The Met/Lepage Gotterdammerung

Although it drew an almost universal chorus of disapproval from the first note of Das Rheingold which never let up until the world burned across its planks almost a year and a half and 15 hours later in Gotterdammerung, in the end the "Machine" proved its worth to the Met's new Ring cycle. This may not have been true for those seated in the house, who complained about creaks, squeaks and malfunctions, but if you saw it from the seat of a movie theater like I did during the HD broadcasts, what started out as an extravagantly expensive contraption became an icon by the time it was all over. I say that because alongside some gripping performances, it's the imagery of this Ring that rests firmly in the mind and was elemental to its most appealing moments. That's not to take anything away from the singers or the orchestra (whether conducted by Fabio Luisi or James Levine), but there are three things from this cycle that people will be talking about years from now: Eric Owens' amazing Alberich in Rheingold; Jay Hunter Morris' Siegfried; and the Machine, which was used to greatest effect in Gotterdammerung. At least that's how it came across in the theater (and I can't stress this enough), where the camera angles were dazzling and the sound was perfectly mixed, creating an experience wholly unlike that of those who heard and saw it in the house.

The Prologue featuring the Norns (Heidi Melton, Elizabeth Bishop, Maria Radner) weaving their rope of destiny was the only part of the production visually lacking. True, three women weaving a rope doesn't obviously lend itself as inspiration for a scene rife with dramatic tension, but many have found a way to do it. Luisi didn't pull the tension and dread from the score, and though each of the singers were fine (Melton especially), the scene was little more than perfunctory explication of the back story.

The first scene of Act 1 began with the only serious miscue as far as blocking- something which has plagued the other operas but seemed much better in Gotterdammerung- by having Brunnhilde and Siegfried make their entrances approaching one another from opposite ends of the stage. This is their "morning after" moment, so it doesn't make sense- where did Siegfried wander off to that he is now returning from? This underlines the one serious flaw in Lepage's production; he really doesn't have much insight into these characters and what to do with them. Luckily, this time around he's saved by the cast, who are fully invested in giving dramatic portrayals. However, one has to wonder what subsequent casting in future cycles will yield.

But for now, the issue remains in the background since there's so much visual splendor going on- and well, there's the music of course.

Deborah Voigt seemed to struggle with Brunnhilde more than in the earlier segments- perhaps because she was ill earlier in the week, but weak vocal moments aside I remain impressed by how fully she inhabits the role. Jay Hunter Morris' Siegfried was as visually and vocally exciting as he was the last time out. The lightness of his voice, probably more evident in the house, isn't an issue in the broadcasts and if there was ever an opera singer born to be on the big screen he's the one. When he waved to the Rheinmaidens the entire audience I was with guffawed in delight. Overall however, his impression was less powerful than in Siegfried and again I'll assign this to Lepage not knowing what to do with the character nor with a singer who seems like the most perfect fit for the role currently living. There was way too much silliness with striking poses with Notung. Waltraud Meier was excellent in the one superfluous scene of the opera, as were the all three Rheinmeaidens- Erin Morely, Jennifer Cano and especially Tamara Mumford, whose bewitching gaze seemed to reveal a palpable desire to have Morris all to herself, which was pretty amusing.

As the sibling pawns Gunther and Gutrune, Wendy Bryn Harmer and Iain Paterson faced the one of thee bigger challenge in making two almost faceless characters come to life without any direction and to their credit both succeeded, with Paterson especially making the most of it.

Although onstage for roughly only eight minutes, Eric Owens' Alberich was once again a perfect interpretation of the role vocally and dramatically.

Hans-Peter Konig's Hagen was a different story. His voice is fantastic- that's obvious, but his portrayal struck me as all wrong. Hagen should ooze menace visually and vocally from the moment we first see him and Konig has none. Add to this his towering physical presence over the other performers, and the heart of what makes Gotterdammerung so dramatically involving goes wholly missing. He's a huge bear of a man who is absolutely non-threatening. Strange, since he managed to give the opposite effect so easily as Hunding in Die Walkure. The moment when he summons the Gibichungs, which should be one of the most musically thrilling in the entire cycle, went flat, though the Met chorus sounded sensational.

Luisi led the orchestra in a rushed manner through the first two acts, and though he slowed it down a bit in the third, overall he didn't make the most of the score's lushness.

All of this hardly mattered in the end though, as the Machine created one gorgeous mise en scène after another. The Lepage Ring isn't insightful and it's certainly not bold (see Freyer for that) in its obstinately traditional approach, but it is quite beautiful to watch.

Peek-a-boo with the Little Chinese Man

I've been thinking about him lately- it's been quite some time since I've seen him. In fact I had made a mental note to see exactly how long it's been.

Was he still around? Did somebody finally kill him? Had he been imprisoned for some unspeakable crime?

As I walk home from work every day I pass the myriad locations where I've spotted him over the past seven or eight years, maybe more now. I can't keep track. Scenes of my own disintegration that I replay in my mind as I wait for the light to change at this corner or that corner, looking for him (and the others) from the corner of my eye.

And like it has happened so many times before, as if he and I are locked in some endless variation of hide-and-seek, I turned the last corner, reaching my block, and saw him standing on the corner fifty feet away, waiting for the light and a sign from God to do who knows what heinous atrocity.

Crossing the street, moving toward him, I caught his eye. He looked at me with suspicion and faint recognition. Then I saw the click of recognition in his face. He took a step away, then back, quickly looking in the other direction.

The light changed in his favor, and he stepped into the street.

He was wearing his puffy brown jacket and the same beige trousers hemmed four inches too high that he's worn for years like a second skin.

He looked at me over his shoulder as he crossed the street.

"Hi!" I called out, and gave him a little wave, doing my best impersonation of a cheerful, happy person.

"Oh!" he said, and looked confused.

I turned to see if there was any oncoming traffic. When I looked back he was turning away from me.

I turned and made my way toward my building and then stopped and looked back. He was still moving, zig-zagging in the street, looking back over his shoulder, and quickly turned his head away when he saw I had stopped.

We went back and forth like this perhaps a dozen times- I'd turn around to see him quickly looking away, then look away myself, wondering what to do next. He seemed equally confused.

Five months and five days since our last encounter, the Little Chinese Man and I were now playing peek-a-boo, performing a strange dance in the street while dozens of other people moved between us, blocking our view of one another. Keeping us apart.

Finally I thought to reach into my pocket for my phone so I could take his picture. Maybe this would be the day I finally captured his terrifying face. I switched the camera on and turned in his direction.

But he was gone, and though from where I stood I could clearly see two blocks down the street, he was nowhere to be seen. 

Candlelight Concert by the Monteverdi Consort this Sunday

The Monteverdi Consort, St. Mary’s Artists in Residence, is a one-on-a-part vocal ensemble specializing in choral music of the Renaissance. This coming Sunday evening, February 19th at 7 p.m., they will present a Candlelight Concert at the Episcopal Church of St. Mary the Virgin, 2325 Union Street (at Steiner) in San Francisco.

The concert features a cappella music of Burton, Brumel, Morales, Palestrina, Roussel, and most notably, Josquin des Prez, in which the solfège syllables- ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la, play a structural and often symbolic role. 

There will be a wine and cheese reception following the concert. I’ve been told that over the past few weeks some of the volunteers and staff at St. Mary’s have been caught standing just outside the door as the consort has been practicing in the church. Chip Grant, the Director of Music at the church, promises this concert is sure to transport you to another place and time. I can’t think of a better way to end the weekend.

Doors open at 6:30 p.m.  The concert is free and open to the public.  (Donations are always appreciated.)  There will be a wine and cheese reception following the concert.

If you can't make this event, the next Candlelight Concert at SMV will feature The Real Vocal String Quartet, Sunday, March 18th, at 7 p.m.

Casting details for SF Lyric Opera's little match girl passion

As I previously mentioned, San Francisco Lyric Opera returns next month after a three year hiatus with a new production of David Lang's "little match girl passion," done in a shear, minimalist style with a quartet of singers doubling on percussion. The quartet is Ann Moss, Celeste Winant, Eric Tuan and Eugene Brancoveanu. Matthew Antaky is the production's lighting designer, whose brilliant work was just seen in Ensemble Parallele's The Great Gatsby,.

The story will be told Butoh-style, with choreography performed by Anastazia Loiuse/Bad Unkl Sista. Barnaby Palmer will conduct and Grant will direct the production. the little match girl passion will be performed in the intimate ODC Theater on March 23, 24, and a matinee on March 25.  Consider it not to missed.

Ensemble Parallèle's The Great Gatsby: Part 1

Julienne Walker, Jason Detwiler, Marco Pannucio. Photo by Steve DiBartolomeo

Last year Ensemble Parallèle staged a production of Phillip Glass' Orphée which was a triumph of imagination, creativity and execution by the small opera company. This year they pulled it off again, with an almost audaciously ambitious production of The Great Gatsby, John Harbison's opera originally commissioned by the Met and presented here in a re-orchestration by Ensemble Parallèle's own Jacques Desjardin, with Harbison's approval.

Though Desjardin reduced the original score from 80 instruments to 30, and by any measure E.P. is still a small company, what they've put on the stage is a full-blown realization of Harbison's opera which looks fantastic and features a very strong cast.  As Gatsby, tenor Marco Panuccio managed to convey the character's surface confidence and underlying insecurity with exceptional smoothness. His duet with Susannah Biller's Daisy at the end of the first act was the highlight of the opera, with both singers conveying a potent desire for each other. Vocally, Biller, a current Adler Fellow, is the biggest presence onstage, strongly reminiscent of Rene Zellwegger's Roxy Hart in the film Chicago. As Daisy's husband Tom Buchanan, tenor Dan Snyder lent his strong voice and imposing physicality to a memorable performance oozing barely contained menace. Of all the performances, his was the most intriguing from a dramatic perspective. Mezzo Julienne Walker was fine as Jordan Baker, but I'm not sure the young singer knows how much stage-presence she actually possesses- if she turned it up a bit, Biller would have more competition and a stronger dynamic between the two would have made their strong pairing even better.


In the smaller but significant roles of George and Myrtle Wilson, bass Bojan Knezevic and mezzo Erin Neff gave two of the strongest performances of the night- and somewhat oddly, their characters have some of the opera's best material.


Jason Detwiler's Nick Carraway was problematic, not because of anything on the part of the singer, whose performance was fine, but the character who is the conscience of Fitzgerald's novel is hardly more than a cipher in Harbison's opera- and while on the whole I found the opera to be musically engaging and was frequently captivated by its jazz-infused score full of the energy and uncertainty of the U.S. in the 1920's, without Carraway's voice to center it the characters lack depth and this undermines the whole. 

Susannah Biller.  Photo by Steve DiBartolomeo   

When Panuccio sings "I'm Gatsby" to the unknowing Carraway at a party, nothing earning him the epithet " The Great" ever follows. The audience's only clue that Gatsby might be more than he seems comes toward the end when Carraway delivers the line (lifted straight from the novel), "you're better than the whole bunch." We're told this, but never shown, and if the audience is to take the opera on its own merit, apart from the novel, it leaves a gaping hole in the development of its three main characters, unless we're meant to see them little more than shallow figures lost in a haze of jazz, booze and cigarettes.


In the end, it's really only the Smiths, strangely enough, and perhaps because their desires and needs are the simplest and most obvious, who come close to being fully realized.  The choice to remove Carraway's conscience at the center of the story would be fine if there were more in the libretto shifting these portrayals to the singers, or with a greater use of motives in the music (perhaps it's there and I just didn't listen carefully enough on hearing it for the first time), but there's not enough for them to work with to make them fully developed. Unless of course that's Harbison's point. Discuss.


On the other hand, condensed to ten scenes in two acts and effectively restructuring the narrative to include the most important scenes from the novel, Harbison has done an effective job of rendering the story, and especially the atmosphere of Gatsby, into an opera.


The production team Ensemble Parallèle brought together for this did a fantastic job, especially the exceptional set designs and lighting by Matthew Antaky and the marvelously evocative video work by Austin Forbord, which really is as good as, or better than many recent productions by San Francisco Opera. How they accomplish this is somewhat of a miracle. The costumes by Christine Crook were perfect and there was much to admire in the choreography by Tom Segal.

Conductor Nicole Paiement worked hard to keep a lot of competing elements on track- the orchestra, a jazz band on stage, a dancing chorus, and of course the singers. Most of the time it worked, especially in the party scenes which were exuberantly staged, but the first act's quartet went off the rails  pretty quickly and sometimes the taut pace sounded a bit cacophonous.


Director Brian Staufenbiel's work is impressive, with the exception of some distracting "stand and deliver" moments when the singers directly face the audience instead of to whom they're singing and there's the jarring misstep of having Gatsby rise from the dead to get into his coffin while onstage.


Reader, you may have noticed most of the characters who populated this narrative in the past have lately disappeared,  but indeed they are still around (some, at least). As are their cuckolds, their relations, and their strange and often malevolent behaviors. And last night there we were, all together in that warm and crowded theater, crashing into each other like the cars driven by drunken guests leaving one of Gatsby's parties. Part 2 of this post, if I write it, will be about the opera that unfolded off on the stage.  

Biller, Parnuccio. Photo by Steve DiBartolomeo

It's a small town, old sport- and perhaps I'm Gatsby.

Leif Ove Andsnes

Leif Ove Andsnes. Photo by Felix Broede.

Leif Ove Andsnes returned to San Francisco Thursday night for a solo recital of music by Haydn, Bartok, Debussy and Chopin. Perfectly planned, the Norwegian pianist started off wonderfully with an expressive account Haydn's Piano Sonata in C minor and things got better as the night progressed. The Haydn sonata was an interesting, slightly odd, choice since they're relatively neglected among the composer's other works, but Andsnes made a case for why we should be hearing them more often (Haydn composed over 60 piano sonatas)- it sounded much more ahead of its time than I would have expected. Bartok's Suite for Piano, Opus 14, a four movement piece drawing on the composer's interest in folk music without really quoting any, presented a different vision of his work than that of the three piano concertos. The last piece of the first half was Debussy's Images Book 1. By the time Andsnes got to these three musical impressions of water, the work of Rameau, and movement, he'd won me over with his elegant and tasteful playing. Neither flamboyant nor stern, he performed like a man in love with a keyboard, coaxing from it what he wished with seeming ease  and pleasure.

He even made the difficult pieces of the all-Chopin second half look like a labor of love, though they're notoriously challenging. Andsnes played four waltzes followed by two Ballades with a Nocturne sandwiched in between the latter. The second waltz, in G-flat Major, Opus 70 No. 1, parts of which were later used in the ballet Les Sylphides, was was the highlight of the performance, though Andsnes performed impressively  throughout the set. Okay, the last Ballade (in G minor, Opus 23) was a little rushed, but that's the only quibble I have for the excellent, illuminating performance.

There were two encores- another waltz by Chopin, and then, oddly Grenados' "Andaluza," - a Spanish Dance that didn't quite fit the theme, though like everything else, it was marvelously played.

Patrick Vaz has a brilliant stream-of-conscious take on the evening here. The well-attended concert was presented by San Francisco Performances.

LA Opera's 2012-13 season: Bunt!

Marina Poplavskaya

If you ever played Little League baseball, surely you remember some parental troll in the bleachers yelling "A bunt's as good as a hit!" But everyone on the field knew that wasn't the truth- nothing feels better than a solid hit. LA Opera announced their next season today, and it's definitely a mixed bag, the programming equivalent of a bunt- good enough to keep the game going, maybe even score a run or two, but it seems like the safe way out- and disappointing in the long run. With the exception of the Verdi rarity I Due Foscari, the season is wall-to-wall warhorses. Well-cast warhorses for the most part, but there's something dispiriting about a season in which the most intriguing thing on it is an opera by Verdi. Don't get me wrong- the notion of Domingo, Marina Poplavskaya and Franceso Meli in a Verdi opera no one around these parts has seen in forever is tantalizing to be sure, but after that? Lots to see, but little to be truly excited about except for Sondra Radvanovsky as Tosca, which is somewhat undermined by having Domingo conduct.

On the plus side, none of these productions have previously been seen in LA, though I've seen a couple of them here in San Francisco, so let's begin with those.

Raimund Bauer's set design for Die Fliegende Hollander was one of those productions people either loved or loathed, and I loved every minute of it and would happily see it again. So this is a plus, though I also really liked the Julie Taymoor Dutchman I saw in LA a few years back and would have been pleased to see the original version make a return. As for the cast, Jay Hunter Morris as Erik is obviously a good thing, though Elisabete Matos as Senta is an unknown quantity, as is Tomas Tomasson, whom I saw in SFO's production of The Queen of Spades, but frankly I don't remember much about his performance.

The other SFO production is Butterfly- not the most recent, which was imported from Chicago I think, and a total disaster, but the Michael Yeargan production which was seen so many times in SF that it needed to be retired from sheer exhaustion. But it's a good one if you've never seen it. The cast is an embarrassment of riches and can I just say right now that it's something of a travesty to see a singer as fine as Eric Owens cast in the role of Sharpless? Mr. Owens, fire your management team- you should be headlining operas world-wide- not taking secondary roles in warhorses. The magnificent Brandon Jovanovich is Pinkerton (he's great in this role) and Oksana Dyka should make for an interesting Butterfly.

LAO's production of Don Giovanni in 2003 with Erwin Schrott (conducted by Nagano) was as good as it gets, so we'll have to see if Ildebrando D'Arecengelo in this production from Chicago can eclipse that. Having Soile Isokowski as Donna Elvira will certainly go a long way toward making that happen and it's nice to see the phenomenally talented Joshua Bloom return to the West Coast. Go on a night when Conlon is conducting.

I know nothing about the cast or production for La Ceneretola, but LAO has a good track record with Rossini these past few years and though it's too bad Nino Machaidze isn't on the schedule this season (what's up with that, by the way?), I'd say based on the recent past this is a safe bet since Conlon's on the podium. If any company can make a claim to doing right by Rossini in recent years, it's LAO.

So that brings us to Tosca. On the one hand it has Radvanovsky in it, along with the excellent Marco Berti as Cavaradossi. This alone is reason to be excited, but I sure wish Conlon was at the helm of this one. Still, Sondra is Sondra, and how can you miss this?

Overall, it's the cautious programming being seen almost everywhere, but at least in this case what's on the stage promises to be good. A step back for what has been an adventurous company in recent years, but not a mis-step. 

Blomstedt conducts Bruckner (SFS @ 100 post #10)

Herbert Blomstedt, former music director (conductor laureate) of the San Francisco Symphony, returned this week for his annual visit, this time with a heightened level of nostalgia as the Symphony invited all its surviving past leaders to partake in the current Centennial Season (Edo de Waart is on the schedule, Seiji Ozawa is not, due to health issues). Blomstedt, approaching 85 years old, looks spry for his age and somewhat mindblowingly, he took to the stage tonight to lead the 80-odd minute Bruckner 5th Symphony without a score. Okay, it is his specialty, but the man is almost 85 and it's 80 minutes long.

If you're already suspecting what could be great about this this scenario, and more importantly, what could go wrong with it, go to the head of the class. In reality, nothing was wrong with it all on a musical level- the orchestra continues to be playing at the extraordinary level its displayed since this season began. In fact, improbably, they seem to be getting even better as it goes along. As I was listening tonight I realized for the first time this orchestra has created a very distinct sound- others probably noticed this earlier, perhaps years ago, but I really heard it for the first time tonight- all the more interesting to me because MTT wasn't on the podium.

The current orchestra isn't remotely like the one Blomstedt worked with during his tenure. Sure, there are numerous veteran players who go back to his era, but their sound has evolved dramatically over the years. However, Blomstedt's annual visits have kept him well-versed in these changes and he's highly in tune with the musicians and knows how to get what he wants from them. In other words, the band was pretty flawless tonight, with special kudos to the brass, Tim Day's flute, Bill Bennett's oboe, Luis Baez's clarinet, Stephen Paulson's bassoon, and magnificent strings led by Nadya Tichman.

Blomstedt, known for his advocacy of Nielsen and Bruckner, has always aimed for icy precision and clarity over sanguine passion and tonight was no different- the crispness of the playing in the first movement could have easily drawn blood if it were a knife, despite one moment of brassy fuzziness which disappeared and didn't return. In the second movement, the pizzicato of the strings was like the ticking of a stopwatch marking the loss of something deep and profound- and it was here I noticed that distinct SFS sound really come through for the first time- odd given the music, but there you have it. It was also here that Day and Bennett really shined for the first time during the performance, but not the last.

The scherzo of the third movement does indeed sound like a joking waltz after what's come before, but it did contain a number of exciting climaxes.

But here's the thing- by the time the scherzo finishes, the piece has gone on for about an hour, with music from each movement revisited in the next. The fourth movement brings back all the same music again, for another twenty minutes. In fact it starts where the the whole thing began. And here's where things went awry. Instead of taking the music we've heard for the last hour and doing something new with it, Blomstedt gives us another 20 minutes of what we've just heard in the last hour. Yes, it was beautifully played, but it was, I'm sorry to say, also boring.

Not overly familiar with the piece, though possessing some acquaintance, I sat in in my seat listening and imagined what it could sound like instead of what it did sound like- which lacked variation, new emphasis, and further investigation from what came before. In the end it sounded like a straight recapitulation of the main thematic material of the first three movements. Is that all Blomstedt's fault? No- some of it obviously belongs to Bruckner, but in displaying his mastery of the score, in the end the conductor neglected to bring an interpretation to match it. Still, for that first hour, it was pretty fantastic music.

There is one more performance this Friday night.

Ten picks for SFJazz Spring Season 2012

Somewhere along the line SFJazz wisely decided to drop the word "festival" from its spring and fall season announcements.  I'm not sure when they did this, but when I checked their program to see if the Spring Season was still being billed as a "festival" I noticed it no longer was. It's about time. As SFJazz has grown, what they're doing now is no longer something that can be described as a festival because the organization has matured into a full-blown, major performing arts presenter specializing in jazz, but is also deeply engaged in other musical genres as well as community outreach. This is a fantastic progression, and as they work toward opening their own venue at the beginning of next year, it's time for them to rightly take their place alongside the other premier Bay Area performing arts organizations: San Francisco Symphony, San Francisco Ballet, San Francisco Opera, San Francisco Performances, Cal Performances and Stanford Lively Arts. The quality and variety of their programming certainly puts them in league with these other groups.

Why is this? Because like these other organizations, their offerings are an embarrassment of riches, and it forces the music enthusiast to make some hard choices because no one can see everything, and yet so much looks inviting.  If that weren't enough of a dilemma, SFJazz's spring season competes against all of these other organizations (except the opera) for your attention (and dollars) on any given night. But that's one of the reasons we live here, isn't it?

So, out of the 40+ concerts they're presenting from February 9 through June 17th, what follows are the ten I would recommend first, based somewhat randomly on uniqueness, rarity, quality, or in some cases, nothing more than my own musical preferences. What is a safe bet however, is that few of their shows, if any, will disappoint. The list is in chronological order.

Dave Holland Overtone Quartet  Feb. 24
SFJazz is billing this as one of the most significant gigs of their entire season. Enough said, and if it isn't, the quartet is comprised of Holland on bass, Chris Potter on sax, Jason Moran on the piano, and Eric Harland on drums.

Chrisette Michele  March 17
The Grammy-winning former gospel singer departs from hip hop and R&B to immerse herself into the world of Billie, Ella, and Sarah to take the audience on a forward-looking trip back, poised to deliver a great show at the Paramount.

Raul Midon  April 1
Midon has worked with some of Latin music's biggest names and now he's working the spotlight on his own terms, with dazzling results.

Sierra Maestra  April 4
It's their first U.S. appearance in awhile, and if you're a fan of the Afro-Cuban son sound of the Buena Vista Social Club, this show's for you.

Tin Hat  April 5
Carla Kihlstedt is one of the most imaginative artists around, constantly doing something new and interesting, and usually rooted in literary sources. Tin Hat is a collaboration featuring her with Mark Orton, Ben Goldberg, and Rob Reich. If you're looking for something adventurous and challenging, this is the gig for you- their latest music is set to the work of e.e. cummings.

Bill Frissell  April 21
A night of film and music, Frissell teams with Bill Morrison for a multimedia investigation of the Great Flood of 1927, and its aftermath on American culture.

Charles Lloyd New Quartet  April 22
Vocalist Maria Farantouri, Jason Moran, Reuben Rogers, Eric Harland, and Sokratis Sinopolous join multi-instrumentalist Lloyd for a night of what promises to be solid, inventive jazz.

Brad Mehldau Trio  May 18-20
If you know his work, nothing more needs to be said. If you don't, you're about to discover an amazing artist. The most highly regarded pianist of his generation rolls in for three nights with his superb trio featuring Larry Grenadier on bass and Jeff Ballard on drums. These guys are incredible, and with a different set each night, I wish I could attend all three shows.

Gonzalo Rubalcaba  June 9
A solo recital by one of the most legendary piano players to come from Cuba. Nominated for 15 Grammys and the winner of two, this promises to be an evening of gorgeous, rhythmic virtuosity.

Spectrum Road  June 16
This one has my curiosity piqued. Living Color's Vernon Reid, Cream's Jack Bruce, and Cindy Blackman on drums with John Medeski on keyboards, this quartet takes on the musical legacy of the legendary drummer Tony Williams. 

More, please! Joyce DiDonato, Jake Heggie, & the Alexander String Quartet perform Camille Claudel: Into the Fire

Camille Claudel

The Alexander String Quartet celebrated their 30th anniversary by sharing the limelight with others- a trait that probably plays no small part in their longevity as a performing ensemble. Long considered something of a "house band" for San Francisco Performances and San Francisco State University, they marked the occasion at a concert last night at the Herbst Theater which was simply brilliant. In the program notes Jake Heggie, composer of Dead Man Walking and Moby-Dick among other works, relates the story of how SF Performances' Ruth Felt asked him about composing a piece to mark the quartet's upcoming anniversary and how he then managed to involve mezzo-soprano Joyce DiDonato and librettist Gene Scheer in the creation of a song cycle based on the story of Camille Claudel, about whom Heggie has been interested in creating an opera.

That was a fortuitous bit of networking, judging by last night's resulting program.

It began with Heggie accompanying DiDonato in Reynaldo Hahn's Venezia song cycle, which I heard Christopher Maltman perform just two weeks ago in the same theater. My thoughts on Maltman's recital were mixed, perhaps unenthusiastic, for a performer of obvious vocal abilities and for awhile I wondered if I had been unduly critical of the performance. DiDonato's performance re-assured me I was not- in fact after watching and hearing her sing the same material I think I may have been more generous to Maltman than his performance merited. DiDonato was completely engaged, continuously making eye-contact with seemingly everyone in the house from the moment she began, performing each song with a unique and distinct character, alternating between tenderness in one to bright sass in another. And her voice? Splendid. The last long, lovely legato note of "La Primavera" was gorgeous. Heggie looked like he enjoyed every moment of accompanying her, but more than that I can't say about his performance because DiDonato was so mesmerizing to watch and hear all I really noticed was his ear-to-grin at the conclusion of each song. There's a reason it's recently been said she's at the apex of her career and last night was evidence of it.

Then the Alexanders came onstage to perform Debussy's Sting Quartet in G minor. On paper this seemed like almost too-safe of a choice for the occasion, but they managed to uncover new tones within the familiar territory and delivered an impressively thoughtful performance. Cellist Sandy Wilson brought the morose tone of the first movement to the forefront and it colored everything in its wake. Violist Paul Yarbrough picked up the thread from Wilson in the second movement, adding a quizzical element, and the violins of Zakarias Grafilo and Frederick Lifsitz performed the pizzicato ending with exceptional finesse.

As a unit, they seemed intent to remove the "impressionist" sheen off the composer's reputation, especially in the Scherzo, which sounded uncharacteristically Romantic, and the fourth sounded almost Modernist. But every movement was performed with its own distinct emotional current, with the players cognizant of the themes occurring in each, yet treating each one as a unique entity. It's also the only time I've ever heard it where parts reminded me more than just a little of the late Beethoven quartets.

L to R: Zakarias Grafilo, Frederick Lifsitz, Jake Heggie, Joyce DiDonato, Paul Yarbrough, Sandy Wilson. Photo by Brian Byrne.

While the first half of the concert had been quite good to this point, what followed was truly exceptional. DiDonato and the Alexanders returned, with DiDonato placed in the center of the strings. Camille Claudel: Into the Fire is a song cycle which takes place on the day the title character is taken away to an asylum.  However, it feels much larger than that due to the brilliance of Gene Scheer's lyrics, which manage to convey a complete character arc in just six songs spread over thirty-five minutes (the seven songs include an instrumental). Each song title refers to a sculpture by Claudel (yes, she was a real person) except the last one, which is an epilogue to what's come before.

The devotion to inhabiting the lyrics she exhibited in the Venezia song cycle turned out to be just an appetizer compared to the fully developed character DiDonato brought to Camille Claudel. It made me long to see this work developed into a full-length opera as a vehicle for her.  Beginning with "Rodin," who was Claudel's lover and perhaps artistic rival, Heggie and Scheer have created a portrayal of a woman undone by her lover's abandonment and its subsequent destruction of her mind and soul. "La Valse" and "Shakuntala" carry the narrative forward, the first as lament and the second turning into a mini "mad scene" with an acapella ending which was chilling.

"La Petite Chatelaine" has Claudel turning the anger and rage of "La Valse" upon herself, her own identity cracking under the weight of remorse for the child she aborted at Rodin's request. The song is imbued with conflicted penitence, and while it's impressive on many levels, perhaps its most amazing quality is how the pleas of Claudel over her lost child never become maudlin. Instead, a moment of distinct discomfort is felt through the audience- as if we're complicit in the tragedy by being observers of the result.

Musically, "The Gossips" take the work to a heightened level of intensity as rivulets of notes descend like so many false accusations against Claudel's resigned admissions of "I know. I know." The drops keep falling, and the song closes with a sense of irretrievable loss.

Heggie wisely takes a step back emotionally at this point with an instrumental, "L'age Mur (Maturity)," a fugue begun by the viola, followed by cello, then the violins, evolving into one of the most memorable themes I've heard from a contemporary composer. The theme returns in full at the conclusion of the final song, "Epilogue: Jessie Liscomb visits Camille Claudel, Montevergues Asylum, 1929," which begins with a sprightly dance containing fragments of the theme weaving underneath. The lyrics of the song, and DiDonato's singing of them, are the inevitable conclusion of all that's come before as Claudel, now old and alone, happily receives a visit by an old friend which gives her an opportunity to reminisce, remember, and finally, to regret and submit.

Fantastic. Now can someone please commission an entire opera of this brilliant beginning?

Heggie, DiDonato and the Alexanders returned for an encore of Richard Strauss' "Morgen"- beautifully performed, but also a nice touch given that Heggie noted in the program how he remembered the superb performance of the piece given by this same quartet when he saw them perform for the first time twenty years ago.

Ensemble Parallèle presents John Harbison's The Great Gatsby

Susannah Biller as Daisy in Ensemble Parallele's The Great Gatsby

Ensemble Parallèle returns next weekend with their most ambitious production yet- The Great Gatsby, composed by John Harbison and featuring a libretto by the composer culled from the text of F. Scott Fitzgerald's classic novel. The original version of the opera, commissioned by the Met to celebrate James Levine's 25th anniversary as Music Director, called for an orchestra of 120 players and has only been performed twice before in New York and Chicago, to great acclaim. Putting on a work that size is a formidable task for even the largest companies, which explains why it hasn't been staged since 2000. Ensemble Parallèle and the Aspen Music Festival engaged composer Jacques Desjardins to re-orchestrate the score, with Harbison's approval, and the result will be performed by a 30-piece orchestra and seven-piece jazz band, with approximately 30 minutes trimmed from the original score (with Harbison's approval).

In a series of events held over the past two months, Ensemble Parallèle's artistic team previewed the production's design and musical evolution. Desjardin's task was no small feat, but the results, some of which he's presented in these previews, come across as well-considered and musically bold. E.P.'s conductor Nicole Paiement and director Brian Staufenbiel have really delved into the work and arrived at some very creative methods to preserve the opera's large sense of proportion while working with much smaller resources. With each new outing, Ensemble Parallèle  appears determined to up the artistic ante, and Gatsby, with its chorus, jazz band, complex characters, party scenes and multiple locations, is a huge artistic undertaking for a small company. However, as they've proven before, this is an incredibly creative team and everything revealed in the previews leads one to conclude that what's unveiled next weekend at YBCA's Novellus Theater will be well worth seeing and hearing. Don't wait until the last minute to get tickets- it's highly likely the three performances (February 10-12) will sell out.


The cast features Adler Fellow Susannah Biller as Daisy Buchanan, Marco Panuccio as Gatsby, Dan Synder as Tom Buchanan, Jason Detwiler as Nick Carraway, Julienne Walker as Jordan Baker, and Bojan Knezevic as George Wilson. The production team includes video artist Austin Forbord, sets and lighting by Matthew Antaky, costumes by Christine Crook and choreography by Tom Segal.

San Francisco Lyric Opera rises again with David Lang's "the little match girl passion"

After being dormant for the last three years, San Francisco Lyric Opera returns next month with David Lang's the little match girl passion. Tonight I unexpectedly ran into Chip Grant at a rehearsal for Ensemble Parallele's upcoming The Great Gatsby and I asked him what he was up to lately. Grant is the driving force behind the brilliant Urban Opera, whose Dido and Aeneas and The Witch of Endor were highlights of the Bay Area opera scene in recent years. Dido made both mine and the SF Chronicle's Joshua Kosman's top ten list in 2009. Urban Opera rose from the ashes of SF Lyric, and now events have come full-circle. This is good news for people in the Bay Area looking for well-staged, intelligent, provocative opera productions.

Lang's work, based on the Hans Christian Andersen fairy tale, won the Pulitzer for music in 2008. Co-commissioned by Carnegie Hall and the Perth Theater and Concert Hall, the work is inspired by Bach's Matthew Passion and the recording on Harmonia Mundi won a Grammy in 2010 for Best Small Ensemble performance. Tim Page of the Washington Post wrote "I don't think that I've ever been so moved a new composition as I was by David Lang's the little match girl passion, which is unlike any music I know."

Grant just finished casting the show, which will feature a shear, minimalist style with a quartet of singers doubling on percussion. The story will be told Butoh-style, with choreography performed by Anastazia Loiuse/Bad Unkl Sista. Barnaby Palmer will conduct and Grant will direct the production. Casting details will be forthcoming.

the little match girl passion will be performed in the intimate ODC Theater on March 23, 24, and a matinee on March 25.  Consider it not to missed.

Alfredo Rodríguez in Berkeley

Alfredo Rodríguez returned to the Bay Area Sunday night for the first time since 2009, when he made his local debut in a well-received SFJazz show. The hype around the young Cuban pianist hasn't died down since then, though he's only just now about to release his first album, Sounds of Space (on Quincy Jones' Qwest label). Indeed there were many in the house who were at that last show eagerly anticipating his return, this time in Berkeley, courtesy of Cal Performances, and he certainly delivered a performance worthy of the hype and high expectations.

Originally announced as a solo recital, I was pleased to see the stage set up for a trio. Shortly after 7 Rodríguez, bass player Peter Slavov and percussionist Francisco Mela walked onstage and they began with Rodríguez's ironically titled "Silencio." Rodríguez, a classically trained musician who moved into jazz after hearing Keith Jarret's Koln recording, has absorbed a lot of Jarrett's mannerisms at the keys, from the hunched shoulders to rising off the bench almost into the piano. But the absorption has also been a musical one, as the song went into loud, sinewy passages rooted in swing that would veer into territory more closely associated with rock dynamics- at one point the tune sounded almost like an early Black Sabbath song as Rodríguez laid into extended riffs in minor keys, before the song concluded like a runaway train.

The next song was Maria Vera's "Veinte Años," which Slavov kicked off with a funky solo before Rodríguez and Meya slowed it down into son territory, and then refined it further into an elegant, Oscar Peterson-like ballad. Meya, an absolutely phenomenal drummer, played with sticks, brushes and hands as the song evolved into a rumba before closing out in full jazz mode.

Next came two more Rodríguez compositions, "El Guije" and "Transculturation." These pieces covered a lot of musical ground, at one point in "El Guije" the trio had moved far into territory many would label "new music" instead of jazz, as the pianist's classical foundation came to the fore. Mela's aggressive drumming and Slavov's steady bottom would veer from Loussier's formalism to Brubeck's bounce and then leave it all behind to play something completely unique- I found myself thinking I've never heard anything quite like these guys before, then Rodríguez would return to the minor keys, working in the theme from"The Girl from Impanema" and improvising outward until they brought the latter song home with a resounding thump.

Rodríguez took the mic, introduced the players and the previous songs, then they performed "Quízas, Quízas, Quízas" and "Guantanamera"- the first was a slow, hazy shuffle which soon shifted into something much more brooding as Rodríguez again shifted from major to minor chord progressions, working the rhythm back and forth to a point where were it not so intriguing it could have been excessive but never was. The latter classic was so heavily laden with improvisation, played as a breakneck jam, it was almost unrecognizable, and both were compellingly played.

Rodríguez returned to the stage alone for the encore- a devastatingly beautiful rendition of the bolero "Como fue" by Ernesto Duarte, which was accompanied by some one's phone going off in a manner that was particularly egregious, all the more so because its owner refused to silence it while the voicemail options went off through the hall. I almost expected a repeat of the infamous recent New York episode was about to unfold, but Rodríguez played through it, his back to the offender, seemingly unruffled by the disturbance.