When comes the wind that billows our words' sails?

Charles Jessold, Considered As A Murderer
by Wesley Stace

This novel is amazing, achieving a great balance between being entertaining and profound. Narrated by upper crust music critic Leslie Shepherd and set in the early part of the 20th century, it tells the story of Charles Jessold, an up and coming young British composer whose life and career end in a tragedy that eerily mirrors that of the Renaissance composer Carlo Gesualdo and that of the old English ballad upon which Jessold's opera Little Musgrave is based. I really liked the way Stace linked these three versions of this story, each belonging in a different time: there was the factual and historical Gesualdo story from the past, the fictional and timeless tale of Little Musgrave, and the present day* story of Charles Jessold where the relationship between fact and fiction is not always clear. The book is split into two halves; Shepherd tells the story of Jessold in each, but with some very crucial differences.
Stace gives us an intricate and heady mix. Charles Jessold is a clever mystery, a moving story of love, art, and tragedy, and an interesting look at the relationships between criticism and art and between real life and artistic creation. Stace also gives us a good view of the different things going on in the classical music world of the early twentieth century, especially the rise of interest in traditional folk material and the reception of atonality.


*Present day in the novel's terms, that is, since the story takes place from 1910-1923.

Last week Other Kenjari and I went to IU's production of Mozart's Don Giovanni, and it was very good. I had quibbles with some of the staging decisions, but the singing and playing were terrific, and there was a lot to like about other aspects of the production, too.
First, the quibbles. I thought a lot of the staging decisions were unsympathetic to the female characters. Donna Elvira was portrayed as completely melting at any morsel of positive attention Don Giovanni gave here, which took some of the force from her anger. Yes, her feelings about and for him are somewhat ambivalent, but that doesn't mean her anger over his betrayal and abandonment aren't legitimate and important (to both her as a character and to the narrative itself). Worst was that the action put on stage during the overture seemed to be aiming* to cast some doubt on the nature of what happened in Donna Anna's bedroom: Donna Anna waffles between unwilling, coy, and willing in her response to a masked and disguised Don Giovanni. This is especially troubling since the libretto and the later music are pretty clear that what happened was attempted rape: when Leporello declares it so in the first scene, Don Giovanni does not contradict him; and when Donna Anna describes what happened as such, not only does Don Ottavio rightly believe her, the music for her aria supports the truth of her account. Other productions I have seen leave this entirely off-stage (as does the libretto), and I prefer it that way.
ON the other hand, the production was overall very attractive. The use of large mirrors at the back of the stage produced some nice effects, especially for the outdoor scenes and Don Giovanni's villa. The costumes were really beautiful. The final scene, where the Commendatore's statue arrives and consigns Don Giovanni to hell was nicely done. As the stage was inundated with fog, he rode in on horse prop/statue that is slides across the stage on a small track. The horse's glowing red eyes were a nice touch. It was quite thrilling despite the simplicity of the effects. It's one of the marks of Mozart's genius that you really don't need much in the way of complex stagecraft or effects for this scene, because almost all of it is already there in the music.
The performances were wonderful. I really liked Zachary Coates' Don Giovanni - physically, he was reminiscent of Edward Norton in The Illusionist, and he had just the right voice for the part. Over the course of the opera, Don Giovanni becomes increasingly dissolute and callous, and Coates handled this quite well. Jason Eck's Leporello was a great partner and foil to Coates, too. Eck was great at the physical comedy and the snappy wit of the part. He did a great job with the Catalog Aria, and with all the ensemble pieces. I loved Kelly Glyptis' Donna Elvira - she captured the force of the character well. And even though I did not agree with the directorial choices regarding her meltiness over Don Giovanni, Glyptis did carry it off well. Rainelle Krrause, who sang Zerlina, did a beautiful job, too.
Don Giovanni is one of my favorite operas, and getting to see it live was a real treat. I was reminded of all the ways in which it is a near-perfect opera - great arias, comedy, romance, tragedy, and wonderful ensembles. Especially the latter - there is everything from duets to septets, and they are all amazing. I hope I get many more chances to see it.





*I say "seem to be aiming" because the staging did have elements of ambiguity, and was not always clear in what it was suggesting.

Giacomo Puccini
by Conrad Wilson

This biography was a very quick read and a nice introduction to Puccini's life and works. Puccini's life also contrasts sharply with that of many other composers - he was wildly successful and became wealthy enough to live in a very elevated and often indulgent style. He traveled a lot, owned several pieces of property, and could buy cars and speedboats. He certainly cultivated a much grander, swankier image and lifestyle than just about every other composer I've read about
Conrad Wilson was just about the most partisan biographer I've encountered since reading Einstein's book on Mozart. Wilson staunchly defends Puccini's operas against any criticism, even the reasonable kind, and even if it means casting aspersions on the work of others. Wilson also occasionally takes on the role of apologist for Puccini's failings and blunders. Thankfully, this is all pretty transparent and did not detract much from the book's usefulness.

On sunday afternoon I ventured into dorchester to see the Boston Opera Collaborative's production of Carmen, of which wavyarms was the assistant musical director.. I had not seen the opera in its entirety in many, many years, although I am, of course, quite familiar with the music.
Unfortunately, I got a little lost due to the contruction going on in the area, so I missed the overture. But the rest of the performance was quite good. They'd set the story in teh 1920s or 30s rather than the 19th century, which worked very well and allowed for elegantly simple costuming and staging. The singing was good. I thought the tenor singing Don Jose was especially good.

Last Friday, I attended Juventas' presentation of two new one-act operas. It was a really interesting and beautiful evening.

The Hourglass - Matthew Vest
This opera was based on a novel by Danilo Kis that fictionalizes his father's experiences and fate in Yugoslavia during WWII. The music itself was very attractive. The staging and content appeared to be fascinatingly symbolic and surreal. However, the singer's lines overlapped into such dense polyphony that in the text was utterly obscured. That really put a damper on the experience for me. I couldn't tell what was going on, what the four singer's relationships were to each other, or what any of the staging's striking images meant. It left me wondering what was the point of staging the piece as opposed to letting it be a concert work. Without any ability to figure out anything about the action, relationships, or meanings, I was unsure what the staging was really adding.


The Year of the Serpent - Erin Huelskamp
I really loved this opera, which was based on a Chinese legend and belonged firmly in the classic kung fu genre. It was witty and stylish. I truly enjoyed the eclectic styles that made up the music (which was just plain great), and Huelskamp made them all work together seamlessly. The costumes were wonderfully over the top, and the staging was relatively simple, which made it work very well.

I am planning to go see Opera Boston's production of Smetana's The Bartered Bride at the Cutler Majestic (in Boston's Theater District, near Chinatown). Does anyone want to join me?
Performances are:
Fri.May.1 7:30PM
Sun.May.3 3:00PM
Tue.May.5 7:30PM

I can go to any of the three performances Sunday or Tuesday. Tickets are $30-$35, and I can pick them up after work this week. Comment, e-mail, or call if you'd like to join me.

ETA: I forgot about the Cecilia concert, which eliminates Friday's performance.

Other Kenjari and I had a quiet, low-key, yet very enjoyable New Years Eve. First, we had an excellent dinner at The Fireplace in Brookline. It's a wonderful restaurant - nice atmosphere and terrific food.
Then we went home through a very pretty snowfall, where we watched the DVD of Puccini's Tosca that I'd gotten for Christmas. Wow is it good. Tosca is a very good opera - the music if good and the plot is just right for a late 19th century Italian opera (love! jealousy! murder! intrigue! suicide!). Raina Kabaivanska, Placido Domingo, and Sherrill Milnes sing the principal roles, and they are all amazing. Milnes is delightfully evil as Scarpia. And Placido Domingo sure can sing. And Kabaivanska is great. I wonder why I've never heard of her before, because she is wonderful. This version of Tosca is not a film of a live production. Instead, it was shot on location at the real locations referenced in the libretto. That and the good costumes make it a very visually attractive film. Even if you're not particularly into opera, I would highly recommend this film. The only thing people unfamiliar with opera might find a little off-putting is that the singers make use of the large, almost exaggerated gestures necessary for live performance at an opera house. But the singing is amazing.
Today we went out to see Brokeback Mountain. It's a beautiful movie, and if it doesn't get major Oscar nominations, I'm going to think that the Academy is asleep at the wheel. Heath Ledger is incredible - he doesn't even really look like himself - he looks like Ennis Del Mar. The cinematography is gorgeous, and the direction is wonderful. I have to say that one of the things I like about Brokeback Mountain is that it's not really a movie about being gay, it's a movie about a relationship between two people who love each other but can't be together. It's a love story, and a damn good one.

Last night Other Kenjari, epilimnion, anacrucis, and I went to see Philip Glass' opera Akhnaten at The Boston Conservatory. I highly recommend attending opera productions at conservatories, by the way. The ticket prices are usually a steal compared to what you would pay to see a professional production, and the quality is generally quite high.
And the performance last night was indeed very good. The cast was terrific. The man who played Akhnaten was amazing. His vocal timbre needs some maturing, but he's certainly a talented singer. What made him more amazing is that he's a countertenor. Since it had been several years since I'd heard this opera, I'd forgotten about that. So it was a very pleasant surprise, especially because Akhnaten does not sing until the last third of the first act.
Unfortunately, I was a little disappointed in the opera itself. I just don't think it's Glass' best work. Akhnaten lacks unity. There is a scribe/narrator character who speaks rather than sings and is the only character whose part is in English. I found that his parts disrupted the flow of the opera, both musically and dramatically. And the libretto just does not do as good a job with the story as it could have. There is a lot of wordless singing, which is fairly effective conceptually. But only up to a point: during the third act when it became clear to me just how much textless singing there had been, I found myself wondering if perhaps it was more the result of lazy libretto writing than conceptual vision. Musically, it is very similar to Satyagraha (also by Glass). However, Satyagraha is a much better work and I found myself wishing that the opera program had chosen to do it instead.
Nonetheless, Akhnaten does have some really great moments. The trio sung by Akhnaten (countertenor), Tye (soprano), and Nefertiti (mezzo-soprano) at the end of the first act is just gorgeous. And the duet between Akhnaten and Nefertiti in the second act is beautiful. The orchestral writing makes some very good use of percussion, too. And I'm glad that the Conservatory chose to do it. It would be far too easy for any school's opera program to justify sticking to standard repertoire like The Barber of Seville and Verdi. I'm very pleased that Boston Conservatory is more adventurous, and interested in the work of living composers.