I really wished to avoid joining the pig pile of derision that has fallen on SF Opera’s premiere of John Adams and Peter Sellars’ Girls of the Golden West.
I’ve been picking away yet again at the mysterious symbiosis between an opera’s words and its music.
It is not easy for an opera company to follow a spectacular production of La Traviata with Massenet’s Manon.
There is a slight chill in the air during the final minutes of La Traviata.
You’ve got your “Night in the Museum,”and your “It’s All In Her Head” and your “Pantomimes of Childhood Trauma” and that’s all before halftime.
Brian Jagde‘s creative and charismatic Calaf was almost enough to make up for his counterpart Martina Serafin’s distant portrayal of Turandot.
Samantha Hankey, so impressive as Diana and Giove-in-Diana in Juilliard’s recent run of Cavalli’s La Calisto, was the perfect Cenerentola.
Anna Caterina Antonacci delivered a tour de force of French diction, subtlety of phrasing, variation of vocal timbre, and white-hot stage acting.
Isn’t it inspiring how deeply Francesca Zambello has sunk her tentacles into the heart of American opera?
San Francisco Opera in 2017-2018 presents the Ring cycle, a new John Adams/Peter Sellars collaboration called Girls of the Golden West, plus new productions of Elektra (Christine Goerke, Stephanie Blythe, Adrianne Pieczonka) and Manon (Nadine Sierra, Michael Fabiano.)
It is a good rule of thumb that if you emerge from a massive grand opera like Aida feeling any less than overwhelmed, you have a right to be somewhat disappointed.
In one important respect, a great production of Puccini resembles a great production of Wagner.
The entire action is set at a cocktail party at the Taylor-Burtons’ circa 1971
Janácek’s disconcerting commentary on youth and immortality received a full-throated performance.
This may be Karita Mattila’s greatest role.
That little place just two hours from the city is on the list of things I shall never understand, like the plot of Parsifal.
The big news on Van Ness Avenue, it goes without saying, is Calixto Bieito’s operatic debut on these shores.
I grew up with the Anna Moffo recording of Luisa Miller, so it was fortuitous that the Met gave the premiere of a new production in 1968, around the time RCA released the album.
When it comes to throwing shade, Latrice Royale herself must surely yield her crown to the queen who made a contribution to the Rentboy.com Legal Defense Fund “In honor of David Gockley and San Francisco Opera’s production of Gordon Getty‘s Usher House.”
Edgar Allan Poe’s The Fall of the House of Usher is heavy on macabre atmosphere and light on action.
Emilio Sagi’s production of The Barber of Seville is ungepotchket in the flesh.
Die Meistersinger is a bold stroke of programming, in a not particularly exciting way.
San Francisco Opera yesterday announced its third major cast change in five days.