An evening with Aprile
Attached you will find the song lineup for last night’s Aprile Millo recital, though as the saying goes, there were some changes to the printed program.
The first half went more or less as planned, though after the R. Strauss a man exiting the auditorium tripped and fell in the aisle, hit his head on a railing, and was knocked unconscious. A doctor was in the house, so he started to tend to the injury while the house staff called 911.
Meanwhile, Aprile re-entered and started to introduce Lynn Harrell. The audience shouted out to her that there was a man down, so she announced we should remain in our seats to wait for instructions. They took a 30 minute intermission while the EMT were summoned, a stretcher brought in, etc. Then something like the final 2/3 of the recital followed.
My very favorite thing she did all night was the opening of “O sole mio,” that easy, liquid middle voice legato on “Che bella cosa na jurnata ‘e sole…” It’s not bel canto, strictly, because it’s so natural. It’s just simply beautiful singing.
Of the “among,” Aprile elected to sing Fanciulla, Mefistofele, the Zaza duet and the Trovatore duet. Explaining that she was still weak from dieting, she asked our indulgence — which was not necessary for the music sung (the “L’altra notte” in particular was just superb) but rather for the decision to quit while she was ahead in the operatic section and round out the evening with a few (more) parlor songs: “Danny Boy,” a sort of “Wedding of Jack and Jill” piece and then she closed with “Musica Prohibita.”
The middle voice is still lovely, and she needed only about a number and half to sound fully warmed up. She ended most numbers around F or G. She did sing both the written high C in the Fanciulla and the unwritten one in the Trovatore, took a huge if ungainly B-flat (I think it was) in the Zaza, and an absolutely sterling high B in the Boito.
She has indeed lost some weight, emphasized by the tight basque bodice, low sweetheart neckline and crinoline skirt of her concert dress. If you think of Elizabeth Taylor circa 1980 as Leonora in “Trovatore,” you have the effect. The coiffure was quite elaborate, with a big teased wave in the front, a braid embellished with jewels, and a silver lamé mesh snood.
I’ll leave it to the cher public to detail the names and deployment of the dozen or so assisting artists, which included Our Own squirrel’s boyfriend Michael Fabiano.
Yet I’ve seen Millo live, and share Monty’s wonder. Yes, even when in the house for the run of Aidas elsewhere described as “transcendent.”
I don’t argue that she’s got a lovely voice, but I’ve never found her to be a terribly interesting or insightful performer, all that Italianate style notwithstanding.
I’ll take the listing of the Sempre Libera with a grain of salt. She’s never had that agilita. Besides, why would she do it without the Ah, fors’e lui ?
On the other hand, singing Laggiu nel soledad sure took a lot of courage. It’s not really an aria and that high C is murderously difficult. I don’t remember ever seeing it as part of a recital. A bravura showoff. She must have felt very confident. Could it have been intended for those who may be trying to cast Fanciulla in the near future?
Too bad she didn’t also include an aria from Verdi’s Attila.
I’ve never seen Millo live but I have no problem “getting” her. That rich, lustrous tone, the Italiante phrasing, the passion and commitment — everything one would want in her fach.
Millo has everything one would want in her fach except that “special something” imo. I am not sure what I mean by that (is it a special operatic personality? ) beyond the fact that her singing seems to me to be a kind of generic channelling of singers of a certain past era (Tebaldi, Milanov, Stella, etc.) with nothing “special” added of her own–as, for example, Price or Caballe brought to their roles, whether you like them or not. When Price sang Aida or Trovatore, it was pure Price, not kinda Milanov or kinda Tebaldi Milanov–not kinda mid-fifies singing–Price never made me think of those singers or anyone but herself.
That’s why I found Millo’s Aida and Tosca (the only two live performance with her that I have seen) slightly boring. It’s like I have heard that all before, but better.
The “funnest” part of the evening, though, may have been the melee that nearly ensued backstage. There was a list of people who were allowed to go back to see her, and when people got to the stage door and found out they weren’t on the list…. oooh, boy! Finally, everyone was told to go to the atrium and I assume she came out.
By the way, La Cieca, could you tell JJ that the top of his head is lovely? I was in a box directly above him.
a snood is sort-of a bag made of mesh or net worn on the back of the head, holding a mass of hair. Seems to me Gail Sondergaard used to favor them. (That reference ought to establish my own queer bona-fides…)
Snood.
thank you for the enlightenment. I thought I would have to go to bed as ignorant as I was when I awoke. That snood goes well with the doily. Is that a prop from a recent Salome production in Ogunquit?
When will we hear from La Millo, herself? I’ve been checking operavision… Nothing there. Not yet, anyway.
It would be fantastic to hear her reaction to the recital!
Are you reading this, Aprile????
Will JJ review in the Post?
Was the NYT there?
Did the Washington Post
make the trip?
Will PTB reconvene its print
issue to review and
illustrate this
signal event?
Based on these photos, I agree that she’s working an old-fashioned look. I can’t think of a role she could portray convincingly on stage. Definitely not Minnie. Perhaps an opera based on the life of Ethel Merman?
Her weight gain no longer looks to me like from eating too much but more likely a physiological problem, e.g., glandular.