Attila is like a self-conscious stroll down Rodeo Drive – or even worse, to the Mall of America – reducing an opera about ruthless tyranny brought down by ruthless vengeance to a quaint and insipid fashion show.

Directed by Pierre Audi and with costumes and sets by Miuccia Prada and Herzog and de Meuron, the Met’s first-ever production of Attila is a disheartening flop for the company at a time of transition in their approach to Opera as Theater. Virtually every detail of this production could be gleaned from the production stills reproduced in the mainstream media — indeed, this production is like a Powerpoint™ presentation of Attila that could accompany a radio broadcast. And in spite of Riccardo Muti‘s inspired conducting, there’s little justification for mounting this dog of an opera on the Met stage in the first place.

And what happens on the stage? Practically nothing. An obscure, violent opera with a dodgy plot and relatively unmemorable music can be an opportunity for a director to let loose with a big, entertaining concept. But this production team is a committee of star egos, and director Pierre Audi’s hands seem to be tied by designers run amok, too self absorbed to contribute meaningfully to Attila’s theatrical possibilities.   Thus Audi’s direction has no teeth, leaving his haplessly awkward cast with park-and-bark “Verdi opera poses” of a classic Met vintage.

The dream team was very likely assembled under the strong hand of Muti, who has recently been coddled in New York like he’s the Second Coming of Christ. (His concerts with the New York Philharmonic this week have been headed off with text messages and emails announcing there will be no late seating and imploring us to “please arrive on time!”)*

Musically, Attila fares fine.  Many will be intrigued to hear choral writing that looks forward to Aida, especially in the grand choruses, and the Priestesses’ harp-accompanied scene upon which Aida’s Sacerdotesse are modeled. The Act Three orchestral introduction is cut from the same mould as the beautiful prelude before the third act of Rigoletto, and is equally magical in effect.  Yes, Attila has nice moments, but they are the same moments found in Verdi’s other, more enduring, works.

The singing has been mostly competent, with no revelatory performances but also little cause for protest. The conducting: genius, of course: Riccardo Muti has been received with an almost irrational fervor.  He is certainly a great conductor, especially in the Verdi repertoire, and he shapes this score into something resembling a musical event. The short, elegiac prelude bloomed with a rich legato rarely heard here, even under the exacting and often inspired baton of James Levine. The numerous indistinguishable arias and cabalettas were accompanied with uncommonly energetic polish and precision, and dramatic choral scenes moved with a grace and power for which Muti is now recognizable.

But while Muti’s judgment on musical matters is mostly beyond reproach, it is hard to imagine what he was thinking when he assembled this team including set designers Herzon and De Meuron. Their sets, while visually striking, reveal the cerebral, myopic vision of professional star-chitects. The post-apocalyptic concrete rubble of the Prologue, with its angular, rugged neatness, is a vague visual cliché of contemporary urbanism much like the lush, green terrarium seen in the rest of the opera is a conceit of leafy city parks.

The set is the dubious star of the opera, so large and cumbersome that the cast is forced to perform on a narrow catwalk, swallowed by the dimensions of their surroundings. Breaking the Met’s stage into horizontally paneled partitions (using the Met’s hydraulic lift,) it is effective in showing Venice’s origins from the depths of ruin in the second part of the Prologue. But throughout Acts 1-3, they take one of the tallest and deepest stages in New York and reduce it to a crowded, two-dimensional scaffold.

Under these conditions, Audi has little room to work. Poor Samuel Ramey, in his walk-on as the Bishop, who was given no instructions except to literally walk on, stand in a waiting spotlight, and wave the cross. Then in the final scene, in one of the only glimpses of Personenregie, Odabella and her co-conspirators play an extended game of hide-the-sword from a suspicious – yet remarkably unguarded – Attila, who is handily stabbed to death. Except for the set, this inept Attila could be the Sonia Frisell Aida from 1988.

I hate to give Prada’s inept costumes any undue scrutiny, but they serve as a wonderful metaphor for this image-conscious yet ultimately lifeless production. The best bit, Odabella’s Bride-of-Frankenstein beehive, almost seems like an attempt at high-camp expressionism (an approach which would have made for an entertaining evening!) But she doesn’t manage to carry this idea. Instead, we get soldiers in tshirts with the sleeves rolled up, skinny pants and boots, industrial trench coats, distressed cotton, and double-breasted fur waistcoats.

And what of those models? We learned a few months ago that Prada, frustrated with her zaftig supernumeraries (“I cannot clothe them!”), insisted on actual models for the mute parts of the imprisoned Italian slave girls. In the Sacerdotesse scene in Act Two, she clothes the fat, embarrassing chorus in denim and dim lighting (as though they were her frumpy family members we’ve not yet met) who sing the part while wispy models in couture mime the scene above. It is a tacit admission that she has neither the interest nor the skill to work as a theater costumier, and that she views this project merely as an advertisement for her next overpriced dress.

Some will say that calling Attila a failure for the Met is unfair. They will say that bringing Muti to the Met was a triumph, and if his idiosyncrasies guided this production more than Peter Gelb’s vision for the house, it is a reasonable trade-off.

But Attila is one of only a handful so far in Gelb’s tenure featuring a prominent and respected European director at the helm. Patrice Chéreau’s From the House of the Dead, a resounding success, was created elsewhere and unpacked virtually ready-made. Luc Bondy’s ugly but innocuous Tosca opened the season by breaking all the rules while seeming oddly watered-down.

Perhaps this Attila could have revealed the innately theatrical qualities in haute couture — or brought an architect’s sense of trompe l’oeil to draw the spectator into something magical. A one-dimensional tyrant like Attila is particularly in need of a strong creative team to lend him complexity or — barring that — raw power. Neither happened. Sometimes when things don’t look very good on paper, it’s for a reason. So don’t be surprised when this Hun hits the clearance rack faster than last year’s military-inspired utility vest.

*Never mind that this is an ordinary concert, presumably with an intermission between Brahms’s First Piano Concerto and Hindemith’s Symphony in E Flat. If you ever wanted to know what it was like to be chastised by Gustav Mahler for entering the Vienna Opera after the overture has begun, now’s your chance!

(Photo: Ken Howard, Metropolitan Opera)

The raison d‘être of this particular showcase is undoubtedly the most polarizing contemporary opera singer, and whether you love her or hate her, a new Metropolitan Opera DVD of Thaïs is likely to reinforce your opinion

Acclaimed tenor/baritone/conductor/Live in HD host Plácido Domingo sets the scene on the Metropolitan Opera’s production of Massenet’s Thaïs in his pre-show introduction. After sharing that he’d love to sing the male lead but can’t because it’s a baritone role (this was filmed in 2008, pre-Simon Boccanegra; perhaps now he’ll give it a shot), he gravely intones: “And now, Renée Fleming in… Thaïs.”

An endless scene and a half transpires before the above-the-title lady in question finally makes her grand — and stunningly gowned — entrance, but to be sure when she does finally appear everyone onstage screams “Thaïs!” just in case we might have otherwise missed her. Fleming is not an exact physical fit for the role; her blond, dimpled good looks are more suggestive of a regional beauty queen (Miss Indiana? Pennsylvania, perhaps?) than the impossibly gorgeous and exotic lust object the libretto is constantly reminding us Thaïs is.

But her singing is mostly strong and accurate — and, for the most part, refreshingly free of the bad habits that earned her the nickname La Scoopenda. The bulk of the role lies in a comfortable soprano mid-range that suits her voice, and she handles many of the higher notes with grace and musicality. Her interpretation of “Dis-moi que je suis belle” at the beginning of Act 2 is a particularly moving and well-sung performance sure to please her fans. She only resorts to screaming at the very end of act 3, where Massenet wrote a repeated phrase escalating to high D (finally settling to a pianissmo high A) that could confound almost any soprano without a superhuman instrument. Even then she hits the correct pitches with at least fifty percent accuracy.

As for acting, the character of Thaïs is so ridiculous – a wanton prostitute (excuse me, “disciple of Venus”) so successful at her trade that the entire community riots when she decides to give it up and join a convent – that the production and Fleming settle for creating a series of Diva Moments rather than trying to make the character seem real.

She mounts a ramp just to sing a single high C, then skitters back down to give Athanael the least romantic kiss seen at the Met since Karita Mattila licked the head of John the Baptist! She caps an aria by hugging herself and beaming adorably as the Met audience showers her with applause! She throws herself on a bed and laughs hysterically — then her laughter turns abruptly to weeping! She cackles; she burns incense; she waves her arms over her head!

Fleming’s musicality is strong enough to transcend this nonsense, but she does seem to have a gay old time playing a singing Theda Bara. However, those perpetual dramatic indulgences are a cinch to make the production more appealing for devotees of camp.

Thomas Hampson sings the role of Athanaël, which offers roughly equal stage time to the soprano part but far less musical or dramatic interest. Athanaël is a bit of a Norman Maine/Stedman Graham role – even when Thaïs is not onstage, he’s always going on about her -- but Hampson sings it beautifully, though perhaps his Athanaël would be more compelling if his singing reflected more of the character’s emotional turmoil. His acting skills are much more problematic, especially in close-up. His dramatic interpretation is limited to two emotions: tormented (this involves brow-furrowing) and boyishly gleeful (“Look, ma, I’m singing!”). Neither facial expression offers much insight into Athanaël’s tortured attempts to reconcile his love of Jesus with his lust for Thaïs.

Concertmaster David Chan offers the musical highlight of the DVD with a brilliant interpretation of the famous violin “Meditation” between the scenes of Act Two. The composition is undoubtedly the most beautiful melody in the opera -- Massenet liked it so much he repeated it almost non-stop for the third act as well -- and Chan gives an emotional performance that traces Thaïs’s difficult journey from the empty glamour of sin to the simplicity of saintly living. The Meditation is the one moment in the entire opera with true emotional resonance; it’s impossible not to be disappointed when it ends and the curtain rises on yet another closeup of Tom Hampson’s scowl.

John Cox’s physical production is a potpourri of Art Deco and period elements – dreadlocks for Athanaël and his fellow monks, Roaring Twenties costumes for Thaïs’s decadent circle of friends. The sets are mostly spare desert scenes or under-furnished interiors with the exception of the palace set in Act 2, a disaster in gold plate (even the palm tree sparkles!) that suggests Brighton Beach more than the banks of the Nile. The Christian Lacroix gowns for Thaïs are the one visually stunning element of the production; even the robe she wears to walk across the desert until her feet bleed is a stylishly draped off-the-shoulder number. Jesus López-Cobos (“my countryman,” Domingo helpfully reminds us in the introduction) conducts a dignified, nuanced reading of the score by the typically excellent Met orchestra.

The only special feature is a compilation of the intermission interviews that aired during the original HD broadcast. We are granted the opportunity to hear Domingo repeatedly pronounce Massenet as though it rhymed with “bassinet,” learn a bit about the costumes, and discover that Fleming is particularly fond of Thaïs’s Act 2 aria because it addresses the uncomfortable but eternal truth that “youth fades.” The (sadistic?) director chooses a tight close-up of the star for this interview, but it must be said that whatever you think about Renée Fleming in Thaïs, the diva looks good.

maury: oh hey look at us

squirrel: sec, coffee. ok

maury: ok

squirrel: sec, waffles,  just kidding,  ha

maury: i would like a waffle.

squirrel: well who would not.  oh hey were you at Brunnhilde auf Naxos last night??

maury: I’m actually listening to an old recording right now  and downloading another old recording.

squirrel: does that have a cleansing effect?

maury: oh, hm.  you shared the prevailing sentiment about last night then?  “About Last Night But Not in That Way” starring Maury and Squirrel: or perhaps “About Last Night” starring Maury and Squirrel But Not in That Way

squirrel: I’m shocked you didn’t use any commas  but mm yes,  testing, testing, is this thing on?

maury: I mean…it’s hard to get around the elephant in the room, the elphant singing tenor.

squirrel: he’s a big boy

maury: The elphant bravely singing tenor with a cold, but…

squirrel: and what about those asswipes in FC booing him?? not really fair.

maury: Let’s just get this out of the way: he left out a big chunk of the role. For anyone who wasn’t listening at home.  (Was it broadcast?)

squirrel: Yes it was.  (  )

maury: in the kingdom of Maurytania, people who boo a cover will be caned or something.  People who boo a sick cover will have to listen to nothing but Olive Middleton evermore.

squirrel: I especially agree about the latter

maury: Did I tell you this old guy tried to enlist me in his outrage by the cancellation billboard downstairs? Like there are all these really great Bacchi standing around not getting their shot.

squirrel: Ha. Yes, at the after party.  Let’s make up fake names for all who attended?

maury: that sounds like work.

squirrel: It wouldnt be fair to drag them into this quagmire.

maury: that is true.

squirrel: Did you like Kim?

squirrel: I’m referring to the Zerbinetta, it’s not a pseudonym for THAT GUY

maury: ha,  Ok.  This feels like the most overloaded question.  Yes, I did.  It wasn’t a Zerbinetta for the ages, but there were some really good things about it.

squirrel: wow you’re kind

maury: See I knew you were going to hate on her, but I feel this is in part because you’re a Damrau loyalist.  But go ahead. Let ‘er rip.

squirrel: well as i was telling “Zeke Walsh” to my left, while having fried calamari and beer…

maury: oh get you with the names.  i was like “I can’t possibly think of names”,  (now listening to Stratas as Komponist)

squirrel: kim reminded me of these sanguine polish waitresses at a bar i went to often in vienna,  they’d flirt with you in lousy german to get bigger tips.

maury: that is so specific.

squirrel: it kinda felt like that.

maury: oh I see your point.  yeah she crossed a line as far as futzing with the music and I wish she wouldn’t do that.  But…  I dunno, do you want a short, tedious paragraph about why I did like her?

squirrel: Well if this is not the space for that, …

maury: right.  Ok so Zerbinetta.  The worst thing that ever happens to her is that she’s played for pure cute.  Like…well for me, Damrau went a ways down this road.  I get all happy when she’s given another dimension, which I usually assume is going to be a little world-weariness.

squirrel: yeah, i mean, it’s written into the role so this is a fair expectation

maury: and Kim didn’t do that.  But there was a certain innocence, and maybe some will have read this as blandness, but for me it still made her Zerb more rounded than some.

squirrel: Oh ok

maury: you’ll concede it was technically quite accomplished except for where you have to swoop up to that one, eh, D I guess?  not the one with the trill.

squirrel: yes but she didn’t sound as polished and secure as in her Olympia,  I’m just not going to like her.

maury: that’s fine.  I’m going to like her reasonably well.

squirrel: what was “Jock Jarboe’s” big problem with the composer? i thought she made a nice impression.

maury: I want to toss in a caveat about everything, which is that more and more, the balance in balc boxes seems to get in the way. Last night I kept hearing so much organ it was like I was at a baseball game or a church service (two situations I have studious avoided in my adult life),  hah.  Jock Jarboe.  You’re killin me

squirrel: oh yeah, i love the organ in the orchestration but it was just a bit much.

maury: it surely wasn’t just the Brit thing.

squirrel: i was expecting, maybe, Also Sprach Zarathustra to break forth

maury: no kiddin!,  so it wasn’t just my balc box.

squirrel: balcony box makes me barf

maury: i’ve always liked them.  nice to see a face now and then.

squirrel: nina stemme seems pretty. I wouldn’t know, I was way up in the squirrel nest

maury: Komponist is a tricky role.  I say this without any reasoning in mind except that someone can sing it very prettily and understandably, as I think Connolly did, and it can still fail to spark.  As, for me, it did a little. I’m listening, as I said, to Stratas singing Komponist and though she’s in kind of craggy voice, she does that recently-post-adolescent yearning thing.  I honestly don’t know how that comes through or doesn’t in any particular perf.  Like porn, I know it when I see it.

squirrel: ha ok

maury: you liked her?,  I hope you liked her.  It’ll be more good cop/bad cop.  Not that I thought she was bad.

squirrel: yes, and thought she was commanding, more or less, in the prologue.

maury: More Hannity/whatsit.  Fair and Balanced,  did she move you on a gut level?  great that sounded gross but.

squirrel: not, mind you, knock everyone else off the stage commanding, but,  hmm, no i did not have to run to the mens room

maury: let’s take another pass at this: did you find her emotionally compelling?

squirrel: these are loaded questions,  the composer has the best text in the prologue, the only stuff that’s not just purely function and/or slapstick, and yes she sold it admirably. It was not loud, but carried up to FC ok.  I found it convincing.

maury: oh yeah, seemed perfectly well Met-sized.  It’s one of my habitual dodges when I don’t want to be negative, but I think I’ll like her better in something else.

squirrel: that’s not negative, that’s just futzy,  sometimes I rearrange my living room

maury: sometimes my arms bend backwards.  do you get up at midnight and stop clocks?

squirrel: not yet

maury: oh right, next year.  isn’t next year your Marschallin Year?

squirrel: let’s not talk about it.

maury: Fair enough!  Hey have you noticed how I haven’t brought up Mentzer?

squirrel: Just did.

maury: I mention my not mentioning Mentzer because I feel like it could be a drinking game.  Everyone do a shot when Maury compares absolutely anyone singing der Komponist to Mentzer.

squirrel: Suzanne Mentzer drinking game? This is going to be all the rage.

maury: and then they all died of alcohol poisoning.

squirrel: Want to make bets on how the Parterre public liked the broadcast?,  I mean, based on the long faces over dinner at our secret Blogger’s Cave….

maury: I mean…we’re going to have to find someone fairly slow to take the “Everyone Loved It!” side of the bet.

squirrel: Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t wager actual cash

maury: maybe not.  so Stemme, yeah.  She’s opera hot or something?

squirrel: I’m unfamiliar with the phrase, but yeah.

maury: Oh, it was originated by the Wellsungs, them what we are blatantly ripping off by indulging in this format.

squirrel: Oh, I should have guessed.

maury: (I feel there should be an acknowledgment)

squirrel: Shout out to wellsungs!

maury: Wellsungs in da house or whatever the kids were saying ten years ago.

squirrel: But others on the internetz to this too, no? I mean, I don’t know.

maury: The thing about Stemme is I lost all track of how she was doing because I was so tense for poor M. Hendrick up there, giving it a good shot but living the nightmare of losing your voice in front of a big house.

squirrel: True, he was croakin’

maury: THE big house.  by which is not intended prison.

squirrel: correct

maury: But Stemme, the voice is major league no?

squirrel: that big, brown, bullhorn of a soprano -- i mean, you can’t not like that. It’s like an enormous roast beef sandwich… oh wait,  now I’m hungry.

maury: urgh.  me too.  dammit.

squirrel: Over dinner at the Blogger Cave, “Ronalan” told me she’s singing Brunnhildes at San Fran?

maury: This is true, I believe.  And “Ronalan” tends to know.  I mean, not to jinx the lady, but there is a little Nilsson color there, is not there?

squirrel: would probably be more apt casting, but I enjoyed the Ariadne anyway,  Yes, good call,  she is an artist and I think not likely to be jinxed by the comparison.  are you a bravo shouter?,  or a whistler?

maury: tracy dahl and her weird voice just sang one of my favorite lines: auf dem Theater spiele ich die Kokette etc.  ,  i shout bravo in a not fully convincing way.  what do you do?

squirrel: same, then i get a little shy

maury: right, same.

squirrel: i need that roast beef sandwich

maury: I shouted “bravi” for the rather deluxe nymphs, and then realized I’d made them into dudes.

squirrel: fair enough, i liked the nymphs.

maury: It was, btw, exciting to hear my pal Anne-Carolyn Bird as Najade, and more exciting to hear her sing it in such a lovely way.  And surrounded by excellent co-nymphs, so yay.

squirrel: those look like dangerous dresses!

maury: ACB says it’s not so scary as it looks.  I wouldn’t want to be up there.  So it’s fortunate I’m neither a talented singer nor a soprano nor even a dame.

squirrel: I’ve always considered that fortunate too, I mean about myself.

maury: ok should we wrap up? I gotta get on a bus headed into a snowstorm.

squirrel: ok in summary,  see this opera, one thumb up?

maury: pretty much.  some stuff will go better, and it remains an iconic and wonderful production and blah blah.

squirrel: oh also petrenko is super good, and I hear very nice guy,  Met, hire the boy!

maury: I felt like it might be a bit singer-unfriendly but you’re a much better judge of conducting.  So you get the last word, except that I just kind of maybe took it.

squirrel: True, he pushed Ms Stemme a little in the languid parts, I don’ think it was unfriendly. He’s a man of the opera house fer sher,  ok

maury: again

squirrel: i could make a joke about the great pumpkin..  but i need a sandwich

maury: yeah i think your stomach has the right idea.  on that note…

squirrel: squirrel out

maury: edit to read “your stomach is good editor “

• Find a radio station
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For those of you who have the budding energy and vigor to engage in the quicksilver thrust and parry of real-time chat, your doyenne suggests you visit La Casa della Cieca.

• The vocal score
• The libretto

The official chat begins at 7:45 pm for an 8:00 curtain. 

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• Libretto
• Vocal score

A rebroadcast of Le nozze di Figaro from January 11, 1958, right now on Bartok Radio, Hungary.

Figaro………………Giorgio Tozzi
Susanna……………..Hilde Güden
Count Almaviva……….George London
Countess Almaviva…….Lisa Della Casa
Cherubino……………Mildred Miller
Dr. Bartolo………….Fernando Corena
Marcellina…………..Regina Resnik
Don Basilio………….Norman Kelley
Antonio……………..Lorenzo Alvary
Barbarina……………Mildred Allen
Don Curzio…………..Gabor Carelli
Peasant……………..Madelaine Chambers
Peasant……………..Helen Vanni

Conductor……………Erich Leinsdorf

So, while you’re getting your radio tubes revarnished or whatever it is you do, put your mind on this, my dears. Shall the chat format this season be the comment-based one we have followed recently (which allows for archiving of the comment thread, and helps out parterre.com’s circulation numbers) or the “instant message” form we used in previous seasons?

Your comments and discussions on this issue will help guide La Cieca in her continued service to her cher public.  The complete broadcast schedule follows.

December 12 (12:30 PM) Puccini: Il Trittico.  Ranzani; Racette, Murphy, Blythe, Licitra, Pirgu, Lucic, Corbelli

December 19.  Offenbach: Les Contes d’Hoffmann .  Levine; Kim, Netrebko, Gubanova, Lindsey, Calleja, Held

December 26.  Strauss: Elektra.  Luisi; Bullock, Voigt, Palmer, Schmidt, Nikitin

January 2 Humperdinck: Hansel and Gretel.  Davis; Persson, Kirchschlager, Plowright, Langridge, Croft

January 9 Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier .  De Waart; Fleming, Graham, Schäfer, Cutler, Allen, Sigmundsson

January 16 Bizet: Carmen .  Nézet-Séguin; Frittoli, Garanca, Alagna, Kwiecien

January 23 Barber: Vanessa (Archive Broadcast from February 1, 1958).  Mitropoulos; Steber, Elias, Resnik, Gedda, Tozzi

January 30 Verdi: Stiffelio.  Domingo; Radvanovsky, Cura, Dobber, Ens

February 6 Verdi: Simon Boccanegra.  Levine; Pieczonka, Giordani, Domingo, Morris

February 13 Donizetti: La Fille du Régiment .  Armiliato; Damrau, Palmer, Te Kanawa, Flórez, Muraro

February 20 Strauss: Ariadne auf Naxos.  Petrenko; Stemme, Kurzak, Connolly, Ryan, Schmeckenbecher

February 27 Puccini: La Bohème .  Armiliato; Netrebko, Cabell, Beczala, Finley, Cavalletti, Gradus, Plishka

March 6 TBA

March 13 Shostakovich: The Nose .  Gergiev; Popov, Gietz, Szot

March 20 Janácek:: From the House of the Dead (performance from Fall 2009).  Salonen; Margita, Streit, Hoare, Mattei, White

March 27 Thomas: Hamlet.  Langrée; Dessay, Larmore, Spence, Keenlyside, Morris

April 3 Verdi: Aida.  Carignani; Papian, Zajick, Licitra, Guelfi, Colombara, Kocán

April 10 Mozart: Die Zauberflöte .  Fischer; Kleiter, Shagimuratova, Polenzani, Gunn, Pittsinger, König

April 17 Verdi: La Traviata .  Slatkin; Gheorghiu, Valenti, Hampson

April 24 Puccini: Tosca .  Levine; Mattila, Kaufmann, Terfel, Del Carlo

May 1 Rossini: Armida .  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

May 8 Berg: Lulu .  Levine; Petersen, von Otter, Lehman, Schade, Pittsinger, Morris.

If Maria Guleghina is going to cancel tonight’s Turandot (following up on “bronchitis” privately announced at the dress where she marked the role) the announcement from the Met should come shortly after 5:00 pm (five minutes from now). If we make it to 5:30 with no announcement, that means for sure she’s going on.

Either way, tonight’s chat about the Turandot broadcast will begin right here at parterre.com at 7:30 pm. Be there!

Obviously you are going to want to chat about some of these broadcasts, so let La Cieca know in the comments which look the most gabworthy.

SEPTEMBER

21  Mon  6:30  Puccini: Tosca. (P)  Levine; Mattila, Álvarez, Gagnidze, Plishka  [Note: Radio broadcast begins at 6:00 with a 30-minute pre-show]

22  Tue  8:00  Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro. (P)  Ettinger; Bell, de Niese, Leonard, Skovhus, Relyea

23  Wed  8:00  Mozart: Die Zauberflöte.  (P)  Labadie; Phillips, Miklósa, Klink, Maltman, Pittsinger, Zeppenfeld

28  Mon  8:00  Puccini: Tosca.  Levine; Mattila, Álvarez, Gagnidze, Plishka

OCTOBER

2  Fri  8:00  Verdi: Aida.  (P)  Gatti; Urmana, Zajick, Botha, Guelfi, Scandiuzzi, Kocán

3  Sat  8:30  Rossini: Il Barbiere di Siviglia. (P)  Benini; DiDonato, Banks, Pogossov, Del Carlo, Anastassov

5  Mon  8:00  Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro.  Ettinger; Bell, de Niese, Leonard, Skovhus, Relyea

6  Tue  8:00  Puccini: Tosca.  Levine; Mattila, Álvarez, Gagnidze, Plishka

8  Thurs  8:00  Rossini: Il Barbiere di Siviglia.  Benini; DiDonato, Banks, Pogossov, Del Carlo, Anastassov

12  Mon  8:00  Verdi: Aida.  Gatti; Urmana, Zajick, Botha, Guelfi, Scandiuzzi, Kocán

13  Tue  7:30  Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier (P)  Levine; Fleming, Graham, Persson, Vargas, Ketelsen, Sigmundsson

14  Wed  8:00  Puccini: Tosca.  Colaneri; Mattila, Álvarez, Gagnidze, Plishka

19  Mon  7:30  Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier. Levine; Fleming, Graham, Persson, Banks, Ketelsen, Sigmundsson

21  Wed  8:00  Verdi: Aida.  Gatti; Urmana, Zajick, Botha, Guelfi, Scandiuzzi, Kocán

23  Fri  8:30  Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust.  (P) Conlon; Borodina, Vargas, Abdrazakov

27  Tue  8:00  Rossini: Il Barbiere di Siviglia.  Benini; DiDonato, Banks, Pogossov, Del Carlo, Anastassov

28  Wed  8:00  Puccini: Turandot.  (P)  Nelsons; Guleghina, Poplavskaya, Giordani, Ramey

30  Fri  8:00  Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust.  Conlon; Borodina, Vargas, Abdrazakov

NOVEMBER

2  Mon  8:00  Verdi: Aida.  Carignani; Urmana, Zajick, Margison, Guelfi, Anastassov, Miller

3  Tue  8:00  Puccini: Turandot.  Nelsons; Guleghina, Poplavskaya, Giordani, Ramey

4  Wed  8:00  Rossini: Il Barbiere di Siviglia.  Benini; DiDonato, Banks, Vassallo, Del Carlo, Scandiuzzi

9  Mon  8:00  Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust.  Conlon; Borodina, Vargas, Abdrazakov

10  Tues  8:00  Puccini: Turandot.  Nelsons; Lindstrom, Poplavskaya, Giordani, Ramey

12  Thurs  8:00  Janácek: From the House of the Dead.  (P)  Salonen; Margita, Streit, Hoare, Mattei, White

16  Mon  8:00  Janácek: From the House of the Dead.  Salonen; Margita, Streit, Hoare, Mattei, White

17  Tue  8:00  Berlioz: La Damnation de Faust.  Conlon; Borodina, Vargas, Abdrazakov

20  Fri  8:00  Puccini: Il Trittico. (P)  Ranzani; Racette, Antonenko, Lucic / Racette, Murphy, Blythe / Racette, Blythe, Pirgu, Corbelli

24  Tue  9:00  Janácek: From the House of the Dead.  Salonen; Margita, Streit, Hoare, Mattei, White

25  Wed  8:00  Puccini: Il Trittico.  Ranzani; Racette, Antonenko, Lucic / Racette, Murphy, Blythe / Racette, Blythe, Pirgu, Corbelli

27  Fri  8:00  Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro.  Luisi; Dasch, Oropesa, Leonard, Tézier, Pisaroni

30  Mon  8:00  Mozart: Le Nozze di Figaro.  Luisi; Dasch, Oropesa, Leonard, Tézier, Pisaroni

DECEMBER

2  Wed  8:00  Janácek: From the House of the Dead.  Salonen; Margita, Streit, Hoare, Mattei, White

3  Thurs  8:00  Offenbach: Les Contes d’Hoffmann. (P)  Levine; Kim, Netrebko, Gubanova, Lindsey, Calleja, Held

10  Thurs  8:00  Strauss: Elektra. (P)  Luisi; Bullock, Voigt, Palmer, Schmidt, Nikitin

11  Fri  8:00  Offenbach: Les Contes d’Hoffmann.  Levine; Kim, Netrebko, Gubanova, Lindsey, Calleja, Held

12  Sat  12:30  Puccini: Il Trittico.  Ranzani; Racette, Licitra, Lucic / Racette, Murphy, Blythe / Racette, Blythe, Pirgu, Corbelli

14  Mon  8:00  Humperdinck: Hansel and Gretel. (P)  Davis; Persson, Kirchschlager, Plowright, Langridge, Croft

15  Tue  8:00  Strauss: Elektra.  Luisi; Bullock, Voigt, Palmer, Schmidt, Nikitin

19  Sat  1:00  Offenbach: Les Contes d’Hoffmann.  Levine; Kim, Netrebko, Gubanova, Lindsey, Calleja, Held

21  Mon  11:00  Humperdinck: Hansel and Gretel.  Davis; Persson, Kirchschlager, Plowright, Langridge, Croft

23  Wed  8:00  Offenbach: Les Contes d’Hoffmann.  Keenan; Kim, Netrebko, Gubanova, Lindsey, Calleja, Held

26  Sat  1:00  Strauss: Elektra.  Luisi; Bullock, Voigt, Palmer, Schmidt, Nikitin

30  Wed  8:00  Offenbach: Les Contes d’Hoffmann.  Keenan; Kim, Netrebko, Gubanova, Lindsey, Calleja, Held

31  Thurs  6:30  Bizet: Carmen. (P)  Nézet-Séguin; Frittoli, Garanca, Alagna, Kwiecien

JANUARY

2  Sat  1:00  Humperdinck: Hansel and Gretel.  Davis; Persson, Kirchschlager, Plowright, Langridge, Croft

6  Wed  7:30  Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier. Levine; Fleming, Graham, Schäfer, Cutler, Allen, Sigmundsson

7  Thur  8:00  Puccini: Turandot.  Nelsons; Guleghina, Kovalevska, Webb, Tian

9  Sat  1:00  Strauss: Der Rosenkavalier. Levine; Fleming, Graham, Schäfer, Cutler, Allen, Sigmundsson

11  Mon  8:00  Verdi: Stiffelio.  (P)  Domingo; Marambio, Cura, Dobber, Ens

12  Tue  8:00  Bizet: Carmen.  Nézet-Séguin; Frittoli, Garanca, Alagna, Kwiecien

16  Sat  1:00  Bizet: Carmen.  Nézet-Séguin; Frittoli, Garanca, Alagna, Kwiecien

18  Mon  8:00  Verdi: Simon Boccanegra.  (P)  Levine; Pieczonka, Giordani, Domingo, Morris

20  Wed  8:00  Puccini: Turandot.  Nelsons; Guleghina, Kovalevska, Licitra, Tian

21  Thurs  8:00  Bizet: Carmen.  Nézet-Séguin; Frittoli, Garanca, Alagna, Kwiecien

23  Sat  1:00  Barber: Vanessa (from February 1, 1958)  Mitropoulos; Steber, Elias, Resnik, Gedda, Tozzi [Archival broadcast]

25  Mon  8:00  Verdi: Simon Boccanegra.  Levine; Pieczonka, Giordani, Domingo, Morris

28  Thur  8:00  Puccini: Turandot.  Salemkour; Lindstrom, Doronzio, Porretta, Tian

30  Sat  1:00  Verdi: Stiffelio.  Domingo; Marambio, Cura, Dobber, Ens

FEBRUARY

1  Mon  8:00  Bizet: Carmen.  Altinoglu; Kovalevska, Borodina, Jovanovich, Kwiecien

2  Tue  8:00  Verdi: Simon Boccanegra.  Levine; Pieczonka, Giordani, Domingo, Morris

4  Thurs  8:00  Strauss: Ariadne auf Naxos (P)  Petrenko; Stemme, Kim, Connolly, Ryan, Schmeckenbecher

6  Sat  1:00  Verdi: Simon Boccanegra.  Levine; Pieczonka, Giordani, Domingo, Morris

8  Mon  8:00  Strauss: Ariadne auf Naxos.  Petrenko; Stemme, Kim, Connolly, Ryan, Schmeckenbecher

9  Tue  8:00  Bizet: Carmen.  Altinoglu; Kovalevska, Borodina, Jovanovich, Rhodes

13  Sat  1:00  Donizetti: La Fille du Régiment.  Armiliato; Damrau, Palmer, Te Kanawa, Flórez, Muraro 

16  Tue  8:00  Donizetti: La Fille du Régiment.  Armiliato; Damrau, Palmer, Te Kanawa, Flórez, Muraro 

20  Sat  1:00  Strauss: Ariadne auf Naxos.  Petrenko; Stemme, Kim, Connolly, Ryan, Schmeckenbecher

22  Mon  8:00  Donizetti: La Fille du Régiment.  Armiliato; Damrau, Palmer, Te Kanawa, Flórez, Muraro

24  Wed  8:00  Puccini: La Bohème. Armiliato; Netrebko, Cabell, Beczala, Finley, Cavalletti, Gradus, Plishka

27  Sat  1:00  Puccini: La Bohème. Armiliato; Netrebko, Cabell, Beczala, Finley, Cavalletti, Gradus, Plishka

MARCH

1  Mon  8:00  Rossini: Il Barbiere di Siviglia.  Benini; Damrau, Brownlee, Vassallo, Muraro, Ramey

2  Tues  8:00  Puccini: La Bohème. Armiliato; Netrebko, Cabell, Beczala, Finley, Cavalletti, Gradus, Plishka

5  Fri  8:00  Shostakovich: The Nose. (P)  Gergiev; Popov, Gietz, Szot

6  Sat  1:00  BROADCAST TBD

10  Wed  8:00  Puccini: La Bohème. Armiliato; Netrebko, Swenson, Beczala, Petean, Carfizzi, Gradus, Plishka

13  Sat  1:00  Shostakovich: The Nose.  Gergiev; Popov, Gietz, Szot

14  Sun  3:00  RECORDING: National Council Auditions

16  Tue  8:00  Thomas: Hamlet. (P)  Langrée: Dessay, Larmore, Spence, Keenlyside, Morris

17  Wed  8:00  Puccini: La Bohème. Armiliato; Netrebko, Swenson, Beczala, Petean, Cavalletti, Gradus, Plishka

18  Thurs  8:00  Shostakovich: The Nose.  Gergiev; Popov, Gietz, Szot

20  Sat  1:00  Janácek: From the House of the Dead.  (from Fall 2009)  Salonen; Margita, Streit, Hoare, Mattei, White

23  Tue  8:00  Shostakovich: The Nose.  Gergiev; Popov, Gietz, Szot

24  Wed  8:00  Thomas: Hamlet.  Langrée: Dessay, Larmore, Spence, Keenlyside, Morris

27  Sat  1:00  Thomas: Hamlet.  Langrée: Dessay, Larmore, Spence, Keenlyside, Morris

29  Mon  8:00  Verdi: La Traviata. (P) Slatkin; Gheorghiu, Valenti, Hampson

30  Tue  8:00  Thomas: Hamlet.  Langrée: Dessay, Larmore, Spence, Keenlyside, Morris

APRIL

3  Sat  1:00  Verdi: Aida.  Carignani; Papian, Zajick, Licitra, Guelfi, Colombara, Kocán

5  Mon  8:00  Thomas: Hamlet.  Langrée: Dessay, Larmore, Spence, Keenlyside, Morris

7  Wed  8:00  Verdi: La Traviata. Slatkin; Gheorghiu, Valenti, Hampson

10  Sat  1:00  Mozart: Die Zauberflöte.  Fischer; Kleiter, Shagimuratova, Polenzani, Gunn, Pittsinger, König

12  Mon  8:00  Rossini: Armida (P)  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

15  Thur  8:00  Mozart: Die Zauberflöte.  Nadler; Kleiter, Shagimuratova, Polenzani, Pogossov, Pittsinger, König

16  Fri  8:00  Rossini: Armida.  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

17  Sat  1:00  Verdi: La Traviata. Slatkin; Gheorghiu, Valenti, Hampson

19  Mon  8:00  Rossini: Armida.  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

23  Fri  8:00  Wagner: Der fliegende Holländer.  Ono; Voigt, Gould, Uusitalo, König

24  Sat  1:00  Puccini: Tosca.  Levine; Mattila, Kaufmann, Terfel, Del Carlo

27  Tue  8:00  Rossini: Armida.  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

28  Wed  8:00  Bizet: Carmen.  Altinoglu; Kovalevska, Gheorghiu, Kaufmann, Kwiecien

MAY

1  Sat  1:00  Rossini: Armida.  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

3  Mon  8:00  Wagner: Der fliegende Holländer.  Ono; Voigt, Gould, Uusitalo, König

5  Wed  8:00  Puccini: Tosca.  Auguin; Dessì, Giordani, Gagnidze, Plishka

8  Sat  1:00  Berg: Lulu.  Levine; Petersen, von Otter, Lehman, Schade, Pittsinger, Morris

10  Mon  8:00  Wagner: Der fliegende Holländer.  Ono; Voigt, Gould, Uusitalo, König

11  Tues  8:00  Rossini: Armida.  Frizza; Fleming, Brownlee, Ford, Zapata, Banks, van Rensburg

12  Wed  8:00  Berg: Lulu.  Levine; Petersen, von Otter, Lehman, Schade, Pittsinger, Morris

Following is the schedule for the Sunday afternoon/evening listening/viewing marathon. Chat away in the comments section, cher public!

Noon: Tosca (Broadcast January 7, 1956).

2:30 pm: Don Carlo (Broadcast March 7, 1964).

5:30 pm: Die Walküre (Broadcast December 2, 1944).

9:00 pm: Otello (Telecast September 25, 1978).

La Cieca’s Amazon Deal of the Day: Puccini – The Great Opera Collection, prices as low as $28.51.

Metropolitan Opera House
March 30, 1963 Matinee Broadcast

LA SONNAMBULA

Amina: Joan Sutherland
Elvino: Nicolai Gedda
Rodolfo: Ezio Flagello
Lisa: Jeanette Scovotti
Teresa: Lili Chookasian
Alessio: John Macurdy
Notary: Andrea Velis

Conductor: Silvio Varviso

Cher public, here’s the schedule for group listening/viewing of the MetPlayer on Saturday and Sunday:

On Saturday, May 2:

Noon: Cavalleria rusticana/Pagliacci (Telecast April 5, 1978).

3:00 pm: La sonnambula (Broadcast March 30, 1963).

On Sunday, May 3:

Noon: Tosca (Broadcast January 7, 1956).

2:30 pm: Don Carlo (Broadcast March 7, 1964).

5:30 pm: Die Walküre (Broadcast December 2, 1944).

9:00 pm: Otello (Telecast September 25, 1978).

All times are EDT. Check back at parterre.com for chat postings at the respective start times.

Remember, the MetPlayer preview starts today at 5:00 pm. La Cieca suggests you go to metplayer.org sometime this evening to set up your preview membership. If you have any recommendations of particular “finds” on the site, please let La Cieca and your fellow cher public know!

As if we ever “came to order” around here! But anyway, La Cieca is throwing the floor open for a Listening and Viewing Orgy next weekend, when the MetPlayer will offer a three-day free preview. MetPlayer offers streaming of over 200 Met broadcasts and telecasts from 1937 to the present, including 20 in HD.  The free preview will begin at 5:00 pm EST on Friday, May 1.

So what La Cieca has in mind is to select via popular vote somewhere between three and five of the MetPlayer selections, then schedule times for everyone to tune in together to each of the chosen operas. Those who gather can chat about the performances and whatever else here at parterre.com.

So, in the comments section below, nominate your favorite performances from the MetPlayer catalog, along with a sentence or two explaining why this performance would make for an interesting group experience.  We’ll vote on the nominees later this week.

UPDATE: Here are complete instructions on how to log in to MetPlayer for this weekend-long free preview.

And now, the last installment of the Met’s broadcast Ring: Götterdämmerung.

Listen at noon EDT on Sirius, RealNetworks or your favorite internet radio station.

Online: the libretto and the vocal score.

Discuss.

And don’t forget to check out La Cieca’s Amazon Deal of the Day: Hans Knappertsbusch conducts Der Ring Des Nibelungen (Bayreuth 1956), prices starting as low as $38.68.

A sharp-eyed member of the cher public writes:

I attended a performance of Damnation of Faust (with a magnificent Polenzani and Ketelsen) in St. Louis this past Saturday night. When I arrived, there was Christine Brewer in the lobby looking quite well. No cane, no walker, no crutches, no limp, no nothing. I walked up to her and said “sure missed you on the Siegfried broadcast today, how are you?” She replied “I’m just fine” and winked.  

Backstage after the performance the same exchange happened around a dozen times between Ms. Brewer and several others. I watched her for a while and I could detect nothing that indicated a serious knee injury. I was inclined to believe the knee injury story to be quite honest but after seeing her on Saturday I must admit I have my doubts.

Speaking of questions nobody ever asked, here’s La Cieca’s Deal of the Day: Lohengrin starring Klaus Florian Vogt, Solveig Kringelborn, Hans-Peter König, Waltraud Meier, Tom Fox, Roman Trekel; Opéra National de Lyon; Deutsches Symphonie-Orchester Berlin. Conducted by Kent Nagano and directed by Nikolaus Lehnhoff. Priced as low as $32.55.

The Met broadcasts Wagner’s Siegfried this afternoon. Discuss.

Listen at noon EDT on Sirius or RealNetworks or your favorite internet radio station.

Online: the libretto and the vocal score.

And check out La Cieca’s Amazon Deal of the Day: the complete 1953 Bayreuth Ring conducted by Clemens Krauss, priced as low as $39.87!

The Met broadcasts Wagner’s Die Walküre this afternoon, featuring Iréne Theorin‘s Brünnhilde. Discuss.

Listen at noon EDT on Sirius, RealNetworks or on the Metropolitan Opera International Broadcast network. (More streaming radio stations may be found at operacast.com.)

Online you will also find the libretto and a vocal score to this music drama.

Good Friday

You can pull the fork out of Madame Vera Galupe-Borszkh, because, believe it or not, she’s still not done. How, you ask, can that be? Well, according to an email received by La Cieca this morning,

In the tradition of many great divas who pack it in, only to unpack, Madame Vera emerged from retirement last summer for a recital at Tanglewood at the invitation of Maestro James Levine. Her artistry was greeted with the kind of ecstatic response that only encourages divas of a certain age.

Thus emboldened, the legendary “traumatic soprano” indulged a whim (and who better to do so?), and booked the Peter Norton Symphony Space at the Leonard Nimoy Thalia here in New York City.  Following the lead of such visionary opera impresarios as George Steel, Madame Vera will limit her exposure to a mini-season of three nights, May 27, 29 and 30.

La Dementia is joined by Maestro Sergio Zawa (Lucy Arner) for a lavish evening of treasures from their repertoire, including scenes from Madama Butterfly, La traviata, and L’Italiana in Algeri, plus songs by Schubert, Strauss and Liszt. The cup overfloweth with the inclusion of Madame’s hilarious treatise on “Modern Music” composed by Richard Burke.  Sharing the (surely vast) stage with Madame will be special guest diva Carmelita della Vaca Browne (Johnny Maldonado).

Madame Vera’s creator and alter ego is, of course, Ira Siff, weekly commentator on the Metropolitan Opera broadcasts.

Concert donné le 28 février 2009 à l’Opéra Bastille à Paris, en simultané avec l’Union européenne de radios. Rolando Villazon : Werther, poète; Ludovic Tézier : Albert, jeune homme; Alain Vernhes : Le Magistrat; Christian Jean : Schmidt, ami du magistrat; Christian Tréguier : Johann, ami du magistrat; Susan Graham : Charlotte, fille du magistrat; Adriana Kucerova : Sophie, sa soeur. Orchestre de l’Opéra National de Paris. Maîtrise des Hauts de Seine. Choeur d’Enfants de l’Opéra National de Paris; Direction : Kent Nagano.

Listing from Operacast.

Discussion of the first afternoon of the Met’s broadcast Ring cycle. (Illustration from P. Craig Russell‘s Ring of the Nibelung graphic novel.)

Anyone listening to “The Pizza Boy Always Delivers Twice” tonight? La Cieca has just logged on in time for Alfio’s entrance, which means Waltraud Meier has a good deal of singing coming up in the next half hour or so.

La Cieca (not pictured) invites you, cher public, to listen to the broadcast of the Met’s 125th Anniversary Gala (on Sirius or RealNetworks) and comment to your heart’s content!

The (projected) program is availabe as a pdf from the Met’s website.

La Cieca invites you to join guest host Sanford and the cher public for a friendly little webchat tonight, March 2, 2009 during the broadcast on Sirius and RealNetworks of Bellini’s La sonnambula live from the Metropolitan Opera.

Please check back at parterre.com at 7:45 PM to access the chat login screen.

I have always believed that as with La Gioconda, a great performance of Adriana Lecouvreur needs to serve up “the four greatest singers in the world”, and the Met seems to come close to doing just that. I have attended all of the performances thus far and Friday night was my third visit to this revival.

Placido Domingo‘s voice remains a steady and well produced instrument with a slight decline in volume and breadth of line and a somewhat more pronounced vibrato. What was once a silver sheen to the voice has bronzed, but by Act 4 when he allowed himself to sing out fully the sound made any of the current crop of rising tenors pale in comparison. Every note he sang was carefully measured and calibrated for maximum impact and it was a strong vocal showing, even in transposed keys.

Controversial to some, his transposition of large sections of music did not bother me. I did find it a bit cruel to make Maria Guleghina sing in an uncomfortably low register in their Act 1 scena, but my opinion is it’s better to have Domingo as Maurizio in a lower key than not to have him at all. The two of them make a very sexy couple and their was a serious passion between them. 

The role doesn’t require much acting from Domingo, and so he did not act much. At least he knows how to carry a performance based on charisma and commitment. He was definitely dignified and involved if a bit surface and stiff (perhaps criticism that could be said of many of his roles). He also received a full standing ovation (at least on Orchestra level) at his final solo curtain call.

These days Guleghina is comfortable exploring an earthy sexuality in her characterizations – Santuzza, Lady Macbeth, Norma – and unlike the last two of those roles she finds herself in comfortable ground vocally and emotionally with Adriana.  She presents a non-diva Diva – at her entrance she is the consummate artist working to perfect her craft, chummy with everyone backstage, enjoying adulation but wanting to include everyone in her glory. The new harem pants outfit with a cape was effective too. She saved the big time histrionics for the end of Acts 2 and 3, and both confrontations involved the rivals circling each other like cats in pre-revolutionary gowns – a camp fest par excellence!

I expect to be chastised for this – but I really liked her singing. The Times piece pointed out flaws that were miniscule – I only noted a couple of “hard edged” notes and certainly nothing “grainy”. True she doesn’t have the other-worldly pianissimi of Caballe, but especially at Friday’s performance she kept the voice scaled down when necessary, achieved some exciting diminuendo and crescendo effects, and “Poveri fiori” was quite hypnotic. There aren’t many “wall of sound” sopranos out there today who can almost physically make you feel the power of their voices at maximum volume, and when she let’s loose I get a thrill like no other.

Those who criticize her voice from listening to Sirius broadcasts please take note: hers is a voice that needs to “bloom” in the house – quite the opposite of what was once said about Barbra Streisand – this isn’t “a voice the microphone loves”. In the correct rep she is marvelous, and she remains an audience favorite.

Olga Borodina scores big as the Principessa. Every aspect of her dramatic mezzo is shown off to the fullest here. One or two spread high notes aside her voice remains voluptuous, and she ripped through “Acerba volutta” and her confrontations with Adriana at full steam. And she looked gorgeous and regal in the new period gowns created for her for this revival. She has a quality I used to see in Tatiana Troyanos: no matter what role she is in there is a strong sense of mystery about her that always makes her fascinating and intriguing onstage.

Roberto Frontali is an introspective and caring Michonnet with voice to spare in the part. His solos aren’t as demonstrative as those given the other principals, but he brings the same lovely quality of warmth that I saw in La Traviata and Luisa Miller to a peak here, and it makes me curious to see what he will do with Rigoletto this coming April.

I won’t be cruel about the sets since they debuted with Domingo 40 years ago, but wisely this revival has stripped and scaled down the old production using only pieces of the tattered sets supplemented by rear projections in 3 of the 4 Acts (curiously the old painted drop is used for the palace of the Prince de Bouillon and it only reminds us of how horrible it looked 14 years ago when the opera was revived for Freni). It kind of works in a college-workshop-1980′s sort of way, but Act 4 is a joke; a rear projection of abstract “violets” and 4 pieces of furniture at opposite sides of the large stage – a table and chair, a free standing fireplace, and what I guess is a bed dead center of the living room.

Direction by Mark Lamos is at once workmanlike and amateurish (why does Adriana have to put out 40 CANDLES before the Princess comes out of the back room??) but the artists avail themselves well with their understanding of the roles.

Marco Armiliato gave a nice reading of the score, comfortable tempos for the singers, and a very sensitive reading of the prelude to Act 4. Comparatively speaking this is a much more successful revival than what they did in 1994 and that is mainly due to the quartet of singers in the leading roles.

Fans of verismo might want to catch this revival before the run is over because it might be more than a decade before a comparable cast can be assembled. My new best friend is the Met Weekend Lottery (I’ve won it 3 times so far) and Adriana should be available again for $25 on Saturday, February 28. – Little Stevie

Piotr Beczala will sing Edgardo in Donizetti’s Lucia di Lammermoor on Saturday, February 7 at 1:00 p.m. for the Met’s broadcast and HD telecast, replacing Rolando Villazón who is ill.

One of La Cieca’s most trusted spies wangled his way into the house last night for the surprise cast change in Lucia di Lammermoor, and here’s his report:

Perhaps it is the side benefit of low expectations, but I was not offended by Anna Netrebko‘s performance on Tuesday night. Though certainly not a bel canto stylist or supreme technician, she gave a glamorously sung and winningly acted performance that had star quality. Not the best Lucia I have seen by a long shot but far from the worst. (I have heard Edita Gruberova, June Anderson, Sumi Jo, Martile Rowland, Ruth Ann Swenson, Young-Ok Shin, Mariella Devia, Andrea Rost, Elizabeth Futral, Olga Makarina and others in the part).

Here is the lowdown: the voice is getting back in shape as the run progresses. The tone is full and rich and the top up to D flat is secure. Occasionally she lost breath or focus on soft held notes but she also got stronger as the evening progressed and had enough stamina to do a serviceable if unambitious and unimaginative Mad Scene. For the record: she sang a good high D at the end of “Quando rapita in estasi.” There were trills in “Regnava nel silenzio” on “di sangue rosseggio” but they may have been cleverly faked by pointing up the vibrato – I would need the tape to be sure however. No trills in the first act cabaletta but some more tiny little trills in the Mad Scene. The “Regnava” benefited from her dark, covered timbre and the runs were accurate enough but a few piano tones lost focus. 

These problems disappeared in Act II which played to her strengths. The duet with Enrico showed her pouring on the tone and playing Lucia as a strong, willful young woman. Netrebko was moving in “Soffriva nel pianto” (sung supine on the floor a la her Puritani mad scene) again the dark color gave a tragic mood. Netrebko dominated the sextet easily with penetrating tone. She sang thrilling high D’s galore in the second act and the audience was enthusiastic.

The mad scene was something of a letdown — but not a disaster. Basically she can sing the runs fairly accurately but without real brilliance. Both Damrau and Dessay found more interesting interpretive choices and both were more imaginative in finding psychological angles and a gestural vocabulary for the vocalise sections. The other downer was that she chose the traditional Mathilde Marchesi cadenza after “Ardon l’Incensi” but omitted the e-flat at the conclusion, nor did she take one at the end of “Spargi d’amaro pianto”. The traditional cadenza sets one up for high notes that don’t arrive and doesn’t play to Netrebko’s strengths. (An amplified glass harmonica is used but doubled with flute for the cadenza.) Whatever cadenza Philip Gossett wrote for her, I didn’t hear it.

For the record, Dessay didn’t sing the traditional cadenza but sang a new one that was closely aligned with her acting and only sang the e-flat at the end of the “Spargi” (it was a pitched scream). Both Annick Massis and Diana Damrau sang the traditional cadenza and very well with both e-flats. Of the four sopranos I have seen in this production Netrebko is the least interesting from a dramatic standpoint. Basically she starts out as a standard romantic ingenue in Act I, is a spunky rebellious spitfire in Act II but the madness comes from nowhere. Everything looked and sound fairly attractive but the interpretation seemed applied and not organic. Dessay was much better at showing the fragility, emotional stress and mood swings that could lead to madness. Netrebko is not the neurasthenic type and would need a strong director on hand to bring that out.

For the record, despite the weight gain Anna is still very pretty – you can almost tell she has a little mommy pouch but the Victorian corsets and bustles pull her in nicely and she still cuts a glamorous figure. She may also have forgone some dinners out with Erwin at Fiorellos and dropped a few kilos.

I think Anna’s confidence was helped by the fact that she didn’t have to work with a tenor on the verge of a vocal breakdown. Giuseppe Filianoti was not the Edgardo of his glorious debut of 2005 but he also wasn’t the vocal basket case as heard in last year’s spring broadcast of Lucia with Dessay. The tone does turn shallow and pressed and he sings the passaggio too open (as does Rolando) but the voice was bright and ringing for the most part. Filianoti has wonderful musical instincts in shaping phrases, pointing the text as only an Italian can. He can give light and shade to phrases by alternating soft and strong attacks to give chiaroscuro effects to the line. Expressive and generous, his applause at the end of “Fra poco me ricovero” was louder and more enthusiastic than Netrebko’s for her mad scene. However Anna did get a big hand at the end.

Mariusz Kwiecien still has handsome tone but overshot a note in his first aria by oversinging and barking. He confuses shouting with menace and would benefit from an iron hand in a velvet glove approach. Not every villian is snarling and shouting – look at the suave but deadly George Sanders (who did sing and could have been a great Scarpia). Ildar Abdrazakov has a nice cantante bass-baritone sound that has more juice and nap than Relyea’s right now.

Marco Armiliato conducted well but rather indulgently for his singers. Good ensemble but no great insights. Frankly Anna could use a stronger hand in the pit and should use a different edition and approach to the music. Armiliato is too much the traditionalist to bring out what she has to offer.

I have seen Andrea Rost sing Lucia from the autograph version with Mackerras in the pit and that approach can work very well. Netrebko sang more a verismo or Verdian Lucia (with a slavic accent) in the traditional mode but without the high notes. I like dark, full lyric Lucias and also dramatic coloratura Lucias in the Callas mode. (La Divina wasn’t the only fuller dark Lucia of the 1950′s – Anna Moffo is gorgeous in a 1959 RAI film and Virginia Zeani has glorious pirate tapes.) Katia Ricciarelli also takes the authentic approach in a Bregenz performance from the early eighties and scores a lot of dramatic points while showing Lucia as being a dramatic Romantic opera in the vein of Donizetti’s Maria Stuarda, Lucrezia Borgia and Maria di Rohan rather than a canary showcase.

Had Netrebko opted to explore the work more thoroughly from a musicological, dramatic and stylistic viewpoint, she might make her own personal statement in the part and find a better match of her strengths to the roles demands. However that kind of intellectual approach is not her way so one must enjoy the beauty, lush tone, physical abandon and dramatic commitment and ignore the fine musical and dramatic details. If you love the woman and the voice, you are happy to do so. If not, well stay home and listen to Devia and Callas. — Gualtier Maldè

“Act 3 was a mixed bag. The opening showed Villazon in much better form, with solid phrasing. The Mad Scene started out beautiful, Netrebko spinning out haunting legato. She was completely involved and engaged. Then she fell apart at the flute solo, sounding under supported and wavering off pitch dangerously. She never recovered through the end of the scene. She sounded as if she had just run out of energy and attempted no high note, which may have been a blessing. Villazon ended the show beautiful, showing us what he can sound like — though there were two large cracks. The voice was nonetheless much more secure. Kwiecien was by far the best thing about the show, displaying a healthy voice and fantastic acting from beginning to end. His was the only stellar performance. Also, if I am not mistaken, which having sung this scene before I am quite sure I am not, the whole Act 3 scene was taken down a whole step.”

“You were not wrong to sign off when you did — Act II was the high point by far in all respects.  With my wretched Blackberry no longer impeding my thoughts, I’ll thus conclude — Act III featured the most extensive and most exposed singing of our poor Rolando, and his near-miss on the Act II A was repeated on a couple other notes — though he did hit notes of equally difficulty without incident.  Maybe he’s just that good an actor, but peering at him through my binoculars, I really did feel at the beginning of the last scene as though he were in mourning for himself.  I’m too sad for him to be any more critical — though the incredible energy he displaying during the curtain may prove my theory wrong.  Netrebko’s mad scene certainly lacked the bel canto qualities one expects, but her singing was secure — with the exception of the last note, where she paused before dropping down.”

“Well, first off there were no Ebs to miss in the Mad Scene because there were no Ebs, which was probably a good thing because any time Netrebko went above a C?(I don’t have the ear or knowledge of the score that other members of your public have but let just say anything “high”), it was shaky or abandoned, one time rather awkwardly. Other than that omission/decision, which resulted in a bit of a shock I think at the end of the scene, it was a nicely sung, although rather un-”bel canto” Mad Scene. Villazon had some small problems during the Wolf’s Crag scene that he compensated for by just backing off. Same during the final scene. His first aria (“Fra poco…”) was actually nice, although I am guessing based on posts from the other night that it was indeed transposed down, and frankly if I hadn’t heard Bezcala do such a beautiful, powerful rendition of this two months ago I might
not have noticed it was lacking. And at the end he sang all the “Bel Alma”‘s which was an improvement over Monday as well. I would say that it is unlikely either will be replaced. Netrebko seemed to be getting her legs back and by next Saturday will probably be just fine for the
broadcast, although not terribly exciting. Villazon just can’t sing full out for long periods of time. But it didn’t sound like phlegm was the issue tonight. The response to both Anna and Rolando was huge from
the crowd, proving that to the majority of today’s opera fans (at the Met at least), these performances are about what people expect or are looking for. My personal recommendations for the HD broadcast would be to tell people to turn off their *#$&(% cell phones (there were at
least five loud rings tonight, including one phone that must have belonged to the patron who dropped their hearing aid on the floor in family circle, it was deafening) and also to consider looking to the
covers for the trumpet players because the first fanfare of the opera is seemingly beyond whomever was attempting to play it last night and Monday. Also could Colin Lee please do double duty a la Plishka in Boheme and sing the role of Normanno as well as Arturo. Michael Myers seriously needs a microphone. It is ridiculous and just starts the whole night off on a bad foot.”