LA Opera's Das Rheingold (combined)

L.A. Opera's Das Rheingold is one of the best productions of any opera I have ever seen. Period. Absolutely Fantastic.Now, I should mention that Rheingold is probably my favorite opera (at least it has been for the past few years). This is the fourth production of it I've attended and I've watched four versions of it on DVD. This one is the best. It is not without flaws, but this is the real deal- the combination of dramatic theater and music that Wagner intended to create, albeit for a 21st Century audience. My impression is that this Ring, if it stays consistent over the remaining parts, will take its place alongside Chereau's centenary Bayreuth production in redrawing the boundaries of how the work can be presented to contemporary audiences.

In other words, there are going to be haters, but let them pine for horned helmets while the rest of us follow opera into a new era.Achim Freyer made a bold choice by making the central character Loge rather than Wotan and it pays handsomely. Wotan's role is not diminshed, but rather he is portrayed as being trapped by his own decisions to the point where he is immobile for most of the evening while Loge is the prime mover on the stage. I've never seen it presented this way, but it made complete sense, aided tremendously by Loge's four-handed devil outfit nicely contrasted with Wotan's Hellraiser-inspired one-eyed god/ goon encased in an elaborate box of his own creation.


Arnold Bezeyun gave an amzing performance with precise diction and elegant phrasing. As the gods pose and pontificate, he acts- and he steals the show in the same way Heath Ledger owned the Dark Knight whenever he was onscreen.Also contributing stellar performances were Gordon Hwakins as Alberich and Graham Clark as Mime. It's saying something that these were really the standout performances of the evening. Vitilaj Kowaljow's Wotan was reserved in the beginning but it suited the presentation.


In this production, Wotan is a witness to the crime he plotted, but is forced to into a certain passivity by the events he set in motion. He has upset the balance and lacks any power to set things right, though we know he's going to spend the next ten hours trying.Women are chattel here, with the exception of Erda. Fricka stands to the side for most of the evening, outstreched arms in a mock presentation of the action unfolding right before her as if to say "but what could I have done with such a man?" She is only a spectator to the disaster befalling her family. Freia is a freak show, the gods tethered to her golden apples via a blood-red umbilical cord. The Rheinmaidens, the evening's only real disapointment in the vocal department, were interesting to watch as their reflections in the water appeared beneath them in human form, but are presented as objects of fanstasy rather than lust.And it did the hardest part right! When Alberich turned into the dragon it was actually a really cool effect rather than the cheesy bit of stage whiz or lame projection usually presented.


There are so many intriguing things here that I wish I could go back to L.A. and see it at least one more time. The dual Wotan identities made sense. The violence of Fasolt's death, while producing chuckles in its execution, was chilling to contemplate- the next performances should get it to the point where it isn't funny but horrifyng.So what didn't work? The silly plane as the rainbow bridge was lame. The giant hands were probably a good idea that didn't work out too well on stage. The magnifying glasses the giants held up made them look freaky and cool, but when they put them down the effect was lost and they were just two guys upstage. Too much neon, and the scrim was in place for the entire performance.


The orchestra was completely hidden underneath the stage, to the extent that even the conductor couldn't be seen at all from the orchestra level. The acoustics of the Dorothy Chandler aren't great to begin with, and the orchestra wasn't well served by the way the pit was obscured.At one point during the Vorspiel, I thought someone had turned on something mechanical that was creating a buzz somewhere, and I was dismayed to figure out it was originating from the pit. The orchestra sometimes had a lackluster sound to it and I can't tell if it was from the way the stage was configured. There are so many sublime moments to Rheingold's score, yet only in moments did its full power emerge. Even the anvils were not the thrill they should be, nor was Donner's hammer blow.In a live performance one always notices things in a score for the first time, yet everything I noticed seemed to be a mistake. This was a surprise to me because I've read that Conlon really wants to turn L.A. into a Wagner powerhouse. Perhaps it was where we were seated (orchestra Row M, just under the balcony). It's not that the orchestra was bad- they just accompanied a magnificent production rather than helped make it.Having said that, compared to the superbly conducted and well-sung performance I saw this past summer in San Francisco, this production was in a completely different league due to the sheer brilliance and execution of what was happening on stage and it made the SFO production look provincial and old-fashioned (even though it was excellent). Kudos to Freyer, Conlon and Domingo- L.A. Opera is the most exciting opera company in the country west of Manhattan.

Still, I loved this production. I can't wait for Die Walkure.

Anne-Sophie Mutter and SFS perform Gubaidulina's Violin Concerto No. 2- "In Present Time"

Anne-Sophie Mutter is here in San Francisco for the weekend and on Friday night she performed Sofia Gubaidulina's second violin concerto, In tempus Praesens. The piece, dedicated to Mutter, lasts for a slightly more than half an hour and has five sections played as a single movement. It's the final work of Gubaidulina's presented during her two-week artist in residency gig with the SF Symphony and it made me wish I'd attended some of the other performances.

For those of you not familiar with her, Anne-Sophie Mutter is a simply a goddess. She's an incredibly talented violinist who just happens to look (and dress) like a screen siren from the golden age of Hollywood. She's had numerous works for the violin dedicated to her and tours world-wide performing them for audiences who might otherwise be reluctant to listen to the music of contemporary composers. At the same time, she is also a superb interpreter of the classical canon. Her performances of the Beethoven sonatas at Davies a few years ago is something I'll never forget. She also has a foundation to support young musicians and is an active philanthropist. Did I mention she's hot? Gorgeous.

Anyway, enough of my Mutter-blather.

Michael Tilson Thomas came out on stage and told the audience how excited he and the orchestra were to playing this particular piece and to have Anne-Sophie there with them. He then gave one of his little lectures and using a harpsichord, demonstrated the motives in the piece. Yes, the score includes a harpsichord and even though it was amplified it could hardly be heard, thankfully. I hate the sound produced by a harpsichord. Burn them all. Please.

Then Anne-Sophie came onstage in a gorgeous dress that made her look like a mermaid. Her hair is now shoulder-length (sigh). If she wasn't armed with a violin she'd look like a woman ready for the red carpet, not the concert stage.

She begins with the motives MTT previously demonstrated for us and them the orchestra comes in behind her. Some sections sound like a Bernard Hermann film score, others like cicadas on an August night in Alabama. There is one part that has three repeating dark notes that build and build like gunfire into a thrilling climax. She has the only violin onstage and can still be heard clearly even with the large orchestra going full-bore behind her. The score has some thunderous parts for brass and lots of great percussive moments. The moments where the snare drum lead with brisk rolls were particularly exciting. There's a cadenza 2/3 of the way through giving A-SM a couple of minutes to display the score's contradicting brawn and beauty. This was my first encounter with the piece and I would gladly hear it again. I've heard the one recording available, with A-SM and Gergiev conducting is very good. At the conclusion the audience gave a hearty standing ovation for both Gubaidulina and Mutter, who took three curtain calls.

After the intermission, MTT gave us two Ravel pieces, Valses nobles et ssentimentales and La Valse. Valses, a series of waltzes, is pleasant enough music and it was performed nicely, but it was a mistake to program such traditional and pedestrian pieces to follow up Gubaidulina's. In other words it was boring. The same can be said for La Valse, which is wonderful to hear at the ballet, but in a concert setting ultimately made me feel like I should have left at intermission- like the couple beside me did.

Did I mention how hot Anne-Sophie looked?

Two nights at Davies: Dutoit rapes Scheherazade and Glass' Music in Twelve Parts

I attended the Friday the 13th performance of Charles Dutoit conducting the SF Symphony and sure enough, a sexy young woman was brutally murdered on the stage of Davies Symphony Hall. The program started like most horror movies, with an Idyllic opening sequence designed to lull the audience into a false sense of familiarity before the mayhem ensues. Debussy's Prelude to L'Apres midi d' un faune was everything we remember from Music Appreciation 101: bright, warm, inviting as a cool breeze on late June afternoon. It made one remember why it deserves its place on the curriculum. In the hands of a great orchestra it's bullet-proof and this performance was no exception.

Next was Stravinsky's Symphony in C- a work I was greatly looking forward to hearing live for the first time and it was terrific. The call and response between the various instruments, the paired melodies, the way each section of the orchestra (even the basses!) had its shining moment and the lovely closing section was extraordinary. I'm not enough of a ballet fan to know if this piece has been used before, but I would love to see Yuri Possokhov create a ballet around this joyous, driving music, composed during one of Stravinsky's darkest moments.

Little did I know it was to be my last happy moment that evening- kind of like when the kids are listening to "Sweet Home Alabama" on their way to the Skynyrd concert before they pick up the crazy hitchhiker in remake of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Sorry, I know I'm mixing my horror-movie analogies here.

A sense of unease settles upon me when a conductor takes to the podium without the score. I interpret it as a statement for both the audience and the orchestra: I know this piece inside and out, I've led it too many times to discover anything new in it and I'm going to show you how it's done. The program may as well contain an insert which reads "what you hear tonight will contain nothing illuminating about the music being performed. Sorry- and thank you for supporting the arts."

Scheherazde is a beautiful monster of a piece- its opening is the classical equivalent of Led Zeppelin's most thunderous riffs and its solo violin parts are as soaring as those of the guitar in classic rock numbers like "Layla" or Prince's "Purple Rain." It's so melodic it's almost easy to dismiss it as a lightweight piece, and unfortunately on this night it was treated as one.

There stood Dutoit, sans hockey mask or a chainsaw, but nevertheless the sense of dread was suddenly palpable. Suddenly half the audience leans forward, obliterating the view of the other half seated behind them, thus causing even more movement, and then as the music begins with those huge, awesome and terrible swells, heads began swaying to the melody and suddenly I felt as if I'd been transported to a Celione Dion concert.

Still, for about two minutes it's perfect- the orchestra creates a surging wave of sound for the opening of "The Sea and Sinbad's Ship" and concertmaster Alexander Barantschik plays the first solo violin part with a fluid and delicate beauty.

Then Dutoit proceeds to slaughter the piece by leading it at a breakneck pace that removes all the blood, nuance, tension and melody from it. The soloists, especially the oboe, clarinet and piccolo seem to be doing everything they can just to keep up (and they are terrific despite the speed at which they are being led). The next two movements are so completely disheartening, so taken for granted, it was like attending a fundraiser for the culinary arts and being served a chicken breast with frozen vegetables. Even Barantschik seemed to lose all interest and he's the most serious and intensely devoted musician onstage. The entire orchestra just seemed to capitulate to Dutoit's "let's just get this over with" ethos for the remaining forty or so minutes. The final movement did manage to provide some brief moments of beauty in spite of the orchestra's (and the audience's) complete abuse.

The audience, one of the worst-behaved I have ever seen, of course gave it a tumultuous ovation. I left the hall feeling depressed.

Three nights later, I arrived early to get my ticket at the will call office and found Davies buzzing with the most diverse-looking audience I've ever seen there, all gathered to experience the West Coast debut of Phillip Glass' Music in Twelve Parts.

Fie on San Francisco performances for completely mucking up the will call line and causing about a quarter of the audience to arrive late and shame on them for allowing latecomers to be seated in a steady, distracting stream throughout the first of the evening's four sections.

I thought I was going to be lucky since the seats next to me remained empty until the first imtermission, but then my good luck turned sour when an obese couple squished in next to me. Call me names if you like, but I hate feeling squashed and cramped in my seat because someone can't fit into theirs. Buy a box seat if you can't fit into a regular one- you have no right to a third of mine. To make matters worse, they smelled terrible. I actually had to go find another seat to prevent the rest of the evening from becoming an endurance test of nausea and resentment.

Oh yes, about the music.

Music in Twelve Parts, composed between 1971 and 1974, is normally performed over three evenings and represents a summation of Glass' technique and thoughts on composition at that point in his career. It is considered a highly influential landmark in 20th century music. This performance was the first time the work was to performed in its entirety on the West Coast, broken up into four hour-long movements of three parts each with an hour break for dinner. That's right- a five-hour long minimalist marathon.

But it was anything but minimalist. The Phillip Glass Ensemble is comprised of seven musicians- three with keyboards(including Glass), three who alternate between assorted winds and horns, and one amazing vocalist (Lisa Bielawa) whose stamina was beyond belief. Starting with a base melodic structure that appears deceptively simple on the surface, the musicians constantly develop it into new variations and directions until it gradually transforms into another melody entirely, one note change, one slight shift in tempo at a time. It requires constant attention to follow and it would take me too long to find the right analogy to aptly describe it. The result, however, is fascinating and compelling. The listener is drawn into the sound while trying to follow and identify everything going on within it- and there is a lot going on in this music of surprising depth.

Lisa Bielawa's vocals were an integral part of the whole, and for me, the anchor to the entire work. During the two or three sections she sat out to rest (well-deserved, I might add) the intensity of the sound was noticeably diminished for me and became less interesting. Others disagreed with me, so I'm willing to attribute this opinion to my interest in voice. I have to say that her performance was unlike anything I've ever witnessed- akin to singing the last act of Siegfried and then all of Tristan and Isolde in one concert. She was incredible.

For me, Twelve Parts was one part too long, as the final part lacked Bielawa's vocal and I could no longer follow the subtlety of the variations. I was just too full to have another serving.

It was an interesting, often mesmerizing, intense musical experience- the kind of rare opportunity we to get experience regularly simply because we live here in San Francisco.

Das Rheingold and the Oscars

In my earlier post on Das Rheingold I didn't discuss the music. The orchestra was completely hidden underneath the stage, to the extent that even the conductor couldn't be seen at all from the orchestra level. The acoustics of the Dorothy Chandler aren't great to begin with, and the orchestra wasn't well served by the way the pit was obscured.

At one point during the Vorspiel, I thought someone had turned on something mechanical that was creating a buzz somewhere, and I was dismayed to figure out it was originating from the pit. The orchestra sometimes had a lackluster sound to it and I can't tell if it was from the way the stage was configured. There are so many sublime moments to Rheingold's score, yet only in moments did its full power emerge. Even the anvils were not the thrill they should be, nor was Donner's hammer blow.

In a live performance one always notices things in a score for the first time, yet everything I noticed seemed to be a mistake. This was a surprise to me because I've read that Conlon really wants to turn L.A. into a Wagner powerhouse. Perhaps it was where we were seated (orchestra Row M, just under the balcony). It's not that the orchestra was bad- they just accompanied a magnificent production rather than helped make it.

Having said that, compared to the superbly conducted and well-sung performance I saw this past summer in San Francisco, this production was in a completely different league due to the sheer brilliance and execution of what was happening on stage and it made the SFO production look provincial and old-fashioned (even though it was excellent). Kudos to Freyer, Conlon and Domingo- L.A. Opera is the most exciting opera company in the country west of Manhattan.

Since we were in L.A., we went to Hollywood to watch the Oscars and to look for celebrities. Now, admittedly, this was not my idea, but I'm a good sport and a certain gorgeous Colombian lady wanted to see movie stars if she was going to be in L.A. on Oscar weekend, so off we went. We actually did see one in the gauntlet the police had set up on Hollywood Blvd (transformed into the world's biggest driveway for the ceremony). At least I'm pretty sure that was Jeremy Irons getting his Jaguar swept by the cops.

Since that was as close as we were going to get to the Kodak Theater, we looked for a suitable place to watch the show, have a few drinks and get some food. We ended up at Broadmer's on Cherokee just off the boulevard. I could make this place an Oscar tradition. The bar has a 30's-40's vibe, horseshoe-shaped booths, a fireplace, a patio with a fountain out back and the only modern touches were the employee with a Mohawk (a different kind of retro which amuses me in 2009) and a huge tv above the fireplace. The crowd was low-key and seemed to be mostly locals, the bartender pleasant and attentive and the food was good. What more could one want? It was perfect.

As for the show, well, I was disappointed in the winnerss except for Heath Ledger, whose performance was iconic and indelible. I was rooting for Mickey Rourke over Penn, though Penn was great in Milk. And come on people, Slumdog Millionaire is this decade's Life is Beautiful- a well-made movie with one gut-busting, laugh-out loud funny scene, but it's manipulative and sentimental in the worst way. It didn't deserve to win all those Ocars. But the music rocked so I agree with those 2 awards- I like the film's soundtrack a lot. My preference was Frost/Nixon, only because it was so much better than I thought it could be.

We thought the show went quickly for how long it actually was and we liked the new format for the acting awards. Hell, anytime you get Sophia Loren, Nicole Kidman and Halle Barry onstage at the same time I don't care what you're doing, I'm going to enjoy it. Yes, Shirley Maclaine and Adrian Brody were lame, but I thought most of the rest came through with class contributions.

And speaking of comments, thankfully there were no excessive thanking of agents, lawyers and the rest that make the acceptance speeches boring and banal. Sean Penn and Penelope Cruz were relevant and sincere, Leger's family was touching, and at least Winslet had on a great dress. As for Danny "I'll hold my hands to my face in feigned amazement" Boyle, please go back to making movies about zombies or junkies (though not at the same time, please). Please.

All in all, the only disappointment for the weekend was that we didn't make it to Pink's or Brent's Deli. I love L.A.

Das Rheingold

L.A. Opera's Das Rheingold is one of the best productions of any opera I have ever seen. Period. Absolutely Fantastic.

Now, I should mention that Rheingold is probably my favorite opera (at least it has been for the past few years). This is the fourth production of it I've attended and I've watched four versions of it on DVD. This one is the best. It is not without flaws, but this is the real deal- the combination of dramatic theater and music that Wagner intended to create, albeit for a 21st Century audience. My impression is that this Ring, if it stays consistent over the remaining parts, will take its place alongside Chereau's centenary Bayreuth production in redrawing the boundaries of how the work can be presented to contemporary audiences. In other words, there are going to be haters, but let them pine for horned helmets while the rest of us follow opera into a new era.

Achim Freyer made a bold choice by making the central character Loge rather than Wotan and it pays handsomely. Wotan's role is not diminshed, but rather he is portrayed as being trapped by his own decisions to the point where he is immobile for most of the evening while Loge is the prime mover on the stage. I've never seen it presented this way, but it made complete sense, aided tremendously by Loge's four-handed devil outfit nicely contrasted with Wotan's Hellraiser-inspired one-eyed god/ goon encased in an elaborate box of his own creation. Arnold Bezeyun gave an amzing performance with precise diction and elegant phrasing. As the gods pose and pontificate, he acts- and he steals the show in the same way Heath Ledger owned the Dark Knight whenever he was onscreen.

Also contributing stellar performances were Gordon Hwakins as Alberich and Graham Clark as Mime. It's saying something that these were really the standout performances of the evening. Vitilaj Kowaljow's Wotan was reserved in the beginning but it suited the presentation. In this production, Wotan is a witness to the crime he plotted, but is forced to into a certain passivity by the events he set in motion. He has upset the balance and lacks any power to set things right, though we know he's going to spend the next ten hours trying.

Women are chattel here, with the exception of Erda. Fricka stands to the side for most of the evening, outstreched arms in a mock presentation of the action unfolding right before her as if to say "but what could I have done with such a man?" She is only a spectator to the disaster befalling her family. Freia is a freak show, the gods tethered to her golden apples via a blood-red umbilical cord. The Rheinmaidens, the evening's only real disapointment in the vocal department, were interesting to watch as their reflections in the water appeared beneath them in human form, but are presented as objects of fanstasy rather than lust.

And it did the hardest part right! When Alberich turned into the dragon it was actually a really cool effect rather than the cheesy bit of stage whiz or lame projection usually presented.

There are so many intriguing things here that I wish I could go back to L.A. and see it at least one more time. The dual Wotan identities made sense. The violence of Fasolt's death, while producing chuckles in its execution, was chilling to contemplate- the next performances should get it to the point where it isn't funny but horrifyng.

So what didn't work? The silly plane as the rainbow bridge was lame. The giant hands were probably a good idea that didn't work out too well on stage. The magnifying glasses the giants held up made them look freaky and cool, but when they put them down the effect was lost and they were just two guys upstage. Too much neon, and the scrim was in place for the entire performance.

Still, I loved this production.

I'll probably even write more about it later.

And I can't wait for Die Walkure.