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2007-11, Met New York, Nozze de Figaro

Le Nozze di Figaro

Composer: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Librettist: Lorenzo da Ponte after Beaumarchais
Venue and Dates: The Metropolitan Opera House, New York
10, 14, 17, 21, 24, 28 November & 1 December 2007
Conductor: Philippe Jordan
Production: Jonathan Miller
Set Designer: Peter Davison
Costume Designer: James Acheson
Lighting Designer: Mark McCullough
Choreographer: Terry John Bates
Stage Director: Robin Guarino
Performers:

Il Conte di Almaviva: Simon Keenlyside
Figaro: Bryn Terfel
La Contessa di Almaviva: Anja Harteros
Susanna: Ekaterina Siurina
Cherubino: Kate Lindsey
Marcellina: Marie McLaughlin
Basilio: Greg Fedderly
Don Curzio: Tony Stevenson
Bartolo: Maurizio Muraro
Antonio: Patrick Carfizzi
Barbarina: Anne-Carolyn Bird
Peasants: Jennifer Black, Leah Wool
Harpsichord: MilosRepicky
Cello: David Heiss

Notes:

Soundbites

Anthony Tommasini, NY Times, 12 November 2007

http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/12/arts/music/12figa.html?_r=1&ex=1352610000&en=48365cee00827c06&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss&oref=slogin

Beware, Conniving Count, This Rugged Figaro Will Have You Dancing to His Tune

Cast changes are inevitable during the run of a production at a repertory opera company. But when Jonathan Miller’s staging of Mozart’s “Nozze di Figaro” returned to the Metropolitan Opera on Saturday afternoon after a break of more than three weeks, the company fielded an entirely different cast from the one introduced in early October.

The lineup included two major stars: the bass-baritone Bryn Terfel as Figaro and the baritone Simon Keenlyside as Count Almaviva. The only holdover was the 34-year-old Swiss conductor Philippe Jordan, every bit as impressive as he was before.

The cast was working at a disadvantage. Given the constraints on scheduling at the Met, it is not possible for singers who step into a run to have a stage rehearsal in the house with the orchestra. All the more remarkable, then, that this performance was so rich, affecting and confident.

Singing the role of his momentous 1994 Met debut, Mr. Terfel was a larger-than-life Figaro. As his husky voice matures and darkens, he can still adapt it to the lyrical turns and fleet passagework in Mozart. Tall, rugged and burly, here was a Figaro who in a burst of desire could lift up his Susanna in one arm and twirl her around.

There was real threat in the dead-serious account of “Se vuol ballare,” when Figaro vows that if the lecherous Count intends to ensnare Susanna through an aristocratic dance of seduction, his lordship will step to Figaro’s tune. Yet in phrases in which Figaro ponders his dilemma, Mr. Terfel sang with haunting sotto-voce subtlety. The lovely young Russian soprano Ekaterina Siurina made a charming and sassy Susanna. Her tone was clear and true, her sound warm and luscious.

It was no surprise that Mr. Keenlyside gave such a complex and volatile portrayal. A consummate stage artist, he made an entitled and preening Count: effete, yes, but in a strangely sexy way. His singing was as nuanced and contrary as his characterization, elegantly dignified one moment, bullishly impulsive the next. In encounters with Susanna he seemed as hormonal as the adolescent page Cherubino, here portrayed winningly by the vocally rich and dynamic mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey.

Marie McLaughlin as Marcellina and Maurizio Muraro as Don Bartolo were delightful. The biggest ovations, and well deserved, went to the German soprano Anja Harteros as the Countess; in both her poignant singing and her vulnerable presence, she conveyed hurt and shame over the loss of her husband’s affection. For a soprano with such a strong and earthy voice, Ms. Harteros can shape phrases with melting pianissimo tenderness.

Mr. Jordan, recently appointed music director of the Paris National Opera (starting in 2009), is emerging as a major musician. Though the performance he drew from the orchestra and cast was lively and articulate, there was plenty of space for phrases to breathe. The music flowed with disarming naturalness. His debut with the New York Philharmonic on Dec. 6 now looks like an important event of the season.

John Yohalem, Opera Today, 12 Nov 2007

http://www.operatoday.com/content/2007/11/le_nozze_di_fig_4.php

Le Nozze di Figaro, in 1786, was the longest and most elaborate opera buffa ever composed and (though it is seldom given complete) is still the longest you are likely to see in the regular repertory.

There are so many variables that a critic can easily find something to object to. A Countess short of breath in “Porgi amor,” with which (no warm-up) she opens Act II; a Cherubino too feminine for adolescent male outpourings; a Count insufficiently virile for his masculine vanity (the engine that drives the plot) to be credible; a Marcellina too young to be Figaro’s mother (Beaumarchais turns Oedipus into farce here, showing how close tragedy and comedy really are); a lackluster conductor; a “concept” staging that ignores half the plot; an ugly set; an incompetent fandango or leap from the window – there is always (as Gilda Radner would say) something. Attending the Met’s Figaro in a year when few world-famous names have signed on for it, the manipulator of the poison pen whets his fangs in malicious anticipation.

At the matinee of November 10, the Met fooled me: until the last two minutes of the staging (and then it was Jonathan Miller’s unaltered original direction that let me down, not anything the performers did), Le Nozze was as near perfect as you are likely to get, and none of those obvious lapses occurred. Anja Harteros sang both the Countess’s arias flawlessly and was, in addition, a radiant beauty whose neglect by any husband puzzled everyone and made him look an oaf. She won the ovation of the afternoon – even for one who missed the angelic quality Kiri Te Kanawa brought to the Countess’s final lines of forgiveness. (The opera – and buffo in general – is primarily about forgiveness for everybody’s human imperfections – which is why the original, imperial audience found it easy to overlook the revolutionary subtext.) Ekaterina Siurina, a plump Russian tidbit, as Susanna sang a radiant “Deh vieni non tardar” and a “Venite, inginocchiatevi” with the proper giggly bounce. Kate Lindsey is a real find – her Cherubino looked like an adolescent boy, a very pretty one to be sure but with an arrogant chin and a “street” sort of strut that made this cocksure kid a credible threat to the older males. She sang gloriously too. Marie McLaughlin made an ardent but not preposterous Marcellina – for once one regretted the omission of her aria – and Anne-Carolyn Bird, though a bit tall, sang a sweet Barberina.

Among the men, Bryn Terfel naturally stood out in the title role. I did not like his Figaro when the production was brand new – he seemed so anxious to show what an actor he was that he huffed and puffed and groaned and grimaced instead of singing; Mozart took a back seat to Beaumarchais. He has calmed down considerably over the years, and though still a bouncing buffo-man with plenty of time for comedy (if his pretence of jumping off the balcony is not quite believable), he now sings the arias at a less frenetic pace, with more of the elegance they require and reward. Simon Keenlyside played the Count as an elegant fop, forever tossing his curls and pratfalling on the polished floors, but this never interfered with his musical authority. Maurizio Murano’s blowhard Bartolo, Greg Fedderly’s slithy Basilio, and Patrick Carfizzi’s lumpish Antonio earned most of the day’s laughs.

Philippe Jordan is a young Swiss who conducts with zest and delight, as if he wanted to grab you by the ears and prove this is a masterpiece with charms you never suspected – hardly necessary with Figaro, but what I mean is, he takes none of it for granted, he is thrilled by the music and eager to share.

And what did I object to about the conclusion? In the Met’s rush to get the Countess into a new and glittery gown for the finale, no one has thought (and Mr. Miller years ago did not think) to have her show the ring to the Count, revealing to him that she is the mysterious lady he made love to in the dark. The audience knows this, and Figaro and Susanna know it, but the Count does not, and his heartfelt, aristocratic apology is inexplicable if he doesn’t. The laws of farce are immutable: If you do not tie all the knots, the machine unravels. It’s such an easy piece of business to fix – and so satisfying when it’s fixed. Patch it up, Met.

2007_Nozze_NY_Met_02

David M. Rice, Classicalsource.com

http://www.classicalsource.com/db_control/db_concert_review.php?id=5202

This season’s Metropolitan Opera performances of Mozart’s sublime “Le nozze di Figaro” constitute what in some ways amount to two revivals of Jonathan Miller’s 1998 production. The two halves of the current run, although separated by just a few weeks, feature almost completely different casts – only conductor Philippe Jordan, Maurizio Muraro as Dr Bartolo, Patrick Carfizzi as Antonio and Leah Wool as the second bridesmaid remain throughout the run. This matinee performance offered exemplary singing and acting – by the second of the two casts – and fine music-making from the pit under Jordan’s sure-handed direction.

And, since I had previously attended a performance by the first cast, it also occasioned some thoughts and observations about opera casting and the rich diversity of interpretation that different performers and ensembles can bring even to a single operatic production. (My references below to the first cast are based upon the first performance of the season, on October 2.)

The male headliners in the current cast, Welsh bass-baritone Bryn Terfel as Figaro and English baritone Simon Keenlyside as Count Almaviva, both sang superbly and created memorable characterisations. Terfel’s Figaro showed two sides to his personality, passionately pouring out his inner feelings to us in soliloquy, both early on in ‘Se vuol ballere’ and in the final act in ‘Aprite un po’ quegl’occhi’, but outwardly maintaining a posture of servility toward the Count – save for an angry outburst after the disguised Cherubino is exposed by Antonio in the third act. Keenlyside’s Count was a rather dark and villainous character, whose aria ‘Vedrò mentr’io sospiro’ was delivered with menacing bite, as was his singing in second act ensembles with the Countess, Susanna and Cherubino. (By way of contrast, Erwin Schrott’s Figaro was ever defiant in expression, intonation and gesture to Michele Pertusi’s Count. This created even greater tension in their relationship, and also showed Figaro as an even more dangerous and revolutionary spirit.)

As the Countess, German soprano Anja Harteros was renewing her partnership with Keenlyside in July of this year at Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich. Harteros portrayed the Countess with great nobility, treating Susanna and Cherubino with kind affection whilst remaining ready to preserve her own dignity by standing up to her unfaithful husband, whose pleas for forgiveness rang hollow – at least until the final scene. Her singing was strong, clear and beautifully nuanced, both in her opening aria, ‘Porgi, amor’, and in ‘Dove sono’, for which she earned sustained applause. (In the earlier cast, Hei-Kyung Hong portrayed a somewhat more passive Countess, making her plotting to entrap the Count a bit less credible, but whose character evoked greater sympathy.)

The other women in the cast were all outstanding (as were their counterparts in the earlier ensemble). Russian soprano Ekaterina Siurina made a winning Susanna, a necessary ingredient of any successful performance of Le Nozze, since the plot revolves around her and she is on stage much of the time. Her ensemble singing as well as her sense of comedy were instrumental in making the performance lively and entertaining, and her ‘Deh! Vieni, non tardar’ in the final act was very moving. Marie McLaughlin was a fine Marcellina, trading insults with Siurina’s Susanna most effectively at the outset, and then showering her with affection after Figaro’s parentage was discovered. (Lisette Oropesa as Susanna and Ann Murray as Marcellina both gave outstanding performances in the October cast, but they were somewhat more subdued physically as they hurled invective back and forth.)

As Cherubino, American mezzo-soprano Kate Lindsey, a graduate of the Met’s Lindermann Young Artist Development Program, gave a marvellously comedic performance, capturing the breathlessness of the libidinous young page quite effectively in her aria ‘Non so più’, and later delivering a sumptuous ‘Voi, che sapete’. Her attempts at adopting military postures whilst Figaro sang ‘Non più andrai’ were priceless. Anne-Carolyn Bird made a fine Barbarina, her voice sweet and lovely and her personality charming and engaging. (In the earlier casting, these were the Met debut roles of Anke Vondung as Cherubino and Kathleen Kim as Barbarina, both of whom gave excellent performances.)

Maurizio Muraro made a marvellous Dr. Bartolo in both casts, tossing off patter with consummate ease, displaying a sonorous bass-baritone voice in declaring ‘La vendetta’ against Figaro, and later sheepishly taking on the role of father and father-in-law-to-be to Figaro and Susanna. (Muraro has portrayed this character at the Met not only in this opera, but also in Rossini’s “Il Barbiere di Siviglia”, his Met debut role.) Greg Fedderly as Don Basilio, Tony Stevenson as Don Curzio, and Patrick Carfizzi’s very humorously played Antonio were all memorable comedic characters. (In the first cast, Robin Leggate made an outstanding debut as Don Basilio, and Bernard Fitch gave an over-the-top quality to the stuttering Don Curzio.)

The approach of utilising two separate casts successively during a single run of “Le Nozze di Figaro” is not as strange as it might seem at first blush. This is perhaps the quintessential ensemble opera, requiring performers who can connect with one another musically, comedically and dramatically. To achieve that sort of rapport, ample time for rehearsal and interaction among the performers is essential, even though they may have sung their respective roles many times before. But in this age of jet-hopping artists with engagements all around the world, it is well-nigh impossible to keep such a cast together long enough for a run of a dozen performances, whilst allowing ample rehearsal time in advance and adequate rest between performances. If there are ongoing cast changes during a continuous run, however, the modified ensemble may function less smoothly than the original group that had rehearsed and performed together for the earliest performances. It thus made a good deal of sense to split the run and rehearse two separate ensembles (even though there were some overlapping cast members), thereby solving both the problem of scheduling sufficient performances to meet audience demand and that of achieving a smoothly functioning ensemble.

Actually, the virtually complete bifurcation of casts did not come about entirely by design. Isabel Bayrakdarian had originally been scheduled to sing Susanna for the entire run, but when she withdrew from the latter portion of the run owing to her advanced pregnancy, Siurina was engaged to replace her in the second cast. Bayrakdarian’s withdrawal, although presumably a medical decision, was certainly a wise one artistically. A visibly pregnant Susanna would implicitly introduce plot twists that the opera does not, and indeed cannot, resolve (as was noted in Kevin Rogers’ review on this site of a production by the Royal College of Music in June of this year that featured a conspicuously expectant Susanna). Bayrakdarian later had to withdraw from the earlier performances as well, and the Met turned on very short notice to Lisette Oropesa, another home-grown product of the Met’s development program, who performed in exemplary fashion. Another late substitution in the first cast was occasioned by the withdrawal of Dorothea Röschmann for health reasons from the role of Countess Almaviva, with Hei-Kyung Hong ably taking over that familiar role in the October performances.

In practise, the Met’s casting produced two superb and smoothly-functioning ensembles that gave well-sung and well-acted performances offered some different and interesting perspectives on this delightful opera. On both occasions I attended the entire production was smooth and well-rehearsed, with clever staging and individual gestures and bits of business enriching the performance at every turn. The uniformly outstanding singing at both performances made it impossible to say that either performance was better than the other. Rather, I am contentedly thankful for the opportunity to experience the talent of two so gifted casts.

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