I previously wrote on Flemish impresario Gerard Mortier backing out of his deal to run New York City Opera.
Then, this story appeared in Opera News Online concerning his acceptance of a position at Madrid's Teatro Real.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Hard Times?
Yesterday’s announcement from the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera that they would be suspending their 2009-2010 opera season was a local reminder of the general turmoil swirling around arts organizations everywhere on a far too regular basis as of late.
Of obvious mention is the case of the New York City Opera. Gerard Mortier, the Flemish general director of the Opéra National de Paris, was to take over as General Director of the New York City Opera. There had been grand promises of revolutionizing New York’s opera scene, not the least of which was the final shove to get long-desired renovations underway of the acoustic black hole that is the New York State Theatre in Lincoln Center. With the theatre closed, the company was relegated to biding their time this season with concerts scattered around New York City and a concert performance of Samuel Barber's Antony and Cleopatra at Carnegie Hall.
Such a move, although unquestionably necessary, irrevocably diluted the company’s physical and financial inertia that was shaky at best. Promises of $60 million for the first year of productions dissolved with the announcement that fundraising had fallen drastically short. And with only as much as $36 million being available, Mortier announced that he could not operate under those financial constraints. While the situation is somewhat more complex—it was discovered that Mortier and Nike Wagner, Richard Wagner's great-granddaughter, had put forward plans to run the Bayreuth Festival—this leaves New York City Opera in the worst of all positions and makes impossible their dream of competing with the Met across the plaza.
While Mortier’s lack of true commitment is now painfully obvious, adventurous opera-goers were sighing about what could have been. Mortier had already commissioned for the company an opera by Charles Wuorinen based on Brokeback Mountain and one by Philip Glass on Walt Disney. In addition, Mortier was pushing a revival of Glass’s Einstein on the Beach and a first-ever staging of Messiaen's St. Francois d'Assise.
The disappointments had begun to pile up. Opera Pacific’s board of directors cancelled the remainder of its 2008-2009 season (Ricky Ian Gordon’s The Grapes of Wrath and Salome) citing “the downturn in contributions to the organization that is a direct reflection of the challenging financial times the world is facing.”
Hopefully, the opera and music world can ride out the storm without the wolves taking any more victims.
Of obvious mention is the case of the New York City Opera. Gerard Mortier, the Flemish general director of the Opéra National de Paris, was to take over as General Director of the New York City Opera. There had been grand promises of revolutionizing New York’s opera scene, not the least of which was the final shove to get long-desired renovations underway of the acoustic black hole that is the New York State Theatre in Lincoln Center. With the theatre closed, the company was relegated to biding their time this season with concerts scattered around New York City and a concert performance of Samuel Barber's Antony and Cleopatra at Carnegie Hall.
Such a move, although unquestionably necessary, irrevocably diluted the company’s physical and financial inertia that was shaky at best. Promises of $60 million for the first year of productions dissolved with the announcement that fundraising had fallen drastically short. And with only as much as $36 million being available, Mortier announced that he could not operate under those financial constraints. While the situation is somewhat more complex—it was discovered that Mortier and Nike Wagner, Richard Wagner's great-granddaughter, had put forward plans to run the Bayreuth Festival—this leaves New York City Opera in the worst of all positions and makes impossible their dream of competing with the Met across the plaza.
While Mortier’s lack of true commitment is now painfully obvious, adventurous opera-goers were sighing about what could have been. Mortier had already commissioned for the company an opera by Charles Wuorinen based on Brokeback Mountain and one by Philip Glass on Walt Disney. In addition, Mortier was pushing a revival of Glass’s Einstein on the Beach and a first-ever staging of Messiaen's St. Francois d'Assise.
The disappointments had begun to pile up. Opera Pacific’s board of directors cancelled the remainder of its 2008-2009 season (Ricky Ian Gordon’s The Grapes of Wrath and Salome) citing “the downturn in contributions to the organization that is a direct reflection of the challenging financial times the world is facing.”
Hopefully, the opera and music world can ride out the storm without the wolves taking any more victims.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Knoxville Symphony Orchestra Bloggers Night
The KSO is offering a pair of free tickets for the January 15, 2009 Masterworks concert to the first 50 bloggers who respond by January 14, 2009 and agree to blog about their KSO concert experience. The KSO will also be hosting a reception for the bloggers following the concert.
Anyone interested in this intriguing offer should email Stephanie S. Burdette, KSO Director of Communications, or telephone her at 865-521-2317.
The January Masterworks concert will feature Bach's Brandenburg Concerto No. 3; Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 24 with pianist Navah Perlman; and Felix Mendelssohn's Symphony No. 4 ("Italian").
Ouch in Chattanooga
This story on the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera suspension of opera production appeared in the Chattanooga Times Free Press. Times are hard all over.
Here is the news release from the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera website—"CSO Board Votes to Suspend 2009-2010 Opera Season."
Here is the news release from the Chattanooga Symphony and Opera website—"CSO Board Votes to Suspend 2009-2010 Opera Season."
Monday, November 17, 2008
Review: UT Opera's STREET SCENE
This review can now be found in the November 20th issue of Metro Pulse or click here for the online page.
Thanks for reading!
Thanks for reading!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace
In all the performances I have attended by the Knoxville Choral Society, I have never been disappointed by their choral prowess. This excellent group full of marvelous and dedicated ensemble singers under the direction of Eric Thorson, have what every choral group aspires to—balanced sections with rich sonorities across the range of voices, that intangible quality of ensemble togetherness, and a precise control of diction combined with both vocal power and vocal subtlety.
Their performance of Karl Jenkins’ The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace was no exception. The Jenkins instrumental score—minimalist at times, almost classical at others—was engaging and intriguing in its variety of instrumental tone combinations. The choral performance was crisp and powerful; the soloists excellent—Barbara Metzger’s beautiful treble solo in the Kyrie, Shauntina Phillips, and the quartet of Jennifer Bruce, Nancy Middlemas, Keith Wheeler, and David Smith.
Despite the excellent performances and the emotional importance of the piece’s premise, it distresses me to report that the evening was anything but emotional. In fact, the word "clinical" comes to mind. How can a performance be so competent, on a piece so intriguing, and yet end up so unfulfilling?
Had this been just me, I might have written off my unfortunate vision as Scrooge tried to do to “a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato.” But audience members, young and old, to my left and right were nodding off. A lady in front of me was quite asleep, head drooped, only to be painfully jerked awake by a percussion crash.
What was lacking for the audience in the evening’s performance was not choral excellence, but drama… and, dare I say it, theatricality. Success of The Armed Man not only needs dramatic ambiance, it cries out for it. Although I am sure there were substantial reasons that the Lecture Hall was chosen for the event, it was quite unsuitable for this production. Because of the seating area’s shallow rake, stage visibility was impaired. While the acoustics of the room were adequate, it lacked rich resonance to support a great choral ensemble. Most importantly, the hall’s design, obviously unintended for such performances, lacked the necessary controlled lighting to provide highlights and focus for the audience's eyes. The entire room found itself in a slightly-dimmed, enervating muddle of even illumination that made it virtually impossible to build (or for the audience to feel) dramatic tension and apprehension.
The use of projected war-related imagery, which has been an important feature of other productions of the work, seemed almost an amateur afterthought. The room’s projection screen at the rear of the stage was partially obscured by the riser-ed chorus, diminishing the hoped-for impact of the visuals.
While it was disappointing that the full emotional potential of the Jenkins work was not realized due to factors of venue and production, the KCS event was still a magical choral performance of a statement that needs to be made—and often.
Their performance of Karl Jenkins’ The Armed Man: A Mass for Peace was no exception. The Jenkins instrumental score—minimalist at times, almost classical at others—was engaging and intriguing in its variety of instrumental tone combinations. The choral performance was crisp and powerful; the soloists excellent—Barbara Metzger’s beautiful treble solo in the Kyrie, Shauntina Phillips, and the quartet of Jennifer Bruce, Nancy Middlemas, Keith Wheeler, and David Smith.
Despite the excellent performances and the emotional importance of the piece’s premise, it distresses me to report that the evening was anything but emotional. In fact, the word "clinical" comes to mind. How can a performance be so competent, on a piece so intriguing, and yet end up so unfulfilling?
Had this been just me, I might have written off my unfortunate vision as Scrooge tried to do to “a crumb of cheese, a fragment of an underdone potato.” But audience members, young and old, to my left and right were nodding off. A lady in front of me was quite asleep, head drooped, only to be painfully jerked awake by a percussion crash.
What was lacking for the audience in the evening’s performance was not choral excellence, but drama… and, dare I say it, theatricality. Success of The Armed Man not only needs dramatic ambiance, it cries out for it. Although I am sure there were substantial reasons that the Lecture Hall was chosen for the event, it was quite unsuitable for this production. Because of the seating area’s shallow rake, stage visibility was impaired. While the acoustics of the room were adequate, it lacked rich resonance to support a great choral ensemble. Most importantly, the hall’s design, obviously unintended for such performances, lacked the necessary controlled lighting to provide highlights and focus for the audience's eyes. The entire room found itself in a slightly-dimmed, enervating muddle of even illumination that made it virtually impossible to build (or for the audience to feel) dramatic tension and apprehension.
The use of projected war-related imagery, which has been an important feature of other productions of the work, seemed almost an amateur afterthought. The room’s projection screen at the rear of the stage was partially obscured by the riser-ed chorus, diminishing the hoped-for impact of the visuals.
While it was disappointing that the full emotional potential of the Jenkins work was not realized due to factors of venue and production, the KCS event was still a magical choral performance of a statement that needs to be made—and often.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
The KSO Principal Quartet
Small ensembles that come into existence because the members are part of a larger group are inherently at a disadvantage, it seems. Although all may be excellent musicians—although all may be willing participants—that participation almost always appears a little forced. This can manifest itself in many ways, from a slight unease to a palpable tension, or even to a visible hostility on stage. These symptoms almost always foretell bad music making, and isn’t really surprising. Independent ensembles choose themselves—orchestra ensembles do not.
For these reasons, it is all the more remarkable when an orchestra ensemble actually coalesces into a musically viable group. Such was the case in last Sunday’s concert of the KSO’s Principal Quartet—Edward Pulgar and Sean Claire, violins; Kathryn Gawne, viola; and Andy Bryenton, cello. If one uses the definition of a successful quartet as four voices speaking with one mind, then they have arrived beautifully and with distinction. However, this praise comes with a few comments and qualifications.
The concert opened with Giacomo Puccini’s I Crisantemi (Chrysanthemums). This is a lovely and delightful piece of music full of sweet sadness. Puccini apparently thought so too, for he reused some of the melodies in his opera Manon Lescaut. Searching distant memory of a far away place, I am almost certain I have heard this piece played in an orchestral version. This wouldn’t be surprising as the piece is as much of a tone piece for four string sections as it is a string quartet. That isn’t necessarily a negative—it just is what it is.
As far as the other works on the program, the Mozart Quartet in D Major for Strings, K. 499, and the Smetana Quartet No. 1 in E Minor…
while the performance was not without flaws, what was not lacking was the sense of true and dedicated ensemble playing—playing with a restrained energy that lurked just below the musical surface, ready to burst forth into the open, which it did at just the right moments. Technical mistakes can always be corrected by good players. Mismatched personnel, as we have seen in the past, cannot.
For these reasons, it is all the more remarkable when an orchestra ensemble actually coalesces into a musically viable group. Such was the case in last Sunday’s concert of the KSO’s Principal Quartet—Edward Pulgar and Sean Claire, violins; Kathryn Gawne, viola; and Andy Bryenton, cello. If one uses the definition of a successful quartet as four voices speaking with one mind, then they have arrived beautifully and with distinction. However, this praise comes with a few comments and qualifications.
The concert opened with Giacomo Puccini’s I Crisantemi (Chrysanthemums). This is a lovely and delightful piece of music full of sweet sadness. Puccini apparently thought so too, for he reused some of the melodies in his opera Manon Lescaut. Searching distant memory of a far away place, I am almost certain I have heard this piece played in an orchestral version. This wouldn’t be surprising as the piece is as much of a tone piece for four string sections as it is a string quartet. That isn’t necessarily a negative—it just is what it is.
As far as the other works on the program, the Mozart Quartet in D Major for Strings, K. 499, and the Smetana Quartet No. 1 in E Minor…
while the performance was not without flaws, what was not lacking was the sense of true and dedicated ensemble playing—playing with a restrained energy that lurked just below the musical surface, ready to burst forth into the open, which it did at just the right moments. Technical mistakes can always be corrected by good players. Mismatched personnel, as we have seen in the past, cannot.
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