughty superiority coloring Waltraute's desperation. Another great half-staging moment: when Brunnhilde finally tells her to get off her rock, Theorin pointed off stage, Waltraute picked up her score and stalked offstage in her concert gown and heels with ATTITUDE.
As for the Gibich kids, I think we can all imagine what a great Gunther Alan Held makes, so I will leave it at that. As for Gutrune, let me just say that this Bernadette Flaitz totally nails everything that is funny and ludicrous about Gutrune, i.e., everytime she comes onstage its the operatic equivalent of a Stacy alert. People, can we start agreeing that Gutrune should actually be played as a character part, like Mime? It's all there in her music, you just need to have the courage to not make her a lame romantic side character but rather the ur-hose beast.
Philipe Augin turned in a thoughtful and exacting performance from the pit, in the Wagner-as-chamber music vein (in keeping with the WNO's modest forces). Augin rarely let a motif get by with rushed or perfunctory phrasing--the opening and dawn transitions in the first and second acts were masterfully built from their constituent parts with many beautiful details revealed. His Funeral March needs to be highlighted for special praise, instead of going for the savagery (not that that's a bad thing) he put together a mesmerizing essay on the microdynamics of the passage. Were I to quibble, I'd say at times he failed to capture the appropriate momentum--for instance, the meat of the Act II confrontation scene plodded and the Act II chorus lacked some of the rollicking bravura drive it can achieve.
The WNO orchestra played with great distinction and responsiveness, save for some occasional messiness in the exposed brass lines, and really, what are you gonna do? One does note that the wall-shaking one wants in parts of Götterdämmerung just isn't possible here, but that doesn't make it any less credible a performance.
As for the "production", WNO did a good job with a tricky situation. Keeping the orchestra in the pit and only the relevant singers on stage (against some of the cloud backdrops from previous installments and minimal lighting) did a lot to focus one's attention on the story, despite the lack of, you know, sets. And while there were some silly (but delicious) moments, as described above, there were also a couple of inspired choices. For instance, instead of having Siegfried do his death section with the vassals et al. standing around, the front scrim came down and Jon Frederic West sang it alone, sitting in a chair illuminated by a single spotlight. The effect of having this exquisite moment--usually accompanied with the tenor sprawled in some godforsaken position, covered in sweat, making excessive death gurgles, and about an inch from expiring himself--done perfectly straight brought it an intimacy that was quite haunting and emotionally affecting. Likewise with two of Brunnhilde's moments: the section before the trio at the end of Act II and the entire immolation--both done with Irene Theorin standing alone at the center of the stage. I have to imagine this setup would be a bit of a chore for someone coming to Götterdämmerung fresh, but for someone reasonably familiar with the proceedings, there were lots of interesting opportunities to meditate on the piece without the constant grinding of scenery and rustling of bearskins. One wonders what else might benefit from the recession treatment...
UPDATE: Hmmm...Charles Downey of Ionarts differs with my assessment of the comedic gifts of last night's Gutrune:
The supporting cast was equally strong, with the exception of the flimsy Gutrune of Bernadette Flaitz, who seemed ill.In hindsight, I suppose one should tread carefully with one's conclusions about a singer who appears to be mining their company debut in Götterdämmerung for maximum laffs, but something about it was working for me...
UPDATE II: Some other positive and thoughtful reviews in from WaPo, WaTi, and Wagneroperas.net. There seems to be general consensus that Jon Frederic West was straining by the end, but I honestly didn't hear it. His death scene was subdued but hardly inaudible, and as described above, this was an arresting choice. Maybe I'm just used to "straining" in this part meaning "blowing vocal cords and making ungodly screech noises" and I can't tell the gradations anymore.
At any rate, with this kind of coverage, next week's encore is going to be a hot ticket. Pretty nice coup for a plan B...
Vogt
Great assessment of the K. Flo-Vo conundrum from jfl at Ionarts:
PS, here's a clip, though of course it doesn't get at how freaky loud that sweet voice sounds in the opera house:
Vogt is a stranger bird, altogether. With his odd, or perhaps lacking, technique, one wonders how many trained but struggling tenors listen to him thinking: “I’m stuck in the boonies and he’s got a world class career with that!?” Well, the difference is that whenever his voice ‘fits’, he has something no one else does. Since the listener/viewer only cares about the result, not what went into it, that’s more than sufficient. Klaus Florian Vogt’s special quality—“strange” doesn’t begin to describe its chorister-metallic-behind-the-forehead-bell-like character—certainly takes getting used to, but when he’s playing outsiders or introverted characters (Lohnengrin, Walter von Stolzing), that’s easy, because its distinctive character makes immediate dramatic sense. For it to make sense as Florestan, it will take longer than two arias in one evening. With him in that role, there is at least no doubt who’s wearing the pants in the two characters’ relationship—not just during, but also before and after his incarceration.That pretty well expresses my feelings after the Met Lohengrin a few years back and the Bayreuth Meistersingers I've listened to on the radio. You can use "ethereal- space-alien-like" as a prefix for any portrayal he does like you can "lusty" for Domingo's roles. But once you hear that sound you need it again and again...
PS, here's a clip, though of course it doesn't get at how freaky loud that sweet voice sounds in the opera house:
Friday, November 06, 2009
Gotterdammerung for under $100 a day!
A: WNO just sent a nice preparatory note for gotterdammerung reminding ticketholders of its length and telling them about how they can get food
J: hah
A: and somewhat erroneously calling it a "once-in-a-lifetime event"
A:considering it is a somewhat pedestrian cast and there are two performances
J: yeah and that it's downgraded from a full production
A: "Rarely, if ever, is Gotterdammerung mounted with so little to recommend it...you won't want to miss it!"
A: "Where most companies would just walk away, WNO delivers! Be there!"
J: it's so true
J: like, learn to fold gracefully
A: "I mean, at least its still Gotterdammerung, right? A singular event!"
A: huh
A: Sondra Radvanovsky is Gutrune in this 2000 Gdams on sirius
A: random
J: huh
A: that part makes luxury casting really boring
J: hah
A: and somewhat erroneously calling it a "once-in-a-lifetime event"
A:considering it is a somewhat pedestrian cast and there are two performances
J: yeah and that it's downgraded from a full production
A: "Rarely, if ever, is Gotterdammerung mounted with so little to recommend it...you won't want to miss it!"
A: "Where most companies would just walk away, WNO delivers! Be there!"
J: it's so true
J: like, learn to fold gracefully
A: "I mean, at least its still Gotterdammerung, right? A singular event!"
A: huh
A: Sondra Radvanovsky is Gutrune in this 2000 Gdams on sirius
A: random
J: huh
A: that part makes luxury casting really boring
Monday, June 01, 2009
'08 - '09 Season Reviews
- Götterdämmerung (Met)
- Die Walkure (Met)
- Peter Grimes (WNO)
- Sonnambula (Met)
- Lucia (Met)
- Tristan (Met)
- Salome (Met)
- Ariadne (ROH)
Wednesday, May 06, 2009
Siegfried Follies
A: hey
A: you are def not traveling for siegfried, right?
J: nah
J: I think I will skip
A: k
J: maybe for Ragtime tho
A: just wanted to check before
A: i pull a trigger
A: right
A: newt gingrich was sending twitter updates from the premeire
J: hah!!
J: what did he say?
A: he made a joke (i think) about siegfried waterboarding mime
A: tho that might actually happen
A: i couldn't tell from the review
J: hah!
A: apparently the siegfried was sick, but the cover didn't know the blocking or something
J: oh man
A: so he sang it from offstage while the main guy acted it out
J: weird
J: the whole thing??
A: that's what it sounded like
A: does a place like WNO not rehearse a cover for siegfried?
J: they are just in way over their heads with this Ring
A: yeah
A: jeez
A: wapo: "While MacAllister's Siegfried gave it his all, Lindskog's Siegfried, confronted with a whole lot of woman, finally let hormones trump his puzzlement and ended up rolling around with her on the stage so energetically that his body kept the final curtain from coming fully down until Theorin prompted him to roll out of the way."
J: oy
A: may just go thsi evening and get it over with
J: I am trying to figure out is Macallister is that awful tristan I saw
A: this video of obama at a burger place today is fun
A: hm
A: i don't know if this is quite pc
J: heh
J: I'll tell you this much
J: that exhibit sounds dull as dishwater
A: SERIOUSLY
A: in celebration of the WNO's production of turandot, we preesnt a panel discussion around the themes of Puccini's work entitled Turandot: Brutality of the Chinaman
J: National Geographic Presents "Brutally Decapitate Your Suitor: An Examination of China's Rich Cultural Past"
A: i would really like it if they unearthed a bunch of puccini's turn of the century asian porno
J: esp if they all looked like Jane Eaglen and Ghena Dimitrova, but Chinese
A: haha
A: you are def not traveling for siegfried, right?
J: nah
J: I think I will skip
A: k
J: maybe for Ragtime tho
A: just wanted to check before
A: i pull a trigger
A: right
A: newt gingrich was sending twitter updates from the premeire
J: hah!!
J: what did he say?
A: he made a joke (i think) about siegfried waterboarding mime
A: tho that might actually happen
A: i couldn't tell from the review
J: hah!
A: apparently the siegfried was sick, but the cover didn't know the blocking or something
J: oh man
A: so he sang it from offstage while the main guy acted it out
J: weird
J: the whole thing??
A: that's what it sounded like
A: does a place like WNO not rehearse a cover for siegfried?
J: they are just in way over their heads with this Ring
A: yeah
A: jeez
A: wapo: "While MacAllister's Siegfried gave it his all, Lindskog's Siegfried, confronted with a whole lot of woman, finally let hormones trump his puzzlement and ended up rolling around with her on the stage so energetically that his body kept the final curtain from coming fully down until Theorin prompted him to roll out of the way."
J: oy
A: may just go thsi evening and get it over with
J: I am trying to figure out is Macallister is that awful tristan I saw
A: this video of obama at a burger place today is fun
A: hm
A: i don't know if this is quite pc
J: heh
J: I'll tell you this much
J: that exhibit sounds dull as dishwater
A: SERIOUSLY
A: in celebration of the WNO's production of turandot, we preesnt a panel discussion around the themes of Puccini's work entitled Turandot: Brutality of the Chinaman
J: National Geographic Presents "Brutally Decapitate Your Suitor: An Examination of China's Rich Cultural Past"
A: i would really like it if they unearthed a bunch of puccini's turn of the century asian porno
J: esp if they all looked like Jane Eaglen and Ghena Dimitrova, but Chinese
A: haha
Klavier Trio Amsterdam and "Riskiness"
So, per the Douglas McLennan post I discussed below, I kept thinking about his suggestion that the performances we encounter today may not be "risky" enough. The idea of "riskiness" in classical performances sort of stuck in my craw, because it seems like a pretty poor descriptor for many of the performances I find most memorable.
Clearly, "riskiness" in its most common meaning is a good criterion for certain works...no use seeing an Elektra that refuses to take any risks, right? But as a blanket expectation, it makes me think more of the best in Madonna than the best in, say, Andras Schiff. I want to leave a performance of Bach saying that it was exquisite, or shattering, or transcendental, but not necessarily "risky" which implies, to some degree, aesthetic choices deliberately designed to jar an audience, as much for the disorientation itself as for any deeper aesthetic value. Again, it certainly has its place, but I'm skeptical about it as an all-purpose artistic goal, especially when we're talking about the performance of centuries old masterpieces. Calling Vivaldi "risky", even when you have everyone onstage naked, just always sounds like desperate marketing to me.
Then I went to a concert given by the Klavier Amsterdam Trio the other night (this time at the French embassy, as opposed to the Corcoran concert reviewed here). Folks, if you're looking for a definition of risky concertizing, then I have the trio for you.
The whole affair started innocently enough, with Klara Wurtz playing a brilliant but sweet rendition of the Bach Partita No. 1. I have sort of a hard time objectively reviewing Bach beyond saying that it worked and I was in total rapture or it didn't work and I was bothered. This worked. Then Joan Berkheimer (on keys) and Nadia David (on cello) came out and did Dvorak's Sonatine Op. 100, followed by Ravel's Tzigane, with Berkheimer on violin and Wurtz back on keys. This was not the sort of performance one finds on a studio recording. Both pieces were very raw, very passionate, and totally heedless of proasic niceties like ensuring a consistently priddy sound. And both efforts were totally captivating. Berkheimer's violin in (the?) Tzigane crackled with cutting sounds of great emotion and seductiveness, juxtaposed with almost terrifying ones. Nadia David in the Sonatine sawed away at her cello with abandon, chasing, almost desperately, this really deep, rich, exciting sound she is able to produce. After the break was the main event, Dvorak's Dumky trio. Again, this was not a performance aimed at having the harmonies lock in perfect equilibrated balance, this was a performance about wringing some blood out of the thing. And blood they wrang.
Anyhow, definitely some risks being taken there, and with quite thrilling results. Still, I wonder if we benefit more from understand a performance like this as a distinctive interpretation, instead of an exercise in boundary pushing...
Clearly, "riskiness" in its most common meaning is a good criterion for certain works...no use seeing an Elektra that refuses to take any risks, right? But as a blanket expectation, it makes me think more of the best in Madonna than the best in, say, Andras Schiff. I want to leave a performance of Bach saying that it was exquisite, or shattering, or transcendental, but not necessarily "risky" which implies, to some degree, aesthetic choices deliberately designed to jar an audience, as much for the disorientation itself as for any deeper aesthetic value. Again, it certainly has its place, but I'm skeptical about it as an all-purpose artistic goal, especially when we're talking about the performance of centuries old masterpieces. Calling Vivaldi "risky", even when you have everyone onstage naked, just always sounds like desperate marketing to me.
Then I went to a concert given by the Klavier Amsterdam Trio the other night (this time at the French embassy, as opposed to the Corcoran concert reviewed here). Folks, if you're looking for a definition of risky concertizing, then I have the trio for you.
The whole affair started innocently enough, with Klara Wurtz playing a brilliant but sweet rendition of the Bach Partita No. 1. I have sort of a hard time objectively reviewing Bach beyond saying that it worked and I was in total rapture or it didn't work and I was bothered. This worked. Then Joan Berkheimer (on keys) and Nadia David (on cello) came out and did Dvorak's Sonatine Op. 100, followed by Ravel's Tzigane, with Berkheimer on violin and Wurtz back on keys. This was not the sort of performance one finds on a studio recording. Both pieces were very raw, very passionate, and totally heedless of proasic niceties like ensuring a consistently priddy sound. And both efforts were totally captivating. Berkheimer's violin in (the?) Tzigane crackled with cutting sounds of great emotion and seductiveness, juxtaposed with almost terrifying ones. Nadia David in the Sonatine sawed away at her cello with abandon, chasing, almost desperately, this really deep, rich, exciting sound she is able to produce. After the break was the main event, Dvorak's Dumky trio. Again, this was not a performance aimed at having the harmonies lock in perfect equilibrated balance, this was a performance about wringing some blood out of the thing. And blood they wrang.
Anyhow, definitely some risks being taken there, and with quite thrilling results. Still, I wonder if we benefit more from understand a performance like this as a distinctive interpretation, instead of an exercise in boundary pushing...
Morris out
Caught the very end of tonight's Walkure, the last Leb Wohl for J-Mo. Oh, it was a little raggedy I guess...whatever. It's sort of amazing that for two decades he's been the face of this production, indeed, one of the institutions of opera in New York in the late 20th century.
It's the obvi thing to post, but c'mon, tell me it doesn't get you just a little choked up still. This vulnerable, rash, conflicted, overwhelmingly human portrayal has defined Wotan for a generation of American operagoers, and kept the Ring alive in our minds:
UPDATE: JSU has a lovely closing paragraph about Morris at the end of his review of last night...
It's the obvi thing to post, but c'mon, tell me it doesn't get you just a little choked up still. This vulnerable, rash, conflicted, overwhelmingly human portrayal has defined Wotan for a generation of American operagoers, and kept the Ring alive in our minds:
UPDATE: JSU has a lovely closing paragraph about Morris at the end of his review of last night...
He deserved all of the huge ruckus (and love) he inspired at curtain calls -- and more -- but I thought his performance and success here to be almost beyond applause, the sort of thing at which one just goes home in quiet disbelief. He visibly trembled this time as he grasped Brünnhilde at the last -- was it as himself, or as Wotan? What difference, at this point, could there be?
Monday, May 04, 2009
Some thoughts on recordings
A swell post from Douglas McLennan here. (Though I thought we were doing a moratorium on titles including violence to classical music, i.e. "the death of/"who killed"/"the death throes of", etc...)
McLennan raises two points: 1) that the excessive focus on perfectionism in classical studio recordings is problematic and that we should think about a return to live recordings, and 2) that the perfectionism performers seek in the studio may lead to less risky, more homogenous live performances.
I find the second point a bit less convincing. Besides recordings, I can think of a lot of reasons why performers turn in performances which seem more homogenous today--the general level of technical proficiency is higher, competition is greater, and jet travel means you (and the audience) have constant opportunities to assess that competition. International concertizing is a high profile, winner-takes-all profession like any other. As there are more people in the world who are reaching for that brass ring, the prerequisites for entry, those things that entrants can ensure are optimized, are all pushed to the limit, i.e., if you want to be Babe Ruth in the 21st century, the first thing you need to do is lose some weight and stop drinking in the club house. A highly idiosyncratic performer prone to dropping notes just can't make it past the profession's gatekeepers anymore.
But the reasons for better accuracy at least aren't all bad. Today we place a lot more emphasis on performers' fidelity to the composer's score, a benefit of which is that we now actually get to hear what they wrote. I'm pretty sure I heard an interview with Horowitz somewhere where he told a story about some great pianist of the previous generation coming up to him after a concert and being all "WTF. How am I supposed to keep up with you when you're playing all the notes?" (or something to that effect). The advent of studio recording has certainly played a part in this, but I think its hard to disentangle its effect from the whole.
The first point, is the more interesting one, I think, and an area where the opera world may have some lessons for the rest of the classical music world. Opera fans, of course, REALLY love their live recordings. And not just live recordings, but live snippets of all size and quality. Even if one tends to be a wuss about hardcore archival material (like me), there is still a huge amount of great quality live material out there for even the casually interested fan.
Now, live opera recordings don't really compete with studio sets on the store shelf (to the extent that such shelves exist anymore) but the studio sets aren't a substitute for a healthy live recording scene: instead, they serve as reference documents. Opera fans learn about new singers almost primarily by hearing live performances, either snippets on the Internet or through broadcasts and rebroadcasts of live performances. And these recordings are considered far superior to studio efforts in capturing what is exciting about a singer. Its widely acknowledged that you could learn virtually nothing about the experience of seeing Angela Gheorghiu live on a stage from one of her antiseptic studio records. This understanding helps live performance stay at the center of the opera experience, and, I think, inspires some of the excitement and commitment in its fan base that other areas of classical music would like to replicate.
Opera, of course, has an advantage here. The discrepancy between a studio opera or recital recording, with all of its polished edges and preternatural stamina, is so clearly different than the live experience, with its epic struggle between singer and orchestra and myriad opportunities for spectacular failure. Still, there are more mundane, even trivial things that help live recordings achieve that connection. The sound of a live hall. The applause. And yes, the little imperfections that show up. They don't have to be wrong notes--it could be the momentary lapses in coordination that result from an attempt to take a movement at a breakneck pace. A conductor engaging in overindulgent pauses that might seem excessive in the studio but gives the performance extra drama. These are the little things that help bridge the gap between the unreality of riding the subway with your headphones in and being engaged in a performance as though we are there, with the performer, communicating directly. That is the heart of experiencing classical music, and getting back to it should be at the center of the artifacts we create.
Of course, its odd to talk about elements of the live experience as somehow variations on the normal experience when, unlike with pop and rock recordings, the classical music studio recording is by definition a fantasy. One assumes in rock music that all bets are off for whether what one is hearing on the record was performed in one take at the same time. Sure, there is a spectrum, but we expect modern pop musicians to make use of the full possibilities of the studio to create their work, unconstrained by what would be feasible live with no prerecorded elements or mixing voodoo. The recording is the thing--that's what conquers our imagination.
But with classical music recordings, no matter how much you know about how the tracks are pieced together, you can't help but trust the illusion that the piece you are listening to might have happened in a concert hall. And while that illusion can produce many brilliant valuable documents (clearly, I would not give up those meticulously produced Glenn Gould recordings for anything), the document isn't really the thing: it is the live performance. So there is something fundamentally problematic about trying to maintain a vibrant live performance culture when your audience has this notion of a perfectly polished vaccuum-packed sound in its head. More audience members fail to see the utility of going to a live performance if they are simply expecting that flawless sound, while those in the audience have trouble engaging with the performance as a live event, and not just an approximation of the reference recording playing in their head. While conductors and musicians are making choices all the time that make live "live", appreciating those choices unless they are glaringly obvious seems more difficult.
But what to do? More high profile live recordings would be certainly be great. For piano in particular, it would help to blunt the impression of endless re-recordings of the catalogue. Moreover, there is something about a live piano recital recording that really connects a listener to the live experience--the juxtaposition of repertoire, the excitement of being in the same room with the virtuoso--I know I count some live recital recordings as among my most beloved. Record companies could also do more to enable live footage of recitals. You can watch Mattila in almost all of her major roles on Youtube, but there are only a handful of good live clips of Pollini. There are clearly more opportunities to get video of Mattila out there, since operas are broadcast more frequently, but you'd think an enterprising label could do a lot to make up the difference.
Clearly, the economics may be against this. And, as McLennan notes, a lot of performers may insist on strict control of their recorded material out of fear that audiences will be critical of any slip ups (which seems to me a highly irrational fear, but OK). But the current situation is far from ideal. Watching virtuoso performers in person is a sensational experience that truly can't be captured on record. Recordings need to be an incitement to have that experience, rather than a barrier.
Speaking of making live "live":
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