CLASSICAL MUSIC REVIEWS
BY BRUCE-MICHAEL GELBERT
[01] Radiant mezzo-soprano Olga Borodina
[02] Salute to Cole Porter, with the New York City Gay Men’s Chorus
[03] Ravel’s “L’Heure espagnole” and “L’Enfant et les sortilèges” at NYC Opera
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| Olga Borodina | |
Radiant Russian Mezzo
Olga Borodina, mezzo-soprano, Dmitri Yefimov, pianist
Alice Tully Hall, March 14, 1999
Lincoln Center Great Performers Art of the Song series.
Russian mezzo-soprano Olga Borodina, responsible at the Metropolitan Opera this season for French and Italian roles, in addition to a Russian part, returned to music of her homeland for her recital, assisted by pianist Dmitri Yefimov, at Alice Tully Hall on March 14. The afternoon program was presented as part of Lincoln Center’s Great Performers “Art of the Song” series.
Borodina lavished radiant sound on tragic songs by Peter Ilyich Tchaikovsky, singing achingly, despairingly of love that has ended in “Ni slova, o moy drug”(“Not a word, beloved”), “Otchevo?” (“Why?”), and “Nyet, tol’ko tot kto znal” (“None but the lonely heart”), before turning gently to a timeless lullaby (“Kolybelnaya”), in which a mother summons great cosmic forces—wind, sun, the eagle—and tames the mighty wind to help rock her child to sleep. The mood turned brighter, briefly, as the singer infused with eagerness no less intense, but more optimistic views of love in “Ty byla ranneyu vesnoy” (“It was in the early spring”) and “Zakatilas solntse” (“The sun has set”), returning to desolation in “Snova, kak prezhde, adeen” (“Again, as before, I am alone”).
Moving to more effusive, expansive music of Sergei Rachmaninoff, Borodina lent lush, vibrant tone to “V molchani nochi tainoi” (“In the silence of the mysterious night”), “Zdiez khorosho” (“How fair it is here”), and “Sirien” (“Lilacs”), her delivery ecstatic or euphoric by turns. She brought plangency to “O, nie grusti!” (“Do not grieve”) and “Ja zhdu tiebia” (“I’m waiting for you”), the last containing hints of hope.
The mezzo’s gripping “Songs and Dances of Death,” by Modest Mussorgsky, began with a different sort of lullaby from the Tchaikovsky one. In an “Erlkönig”-like dialogue, Borodina aptly contrasted voices of an agitated mother, frightened for her child, and calm, inexorable Death. With imposing, dark timbre, she depicted a dashing Death, enticing a feverish maiden with a serenade beneath her window. Borodina’s Death slyly, seductively danced an old, drunken man into his grave and, finally, on the battlefield, Death’s rousing martial call gave way to a solemn dirge, sung in dusky tone.
Her encores, all opera arias, began with a classically sculpted, richly vocalized “Ombra mai fu,” from George Frideric Handel’s Serse. Her “Mon coeur,” from Camille Saint-Saëns’ Samson et Dalila, with which she and Plácido Domingo began the Met season, was ravishing, silky and sultry, and capped with a bright high B-flat. A surprise was a glorious “Summertime,” from George Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess, marked by a serious attempt at idiomatic phrasing.
The next Lincoln Center Great Performers “Art of the Song” recital will be given by tenor Ian Bostridge, with pianist Julius Drake, on April 11 at 2 p.m. at Alice Tully Hall. Music of Franz Schubert and Hugo Wolf is to be the fare. Tickets, priced at $32, are available at the Tully Hall box office at Lincoln Center, by calling Centercharge at 212-721-6500.
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| Cole Porter | |
Dazzling Choral Porter
Swellegant Elegance, Music of Cole Porter
New York City Gay Men’s Chorus at Carnegie Hall
March 15, 1999.
On March 15, the refined 175-voice New York City Gay Men’s Chorus, under the baton of new Music Director Barry Oliver, celebrated the life and music of an earlier gay spirit, composer Cole Porter, in a scintillating concert at Carnegie Hall entitled “Swellegant Elegance.” There was music familiar and rare, accompanied by pianist Leslie Downs, and welcome appearances by a pair of guest artists from Broadway.
Playwright and actor Harvey Fierstein (Torch Song Trilogy, La Cage aux Folles), hosting the salute, introduced “Swellegant Elegance” by reciting the first lines of the refrain of “Anything Goes” in that unmistakable throaty tone of his. Chorus members, asserting their presence and identity, pointedly began the verse “Times have changed” locked in each other’s embrace and discreetly changed a later line to “Those guys today that men prize today.” A corps of tap dancers augmented this stirring opening number.
Fierstein offered bits of Porter’s biography throughout the performance, covering his career composing for theatre and film, his entry into the highest echelon of society and ensuing caustic musical commentary, his taste in men, his marriage of convenience, and the riding accident that damaged his legs irreparably.
The polished choral singing started in a hush and swelled in a medley of Cole classics “Night and Day,” “I’ve Got You Under My Skin,” and “In the Still of the Night.” The singers gave a wry, vehement reading to “I Hate Men,” the heroine’s credo from Kiss Me, Kate. They exchanged gossipy tidbits in a brittle “Well, Did You Evah!” In the evening’s sharpest change of mood, the Chorus brought a tear to the eye with sentimental waltz “True Love,” then segued into “Be a Clown,” enlivened by the slapstick antics of the New York Goofs, a guest troupe.
With knowing naiveté, guest Kristin Chenoweth (You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown) delivered a rendition of “My Heart Belongs to Daddy” that was at once brassy and sweet, belted and legit. Her solo, “I Get a Kick Out of You,” and “Wunderbar,” with the Chorus, further proved that bel canto and Broadway can co-exist. Chenoweth and Fierstein collaborated on a tongue-in-cheek “Love for Sale” that ended with some competitive trading of cadenzas. (She won).
Talented individuals and groups within the Gay Men’s Chorus were also given their due. In glitzy red dress and long blonde wig, in his travesti persona as Jacqueline Jonée, Chorus baritone John D. Nieman proffered pertinent siren song “Is it the Girl? (Or Is it the Gown?)” Tenors Marc Bailey and James Pfister sang a reflective “Wouldn’t It Be Fun,” a paean to the ordinary life, from Porter’s final musical, Aladdin, written for television. A propos of Porter’s attraction to “rough trade,” a trio in police uniform flirted lyrically with danger in “I Want to Be Raided by You.” An ingratiating quartet gave a swinging Latin flavor to “Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall in Love,” following it with heartfelt accounts of “Do I Love You?” and “Easy to Love.” The Chorus’ Chamber Choir treated “Miss Otis Regrets,” the piquant tale of love and revenge, as a dulcet a cappella madrigal.
Midway through the evening, the Chorus presented a check from its AIDS Outreach Fund to service organization Momentum AIDS Project.
This extraordinary ensemble concluded its concert on an upbeat note with “You’re the Top,” complete with a rare bawdy verse, entrusted here to Fierstein, and Chenoweth and the Chorus men’s sizzling “Blow, Gabriel, Blow,” with some stratospheric-sounding top tones interpolated by Chenoweth.
The Gay Men’s Chorus returns to Carnegie Hall on June 17 at 8 p.m. for “Common Ground: a Celebration of Gay Pride,” which features an appearance by Sound Circle, a women’s musical group from Boulder, Colorado, and the world premiere of a commissioned work memorializing gay-bashing victim Matthew Shepard. Tickets priced from $10 to $75 can be obtained by calling Carnegie Charge at 212-247-7800.
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| Amy Burton and Thomas Trotter in "L'Heure espagnole" at NYC opera (photo by Carol Rosegg) | |
Refreshing Ravel
L’Heure espagnole and L’Enfant et les sortilèges by Maurice Ravel.
New York City Opera at New York State Theatre
March 19, 1999. Also March 25th at 7:30 p.m., 27th & April 3rd at 1:30 p.m., 7th at 7:30 p.m., & 10th at 8 p.m.
Tickets $20-90 at New York State Theatre box office, Lincoln Center
phone 212-870-5570.
On March 19, the New York City Opera revived its delightful double bill of “L’Heure espagnole” (“The Spanish Hour”) and “L’Enfant et les sortilèges” (“The Child and the Enchantments”), charming one-act operas by Maurice Ravel, in productions directed by Frank Corsaro and designed by children’s author and illustrator Maurice Sendak, after an absence of nine years. Guiding the orchestra and casts of exceptional lyric singers was conductor and company Music Director George Manahan.
The first opera concerns a bored Spanish doña, Concepcion, married to a much older man, the clockmaker Torquemada. To while away the time during her husband’s absence, she receives adoring gentlemen callers and, on the verge of getting caught, hides them, most resourcefully, inside the huge grandfather clocks in her spouse’s shop. The no-less-practical Torquemada makes the best of things by selling the clocks to her guilty suitors. Whimsical clocks, in the forms of a dog, a rooster, a skeleton with an hour glass, and a lady with a mandolin adorned the airy set. A trio of mimes, in keeping with the theme, portrayed wind-up automatons.
Soprano Amy Burton, as Concepcion, sang a fiery plaint about the sorry nature of the buffoons who would woo her. Experienced character tenor John Lankston was a knowing Torquemada, master of his trade and of the situation he finds at home. Baritone Kurt Ollmann, making a distinguished company debut as the strong, dumb and pliant muleteer, Ramiro, answer to the lady’s dreams, delivered a buoyant apostrophe the charms of Concepcion between treks up and down stairs, toting the weighty clocks. Another impressive debutant was tenor Thomas Trotter, as the wide- and wild-eyed poet, Gonzalve, given to high-flown fancies and engaging in an extravagant, stylized love scene with the doña to Ravel’s angular rhapsodic strains. Anchoring the cast was bass Kevin Glavin as the well-padded bureaucrat Don Inigo Gomez, whose words of love brought forth cynical orchestral commentary. A joyous habañera for the full quintet rounded out this half of the evening.
In “L’Enfant,” a spoiled child runs amok. Furniture and crockery that he has damaged, coming to life and singing and dancing; figures from the pages he tore out of books; and animals he has tormented prepare to exact revenge. When they see him bind the hurt paw of a squirrel, wounded in the melée, and they forgive him and join him in calling for “Maman” to assist him. Filmed sequences, executed by Ronald Chase, using the wonderful Sendak designs, helped expand the scope of the child’s garden and imaginatively illustrated such elements, called for in the opera, as the dancing fire, escaped from the fireplace. Too often, however, this staging exiles singers to the wings, so that they have to be amplified excessively in order to be heard.
Soprano Marguerite Krull made a persuasive debut as the child, who, in this context, brought to mind Max from Sendak’s own Where the Wild Things Are. Also making a favorable impression in the large cast were high sopranos Anita Johnson (debut) as an Eastern Princess from the child’s storybook, Jami Rogers as the coloratura fire and the nightingale, and Robin Blitch Wiper as a Shepherdess, ripped from the wallpaper of the child’s room; mezzo-soprano Carla Wood (who doubled as the child’s mother) and baritone Michael Chioldi (debut) as a slinky pair of cats; and tenor Benjamin Brechet as the scolding Arithmetic, spouting dizzying fragments of math problems. [BMG]
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