Displaying items by tag: Lyric Opera of Chicago

It’s December, which means Chicago’s theaters are in full-on holiday mode. Traditional theater takes a break at some of our major houses as festive productions of holiday classics trod the local boards. Those who do not celebrate Christmas aren’t to be left out. For family fun entertainment, Lyric Opera offers up an all-new production of Massenet’s classic French opera “Cendrillon” which is of course Cinderella in French.

Last produced in Chicago over 100 years ago, this vivid production directed by Laurent Pelly makes its Lyric Opera premiere. Massenet was largely overlooked in his own lifetime, ‘Cendrillon’ premiered in 1899, but did not make much splash outside of France. Massenet was always popular with French audiences but by the early 1930s, had been largely forgotten. It wasn’t until the last half of the 19th century that Massenet’s work enjoyed the renaissance it deserved. Much of his enduring popularity is because of his charming version of Cinderella. It has a very French sense of humor that holds up as well as beautiful music in easy-to-understand French no less.

Laurent’s vision is perfectly story book for this fairy tale. The staging is relatively modest in scale, but the over the top in execution. Acting as wall paper, the original words of Charles Perrault (who is credited as the originator of the Cinderella story as we know it) are projected onto the set pieces. Almost to say, the words are as important as the music. A lovely image countered by the flamboyant red costumes designed by Laurent Pelly himself.

While it’s the composer’s intention for the role of Prince Charming to be sung by a female soprano, there’s something a little distracting about Alice Coote’s performance. It’s nearly impossible to forget she’s a woman and that is somewhat confusing in a 1600s-era romance. The rest of the show lacks any LGBT of queer context making the choice all the more confusing. That said, Siobhan Stagg makes her American debut as Cendrillon. She’s as lovely as her voice and conveys the character’s sense of integrity throughout. An incredible voice that picks up the slack of an otherwise bland cast.

When considering the bevy of holiday and family friendly shows Chicago has to offer this time of year, “Cendrillon” might not be your best bet. This is a lovely version of the classic fairy tale, but it’s hard to imagine this would be engaging to children who might be more enthusiastic about ‘The Nutcracker’ or anything at the Broadway in Chicago theaters. That is not to say this isn’t a good opera, but it tends to fall into a trap of being boring to kids and not exciting enough for adults. If you’ve been dying to see Massenet’s version of Cinderella in Chicago, by all means don’t skip as it could be another 100 years before we see it again. Otherwise, you may be more enthralled by “Il Trovatore” running concurrently at the Lyric.

Through January 20th at Lyric Opera. 20 N Wacker Drive. 312-827-5600

Lyric Opera of Chicago
ANNA NETREBKO in Recital
“Day and Night”
MALCOLM MARTINEAU, piano

Once or twice in a lifetime, an artist will arise who is the Diva Assoluta of her generation. Joan Sutherland and Maria Callas come to mind. If you are extremely lucky, in the right place at the right time, you may get to hear that artist. Sunday afternoon the stars aligned for a Chicago audience when Superstar soprano Anna Netrebko made a rare visit to Chicago, not as the leading lady in an opera, but in solo recital. Sadly, we don’t get to see her often in Chicago, yet this recital provided a welcome opportunity to bask in the glow of her immensely bounteous talent. The Ardis Krainik Theater was filled to capacity to see this remarkable artist in a program entitled “Day and Night”, with Malcom Martineau at the piano and assisting artists Jennifer Johnson Cano, mezzo-soprano, and Robert Hanford, violin.

“Day and Night” is a simple premise, but it allowed for a very entertaining and clever program. Rather than group songs by composer, language, or era, the selections followed the theme as though they were ideas and thoughts in a wonderful conversation with a good friend over a bottle of fine wine. The first part of the program featured songs of day: flowers, hope, light and the lark. And love, first and foremost, love. The second half, of course, included songs of evening: lullabies, the moon, and dreams. And love, always, love. Ms. Netrebko lovingly presented songs and arias in five languages, starting in her native Russian.

Sweeping onto the stage, she wore a white satin gown, off one shoulder with a voluminous shimmering white satin skirt bearing a simple large pastel abstract floral image. Carrying an armful of blossoms, she launched into three songs by Sergei Rachmaninoff, “Siren” (“Lilacs” in English), “U moego okna” (“Before my window”), and “Zjdes horosho” (“How lovely it is here”). These songs are technically problematical, demanding a full dramatic sound in the singer’s lower range and soaring high notes, but Netrebko sang with ease throughout her range, with meltingly lovely pianissimos, and in “U moego okna” a sustained high note of such exquisite, shimmering beauty that it left us gasping for breath. It takes an artist of great courage, skill, and integrity to open a program with pieces requiring such technical and artistic mastery, yet Netrebko sang them flawlessly. In contrast, Pavarotti often opened with simple Italian songs, like “Caro, Mio ben” to help him warm up and feel comfortable with the audience. We were grateful for the supertitles above the stage that projected the English translations, but with Netreblo’s glorious, rich voice and astonishing stage presence, it was hard to take our eyes off of her. However, we really didn’t need to glance at them, clearly demonstrating that when a singer is truly committed to the words and the intent of the composer, the meaning of each song will manifest itself in the language of music.

We have been taught to expect that in recital, each selection should be like a miniature portrait with all the detail and beauty of a larger work, as if each song held the import of a full-length opera. Not many singers are capable of achieving this, but Ms. Netrebko made each selection a masterwork on a grand scale. There is nothing miniature in these songs for her. She inhabited each piece and told their stories with the unfailing honest commitment, distinct color, mood and meaning that she brings to all her major roles in grand opera. Unlike so many recitalists who seem nailed to the floor in the crook of the piano, Ms. Netrebko took the whole stage, never meandering aimlessly, but in well thought out, yet seemingly spontaneous dramatic expressions of the story she was telling.

Throughout the afternoon, from her brilliant top to her darkly shaded lower voice, her voice was seamless and splendid. Following the Rachmaninoff, was an appropriately full voiced rendition or “The lark sings louder” by Rimsky-Korsakov. She was then joined by Robert Hanford, Concertmaster of the Lyric Opera Orchestra in “Morgen”, by Richard Strauss. Hanford played sublimely with such sweet tone in such perfect tune that the world seemed for a moment to be at peace. In the hands of a lesser artist, “Morgen” can often be dull and dreary, but Netrebko’s reading of the text was transcendent. In a remarkable moment of stagecraft and inherent theatricality, Netrebko used the entire long, slow introduction to “Morgen” to transfix us with nothing more than a simple long turn from upstage to sing to directly to Mr. Hanford as the object of the poet’s infatuation.

Netrebko sang to us all afternoon with an unlimited generosity of tone and spirit, filling the opera house with gorgeous vocalism infused with such immense humanity that it seemed as though each of us was the only person there. One wants to put her on a pedestal to worship her and at the same time, cuddle up with her under a blanket to have cocoa and share intimate secrets.

Debussy’s “Il pleure dans mon couer” followed, and ever so subtly a gentleman opened an umbrella in the left front corner of the house. It didn’t distract, it just underlined the idea of the falling rain. It was a little surreal, reminiscent of Magritte, but it added unique dramatic visual interest.

“Depuis le jour” from Charpentier’s opera, Louise, was next and it would be hard to imagine that anyone ever sang it with more beauty and tenderness. Ms. Netrebko inhabited this aria and let it flow in rapturous ecstasy and exquisite delicacy. She was radiant in two songs by Tchaikovsky, “It happened in the early spring” and “Tell me, what is in the shadow of the branches”.

For the final two selections of the first part, “Go not, happy day”, by Frank Bridge and Leoncavallo’s popular “Mattinata”, Ms. Netrebko eschewed the proverbial invasive and impersonal music stand, a la Pavarotti, and casually strolled over behind the piano to be in position to check the music, in case the words escaped her. But she made it seem perfectly natural, as if she was singing at home for friends in an intimate soiree and wanted to make sure that they didn’t go away without hearing a couple of her favorite songs.

After intermission, the stage turned from the golden color of the day to a violet color of early evening. Ms. Netrebko changed into a black gown with a dazzling sequined spider web design - so dazzling that you could see it reflected in the glossy black of the Steinway piano the few times she stood in front of it.

Ms. Netrebko opened the second part with Lisa and Polina’s sensuously lovely duet, “Uzh vecher” (“It is evening”), from Tchaikovsky’s Queen of Spades. Jennifer Johnson Cano’s strong, warm mezzo soprano voice is a perfect match with Ms. Netrebko’s dusky soprano. More Tchaikovsky, Rimsky-Korsokov and Rachmaninoff songs followed, as well as an unlikely, yet lovely “Apres un rêve” by Faure, and a heart-melting “Songs my Mother taught me” by Dvorak. The highlight, if anything could be better than all the excellence so far, may have been three more songs by Strauss, “Die Nacht”, “Wiegenlied” and “Ständchen”. In part, we may have enjoyed the Strauss so much because of the promise the songs held for the future to hear Ms. Netrebko’s interpretation of the role of Marchalin in Der Rosenkavelier. Yet, equally astonishing was her rendition of Baby Doe’s aria, “Gold is a fine thing” from Douglas Moore’s opera, The Ballad of Baby Doe, in which her characterization of the actual person made history make sense. Then, as if the evening’s fare wasn’t already rich enough, Ms. Johnson Cano returned for a sensuous Barcarolle from Les Contes d’Hoffman”. Yummy, Plummy, with whipped cream!

Mr. Martineau played the challenging piano accompaniments flawlessly, with an incandescent touch. His delicate and elegant pianism added much to the ethereal qualities inherent in these songs. One might occasionally have wished for a bigger sound, particularly in the opera selections, but that would be a mere quibble given the overall distinction with which he played.

The fitting final offering of the printed program was “Den’ li carit” (“Whether day dawns”), by Tchaikovsky. “Whether night or day reigns… it is always you”, tied the program together nicely, but it seemed that this extraordinary artist was actually thanking us for being her audience. In truth, we are beyond blessed to have a singer with so much artistry and humanity, and such a complete mastery of vocalism stand before us, sharing so generously her grace, charm, and complete love for her art. In a rare true standing ovation, the crowd rose to its feet as one, and the rousing bravos and cheers demanding an encore were the most robust we’ve seen in the Civic Opera House. Ms. Netrebko and Mr. Martineau obliged, returning for a spectacular “Il Bacio” by Arditi, with her trademark sparkling coloratura. After another extended ovation, we were treated to an expansive, full throated second encore, “Cäcilie” by Strauss.

Let us hope that Ms. Netrebko can return to Chicago soon. She is “Diva Assoluta” - the queen of the goddesses.

As in a perfect storm, where a variety of different factors come together, augmenting the force above and beyond what is imaginable, Lyric Opera of Chicago brought together a group of singers who may, together and individually, define the interpretation of the music of Verdi for our time. The famous tenor Enrico Caruso is quoted as having said, “Il Trovatore is easy to produce, all you need are the five greatest singers in the world”. The Lyric Opera of Chicago has found five outstanding singers, any one of which would have made for a satisfying night in the opera house, but all together they created a perfect storm of thrilling vocalism. Implicit in Mr. Caruso’s statement is that the demands of each of the leading roles require artists at the top of their game. This ensemble delivered a performance which provided the very essence of why we go to the opera. There were moments when just the exquisite sound of their ensemble brought tears to our eyes for no other reason than the pure beauty of the human voice. The sensation wasn’t perceived so much as sustained sound, but more as blow to the chest which leapt across the footlights without warning. If you have never been to the opera, these singers will viscerally make you understand why opera is loved so passionately. If you already love opera, you owe it to yourselves to do whatever it takes to hear these singers.

Il Trovatore, or The Troubador is one of the three pivotal operas of Verdi’s middle period, along with Rigoletto and La traviata (to be heard later this season at LOC) where Verdi begins to move away from the early 19th century bel canto style toward a more through-composed music drama. The stories of Rigoletto and La traviata are more deeply personal and intimate than Il Trovatore, although the story is still based on historical themes of a very human nature, but on a grander, heightened scale. This is no ordinary love triangle - empowered aristocrat / beautiful young noblewoman / dashing rebel - the rivals in love are important adversaries in a major struggle for power which historically occurred in the kingdom of Aragon in early 16th century Spain. It is part of a period in which the common man began to assert his inalienable rights and demand concessions from the aristocracy all throughout Europe. To make it really fun, add to that an old gypsy woman, still obsessively grieving over her mother’s execution at the stake many, many years ago. In her terror and confusion at that horrible event, a baby also ended up in the fire. Ah, but whose baby? Grisly stuff, but not any worse than anything you might have seen on “Vikings” or “Game of Thrones”. Verdi pulled out all the stops to portray these immense passions. The big musical numbers are one blockbuster after another, interspersed with poignant, tender, and mournful music, all of which require every sort of virtuosity to perform.

Yet, in spite of the greatness of this opera, the improbability of the plot is considered fair game for ridicule. You may suspect Gilbert & Sullivan are parodying it in “Pirates of Penzance”, and it was the opera performed in the Marx Brothers film “A Night at the Opera”. Admittedly, there are a few times when, in lesser productions, our suspension of disbelief falls flat. Not so in this revival of the production directed Sir David Mc Vicar, a true master of stage-craft, and faithfully re-staged for Lyric Opera of Chicago by Roy Rallo. The staging challenges are deftly handled by a director who obviously loves the art form, trusts the music, trusts that his singers will communicate with the audience, and that the audience is intelligent, open, and willing to understand the intentions of the composer. Mc Vicar’s staging tells the story simply, yet with a deep understanding which enables the audience to be fully engaged, while making sure that the singers are not left hanging out to dry or trying to pull off unwarranted antics, as theater directors who don’t really understand opera insist upon through their own lack of knowledge or insecurities.

The design and style of the production is reminiscent of the paintings of Goya, conjuring images of the stark contrast between the Spanish nobility and working class. Although Goya’s paintings were of events which happened about 250 years after the historical events of Il Trovatore, the setting, designed by Charles Edwards, is evocative and workable. It is dominated by a huge wall on a turntable revealing different settings, from the fortress at Castellor, to a convent, and to mountainous gypsy encampments, allowing the action to move along without long pauses or multiple intermissions. Marco Armiliato conducted the always wonderful Lyric Opera Orchestra with a great understanding of Verdi and a keen sense of pacing. The musical and dramatic energy never lagged, yet never became frenzied. He was especially sensitive to the extraordinary singers, allowing them to be heard and, most importantly, giving them time to be sublime.

Speaking of sublime, how can we start to describe the perfect storm of vocalism which was created by an ensemble of some of the greatest Verdi voices of our age? Every singer was ideally cast in these difficult roles. Tenor Russell Thomas, who recently made a fine impression as Pollione in Norma, was well up to the daunting task of the Troubador, Manrico. His clarion tenor, so powerful at full voice, was tenderly sympathetic in the softer moments, when his color became more burnished. Manricos’ aria, “Ah, si, ben mio”, was lyrical, idiomatic and meltingly lovely. The ball-buster cabaletta that follows, the famous and rousing ”Di quella pira” was more than adequate, if not quite equal to Mr. Thomas’ complete command of the totality of the role. In fact, we felt cheated and wondered why the second verse was cut. However, this is fully understandable. Growing up with the sound of Corelli and Pavarotti singing this aria would be daunting to any young tenor, and trying to sing it too soon in one’s career is more than likely to build in habits which require a leap of faith to overcome. Mr. Russell shouldn’t be nervous. If he would approach the aria with the same superb vocalism with which he sings the rest of the role, it would be electrifying!

As Leonora, the woman Manrico loves, Tamara Wilson was nothing less than spectacular in her Lyric Opera debut. A winner of the highly prestigious Richard Tucker Award, she dazzled us with her shimmering voice, full from top to bottom, with exquisite pianissimos, stunning high notes and crystal clear coloratura. A true Verdian soprano, there was no high point to her performance. It was all superb, from her sweet “Tacea la notte placida” to the heart rending “Miserere”. Ms. Wilson presents a Leonora who is ingenuous, vulnerable, and tender, yet who displays a plucky determination, passion, and inner strength missing in many interpretations of the role. Let’s hope she returns to Chicago often!

There are very few Verdi baritones singing today who can match Artur Rucinski (or no longer with us, for that matter). In his first appearance in Chicago (oh please, PLEASE don’t let it be his last!) he was perfect, absolutely perfect, as Count di Luna. Mr. Rucinski is handsome, has a manly, but genuine stage presence, and has a voice, the likes of which we have not heard since Leonard Warren and Robert Merrill. He played di Luna as an entitled member of the nobility, but with the real life feelings of a young man, bereft of his brother, and in love with a woman who, for reasons incomprehensible to him, loves a “nobody”. His rich baritone has the power and color for his moments of agitation and anger, but most astonishing was his rendition of di Luna’s great aria, “Il balen del suo sorriso”. It is one of the sweetest and most passionate of all baritone arias, even while manically obsessing about his love for Leonora. Mr. Rucinski’s interpretation was so elegantly sung, it was like warm honey pouring from a jar. Normally we don’t give a hoot where a singer may breathe or not breathe. If a singer sings beautifully and with meaning, we’re happy, even if one needs to sneak a catch breath or two. But Mr. Rucinski’s feat of breath control in his opening phrase of the aria was beyond comprehension. Not only did he not use the opportunities to breathe during the rests which Verdi wrote into the music, he sustained the line through several phrases which united the text in a way which is unprecedented. With some baritones, it might have been a show-off trick, but Mr. Rucinski was so sincere and pure, it was as if time stood still as his thoughts and feelings flowed out of him. If we hadn’t been seated, we would have become weak in the knees.

The gypsy, Azucena, is a troubled soul. Her mother was burned at the stake for witchcraft, and she lives only for vengeance. She has raised Manrico and loves him as any mother loves her own son. The part is often played with hair-raising intensity, bordering on the grotesque. Jamie Barton was a more sympathetic character and sang the role more beautifully, not in small part due to the pathos inherent in her warm full mezzo soprano. Still chilling, yes, but believable.

The Captain of di Luna’s Guard, Ferrando, usually sung by an older basso, was impressively sung by Roberto Tagliavini. He has a marvelous, ample voice, and it is a rare pleasure to hear all the little passing notes sung so tidily. But a big voice alone is not enough. True artistry requires the expression and inflection of the meaning of the words. Mr. Tagliavini’s spectacular voice poured out in an enveloping stream, but with no variation or indication that he understood what he was singing about, even though he hails from Parma, Italy. He could become a great artist if he stopped trying to impress us with how loudly he can sing, and used the music to help explain the emotions behind the meaning of the words. Let’s hope that his musicality and artistry will develop further as his career progresses.

The small roles of Ines, Leonora’s chaperone, and Ruiz, Manrico’s messenger, were luxuriously filled by Ryan Center artists Lauren Decker and Mario Rojas.

The chorus is a big player in this opera in a Cecil B. deMille cast of thousands sort of way: soldiers, rebels, guards, gypsies, outlaws, nuns etc. All were well sung as prepared by Michael Black and well integrated into the action. The confrontation at the end of Act II was without a doubt one of the most exciting fight scenes we’ve witnessed on the live opera stage. Bravo Nick Sandys, Fight Director!

This Il Trovatore is, as we so often say in opera, much greater than the sum of its parts. The good news is there are four performances remaining November 30, December 3, 6 and 9. It’s a winner. Don’t miss it. Go to lyricopera.org for tickets now!

Siegfried, the third installment of Richard Wagner’s monumental cycle, The Ring of the Niebelungen, opened in a comic-book fairy tale, if not quite mythical version this past Saturday evening to an enthusiastic full house at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. In the preceding two seasons, the prologue, Das Rheingold and then Die Walküre were presented in this production directed by David Pountney. The final opera, Die Götterdämmerung will be mounted next year, and all four will be performed in the 2020 season. It will sell out quickly to an international audience of Wagnerites who fly all over the world to see the complete Ring, so buy your tickets as soon as you can!

Richard Wagner was a flawed human being. His music is not. It is the very pinnacle of 19th century German romantic opera, from which later, great composers went this way or that, but never higher. Bad people can write good music, just as good people can write bad music. I would never vote for the man if he were running dog catcher (apologies to dogs), but you should never miss any opportunity to hear his magnificent music dramas performed live in a major opera house. With Sir Andrew Davis expertly leading the outstanding Lyric Opera Orchestra, which is the true star of the show, Siegfried is a “must see”. Especially magnificent were the low brass, complete with Wagner tubas, invented just for the Ring. But this is Chicago, and the ghost of Georg Solti lives!

The very first thing that Wagner Newbies instinctively worry about is the seemingly daunting length of Wagner’s operas. DON’T! Think of it as an evening spent binge watching three or four episodes of Game of Thrones, with time to go get a beer and a snack after each episode. If you allow yourself to be carried along by the current of the glorious music, as a leaf floats on a rushing stream, there is little awareness of the passing time. We’ve been to a lot of shorter operas that have felt far longer. There aren’t many better ways to spend a few hours of your life.

Since the pivotal Jahrhundertring production of The Ring celebrating its centenary in 1976, directors and designers have almost religiously eschewed the traditional, and often caricatured, horned helmets and breastplates, letting their imaginations run wild and leaving us at the mercy of regietheater. This production of Siegfried is much more watchable than the one last presented by the Lyric over a dozen years ago, but some over-the-top and over-done business took away from an otherwise workable, if lightweight version. The scenery, originally designed by Johan Engels and now in the hands of Robert Innes Hopkins, is creative and fanciful on a large fairy-tale, rather than legendary, scale. The tall, movable scaffolds on either side of the stage, which mimic imagined stage machinery from ancient Greek drama, serve a multitude of useful and imaginative purposes. The production elements, including the inflatable oversized giants in Das Rheingold, and the dragon Fafner in this opera, take the work out of the realm of profound allegory and make it whimsical – too whimsical perhaps, along the lines of Sendack’s Where the Wild Things Are. We thought on more than one occasion “you should bring the grand-kids to see this!” And maybe you should, so that one day they will return to see a grown-up production.

The story picks up about 18 years after Wotan (king of the gods) left his favorite daughter, Brünhilde, sleeping on a rock surrounded by fire. He did this as punishment for disobeying her father by trying to help Wotan’s bastard son, Siegmund who was conceived with a mortal human, in battle against Hunding, the abusive husband of Siegmund’s twin sister, #metoo, Sieglinde. Siegmund was then killed, as Wotan’s wife and the Goddess of Marriage, Fricka commanded. Siegmund’s magic sword, Notung, was broken to be repaired only by a hero who does not know fear. Sieglinde died giving birth to the son that she and Siegmund conceived in an adulterous and incestuous moment of passion. That son, little Siegfried (remember him?), was raised by the dwarf Mime, not out of the kindness of his heart, as he would have Siegfried believe, but knowing that one day the orphan would grow up to be the great hero that will recover the stolen magic ring (yes, the Ring) which is guarded by the dragon Fafner (who used to be a giant), allowing Mime to rule the world, instead of his brother Alberich, who had the ring made from a lump of gold found in the Rhein river. Are you keeping up? If it seems a little confusing, no worries; in these operas someone will say what has happened before, what is going to happen, then it will happen, and then someone will say what has just happened because of what happened before. The projected titles in English by Colin Ure distilled Wagner’s sometimes dense prose into understandable, if somewhat prosaic dialogue, making it easy to follow the story.

The opening scene is set in the secluded hut where Siegfried, now grown, lives alone with Mime. Yet, as conceived by David Pountney and Johann Engels, this strangely takes the form of a nursery or day care classroom. Children’s drawings cover the wall, oversized table, chairs and a play pen filled with toys relentlessly remind us that Siegfried is young, naïve and ignorant of the world outside of this little abode and the surrounding forest. In answer to Siegfried’s questions about his parentage, Mime answers that he himself has been both father and mother to the boy, which probably explains why Mime is sporting a ladies negligee over his pants and boots. In this get-up, with his strong arms bared, images of Corporal Klinger from MASH were hard to dispel. Nevertheless, while Mime has taught him much, Siegfried has never learned what fear is.

Sigmund’s broken sword, Nothung, able to be repaired only by a hero who has never learned to fear (see above) is now in the possession of Mime. The dwarf’s familiarity with fear renders him manically frustrated in his inability to re-forge Nothung. However, since Siegfried has never known fear, he is able to repair his father’s sword, aided by a white-board easel of step by step instructions and a shipment of necessary equipment intended to look like it came from Amazon Prime (you know the label), and carried in by Mime’s mimes. We’re not making that up. They actually had mimes. Seventeen of ‘em. They were good mimes. Giant bellows high in the scaffold fan the flames, and the water tub to cool the hot steel even comes with a little rubber ducky. If you think that sounds a little silly, it actually did work in that fairy tale, if not grand mythical, way.

Siegfried was sung by Burkhart Fritz, making his American operatic stage debut. His burnished voice has a welcome sweetness, unusual in a dramatic tenor voice. Yet, Fritz is a little underpowered for a house the size of the Lyric, demonstrating just how hard it is to find singers capable of modern Wagnerian demands. He sang exquisitely in Act Two in “Dass der mein Vater nicht ist” and in the exchanges with the bird during the “Forest Murmurs” scene. However, the “Forging Song” in Act One lacked the budding virility and exuberance of a young man ready to slay a dragon and fall in love for the first time. Fritz is a fine actor and he played his role with energy, sincerity and integrity. Unfortunately, he was costumed in a way that made him look anything but heroic, and much more like Charlie Brown just before Lucy pulls the football away. Every time he left the stage we silently implored, “Please, oh please, change your costume and come back looking like a hero!”

Matthias Klink, Opernwelt magazine’s 2017 Singer of the Year and in his Lyric Opera debut, brought great physicality and commitment to the insidiously creepy role of Mime. He used his clarion and multi-colored voice fearlessly to bring out the grotesqueness and depraved disingenuousness of the sly, evil character, singing beautifully at times, yet with moments of such intentional, albeit appropriate ugliness, that we feared for his vocal health. That kind of singing is very exciting, in a Roman Circus live-or-die sort of way.

Wotan, incognito as “The Wanderer” is nobly and sympathetically sung by Eric Owens. His rich, deeply hued voice conveys the universal majesty of the king of the gods, the intimate sadness of a father who has lost two of his favorite children and is estranged from a third, and the crushing pathos of a great leader who knows his reign is coming to an end. (It’s hard being a god in opera.) His instrument does not possess the overwhelmingly booming power of notable Wotans of the past, such as Hans Hotter, but it is more beautiful and moving. Mr. Owens is splendid in the role and eminently capable of filling the shoes of the great James Morris, even as Morris’ commanding Wotan is still vivid in our hearts and minds.

The Act Two forest setting is a simple, but enchanting forest of sail-like conifers which hides the lurking dragon and its lair. The mimes were now bearing large green leaf-like glow-stick sculptures. We’re not sure why, but it was pretty. Alberich reappears from when we last saw him two operas ago in Rheingold, looking like a homeless vagrant with all of his possessions in a modern day shopping cart, along with his severed arm macabrely preserved in a glass case. Alberich hopes that when Mime and Siegfried attempt to kill the dragon, they will both die and he, Alberich, can reclaim the magic treasure. If nothing else, these guys have stamina. The talented bass Samuel Youn returned as Alberich with his strong voice and appropriately disturbing characterization.

Fearless Siegfried now engages Fafner, the giant who has turned himself into a dragon to guard his treasure. Patrick Guetti, a former member of the Ryan Center program, with the help of a little amplification for his off-stage singing, has terrific chops for the part. The fight with the giant inflatable dragon was as exciting as anything you might see at the movies, with massive claws which would at times completely cover the singer and a fearsome maw of gargantuan teeth. Siegfried is able to whack off a piece of the dragon’s tail, which keeps twitching as the hero disappears from sight to make the fatal blow, causing the dragon to deflate. In his death throes, Fafner changes back into a giant, run through by Notung, spilling green blood. Ew. Siegfried tastes a drop and gains the ability to understand the Forest Bird, which first appeared in Act I as a puppet looking like a creature from a Dr. Suess book. In Act II, the Forest Bird was charmingly portrayed by another Ryan Center alumnus Diana Newman. She sang prettily and deserves extra points for bravery, perched as she was on the edge of the railing way up above the stage in Valhalla.

Siegfried, who still hasn’t experienced fear, takes the ring and the magic helmet, Tarnhelm, and having also gained the ability to read Mime’s thoughts, learns the dwarf was planning to drug and kill him. Who knew dragon’s blood had such power? And so, Siegfried must now kill Mime. Who ever said opera is boring? If only opera producers would have the courage to understand that it’s not.

In Act Three, Wotan goes to seek the advice of Erda, the primeval Earth Goddess, to find out how to keep the gods from becoming irrelevant. BTW, Erda is also the mother, with Wotan, of Brünhilde, the girl asleep on the fiery rock. Emerging from her subterranean sleep, Erda can listen to Wotan, but knows that the events already set in motion cannot be altered. Ronnita Miller was absolutely terrific in the short role with a voice of tremendous beauty and an astonishing low register.

So far, so good; one could quibble about this, that or the other thing, in particular the lack of gravitas in the production, but up until that point, the performance was engaging, interesting and told the story. Sadly, the final scene was a terrible disappointment. When Siegfried overcomes the flames surrounding the former Warrior Maiden, Brunhilde, we are in store for some of the most sublime, romantic, and erotically charged music ever written as the young pair discover each other. Killing a dragon was nothing compared to meeting a woman for the first time, and Siegfried finally begins to understand fear. (If you haven’t figured it out for yourselves yet, she’s his aunt.) It started promisingly enough, with their innocent trepidation, in spite of their instant attraction, but then the scaffolds turned to reveal little rooms on opposite sides of the stage, brightly painted, with balloons and a pink kiddie chair for Brünhilde and a little blue kiddie chair for Siegfried. Yes, they are young, innocent, naïve, immature etc. etc. Duh, we get it. But holding hands and swinging them back and forth, they looked more like Hansel and Gretel than the passionate couple destined to change the world forever. When they finally reclined on the grassy knoll in a copulatory embrace, it wasn’t romantic or sexy, it was just awkward. Bear in mind, Siegfried looks like Charlie Brown and Brünhilde looks like the Saint Pauli Girl. We can only hope this will be revised for the 2020 remounting. Soprano Christine Goerke, who was thrilling as Brünhilde in Die Walküre (not to mention the title role in Elektra and as Cassandra in Les Troyen), has the goods; a full dramatic sound, strong stage presence, intelligence and good acting instincts, however, she sounded as if she wasn’t quite warmed up. Could have been just one of those days, could have been having to lie still on a fiery rock for half an hour before she had to sing, no doubt she will be in better form in the future.

The Fat Lady says: Go see Siegfried!

Performances continue through November 16. Only three more performances!

For tickets: www.lyricopera.org or call 312-827-5600.

And save a few days of PTO to see the entire Ring here in 2020.

Five hours is a long time to do anything. A five-hour German opera loosely based on incest can sound even longer when given the choice on a Saturday night. That said, Lyric Opera’s new production of Wagner’s ‘Siegfried’ feels anything but long. ‘Siegfried’ is the third installment in Wagner’s four-opera ‘Ring’ cycle. Beginning in 2016, the Lyric has endeavored to produce the entire cycle with next year being the conclusion. David Pountney returns to direct this exciting production.

‘Siegfried’ is the most mysterious of the four ‘Ring’ operas. For as many people familiar with ‘Die Walkure’, just as many will have never heard of ‘Siegfried’. It is within this opera that the musical tone of the cycle shifts. Wagner took a twelve-year break in his work on the ‘Ring’ cycle and by the time he finished ‘Siegfried’ his style had changed. The music begins playfully in Act I as young Siegfried (Burkhard Fritz) learns to sword fight with his androgynous keeper, Mime (Matthias Klink), who attempts to forge swords strong enough to slay the dragon Fafner. Siegfried proves too strong and each shatter. Mime knows if he can convince naïve Siegfried to kill Fafner, the ring and its power can be his, should he kill Siegfried. A soaring second act takes place in the woods while hunting and killing the dragon. Curiously there isn’t a single female voice until nearly three hours in. It is here where Wagner’s work on the opera takes a break.

Act three Siegfried is introduced to Brunnhilde, who happens to be his aunt. Lyric welcomes back Christine Goerke in the role of Brunnhilde as she previously appeared in ‘Die Walkure’ last season. This is where Wagner picked it back up and the music becomes noticeably darker and more exciting. Burkard Fritz and Christine Goerke give spectacular performances. Their voices blend seamlessly throughout the romantic second half.

Pountney’s vision for the lesser produced ‘Siegfried’ is fascinating. Continuing with his theater-within-a-theater concept, the first scene begins in a psychedelic child’s nursery. While some may see it as absurd staging, it’s vital staging. Juxtaposed with the cinematic Wagner music, the neons in blacklight bring opera into the twenty first century. Staging for that forest in Act II is what makes this a truly memorable experience. The talented Lyric orchestra matched with stunning visuals and lighting effects created by Poutney are quite arresting.

Young people, have no fear, you can go to the opera and actually enjoy it. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but for those interested in ‘Lord of the Rings’ or ‘Game of Thrones’ perhaps consider from where those familiar plot lines whence came. The Lyric does an admirable job appealing to young audiences with an outstanding new production of an infrequently produced Wagner classic.

Through November 16th at Lyric Opera. 20 N Wacker. 312-827-5600

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s Idomeneo at the Lyric Opera of Chicago is opera as it should be, transcending all expectations. Don’t miss it! Indeed, we wonder why this uncommonly extraordinary performance did not open the Lyric Opera of Chicago season. Happily, after going dark for more than a week, forcing the initial performance scheduled for October 13 to be cancelled, the unfortunate dispute between the Musicians’ Union representing the Orchestra of the Lyric Opera of Chicago and management was successfully resolved, and Idomeneo was presented Thursday evening. The entire cast, without exception, sang splendidly, deftly handling the technically demanding florid passages and challenging long phrases, while creating real and distinct characters that earned our sympathy (thank the gods). On all counts, it was a glorious occasion.

Mozart began writing operas at the age of eleven, and had completed a dozen, or so, before he began work on Idomeneo in 1780, at the ripe old age of twenty-five. Considered to be his first “mature” opera, it is written in the “Opera Seria” style, literally “Serious opera”, a musical drama with a series of recitatives and set pieces in the early 18th century Baroque manner based upon Classical Greek or Roman themes, a form he would not return to until his final opera La Clemenza di Tito ten years later. This exquisite music, if not as well-known as his later masterpieces, is the cornerstone upon which all opera coming after it has been built, leaving no doubt of Mozart’s greatness. For that reason alone, go!

The orchestra, conducted by Sir Andrew Davis, was enthusiastically cheered before and after each curtain with shouts of support for the union from the audience. They played with a full, luxurious sound that remained within the stately structure of the classical period, and brought out all the color, nuance and innovation that raises Mozart above his peers. For that reason alone, go!

The production designed and directed by the late great Jean-Pierre Ponnelle (which by now, is probably older than the singers on the stage, yet still looks as fresh as it did when it was premiered in Köln in 1971) is in and of itself a timeless work of art. Visually pleasing, and beautifully lit by lighting designer Chris Maravich (thank the gods), Ponnelle’s setting evokes the time and place of the opera, while still allowing the audience to extend the themes in their imaginations to encompass all time and place. Ancient Grecian columns frame the stage and the mighty upstage center mask of Neptune, the real antagonist of the drama. Neptune, representing the unpredictable oceans of which he is king, is always present, either as a specter behind painted scrims, fully visible in his terrifying aspect, or even hidden from view. Above all, as it should, this stage set brilliantly serves the drama. For that reason alone, go!

The action takes place on the island of Crete after the decade long Trojan War. On his long way home, Idomeneo, King of Crete, has been caught in a raging storm at sea. He begs Neptune to spare him and in return, promises to sacrifice the first person he encounters upon shore. As operatic luck would have it, it turns out to be his own son, Idamante. Of course, father and son haven’t seen each other in years and don’t instantly recognize each other. Nevertheless, Neptune is going to expect the sacrifice Idomeneo promised.

For a story based in mythology and ancient history, it’s not hard to follow, even by opera standards. A father, who happens to be a king, loves his son and doesn’t want to lose him. We get that. That son, Idamante, has fallen in love with the Trojan Princess Ilia, being held prisoner in Crete. That happens. Princess Elettra, daughter of the Greek King, with whom Crete is allied, thinks Idamante should marry her, not the daughter of the enemy. Nothing out of the ordinary going on here. The excellent supertitles by Francis Rizzo are not at all stuffy, but explain the action and feelings understandably without dumbing it down (thank the gods). For fuller enjoyment you may want to check your crib notes from Greek mythology and the history of the Trojan War, but it’s not necessary. As in so many great stories, the large scale events provide the context for the more intimate human emotions.

Mr. Ponnelle’s original stage direction was faithfully re-set by David Knuess, who assisted Ponnelle when the production was mounted at the Metropolitan Opera in 1982 and Salzburg in 1983. Ponnelle’s consummate stagecraft subtly ensures that our attention is always drawn to the heart of the drama. Contrary to the habits of those who think they are following in the footsteps of the visionary director, absolutely nothing ever moves without a reason. No meaningless business or distracting bits. We were granted the luxury of having the singers just stand still and sing, allowing their voices to be most expressive (thank the gods)! It was one of the most moving performances seen and heard in years. For that reason alone, go!

The title role could have been written for Matthew Polanzani, who hails from Evanston and enjoys a deservedly respected career on the international stage. A true Mozartian, this role is perfect for him, his voice being better suited to this repertoire than Bel Canto or Romantic styles. His singing was superb and he gave a completely satisfying dramatic reading of the tormented father and king. For that reason alone, go!

With striking stage presence and a voice with the palette of a Monet painting, Angela Brower, reminiscent of the incomparable Frederica Von Stade, is a tremendous artist. In the role of Idamante, created for a castrato, re-worked for a tenor, but now most successfully performed by a mezzo-soprano, she gave us several of the evening’s most memorable vocal moments. Even when not uttering a sound she was riveting: Idamante’s shock and horrific pain at being rejected by his father was heartbreaking and later, during Ilia’s aria “Zeffiretti lusinghieri”, a scene that could be corny if not played just right, Idamante is visible at extreme upstage center receiving the unseen caresses carried from afar by the breezes. It took the breath away from even the most jaded of opera goers. His acceptance of his fate, and his willingness to give his life for the well-being of the community made a profound impact. For that reason alone, go!

As Ilia, Chicago native and former Chicago Opera Theater, Merola Opera, and LA Opera Young Artist, Janai Brugger was exquisite. The warm glow and golden tones of her shimmering lyric soprano lent itself to an ingenuous portrayal of the princess torn between love for her family and country and her love for Idamante. Whenever she graced the stage, she infused it with the power of hope. Ultimately, when the happiness she deserved was bestowed upon her, we shed tears of joy! After the season opener of the unfortunate La Bohème, we feared that we had become incapable of crying. For that reason alone, go!

The remarkable Erin Wall, marathon runner and soprano with a voice like diamonds set in platinum, was a sympathetic and vulnerable Elettra. She portrayed not an un-hinged shrew, but a high-strung princess used to getting her own way. In spite of Wall’s ongoing battle against cancer, her voice was never more beautiful (thank the gods!). In her rage arias her voice was spectacular and provided a perfect dramatic foil to her rival, Ilia, difficult even for someone with 100% perfect health. Wall’s Elettra was not motivated by mere jealousy of a romantic rival, but was driven to despair by the unthinkable and perhaps racist idea that Idamante would fall for an inferior Trojan woman. This assault on her sense of the proper order of things was so powerful that it resulted in a believably frenzied spontaneous death, a feat most singers are not capable of pulling off with dramatic success. To top it off, she looked fabulous in a stunning, if somewhat unwieldy, 18th Century gown with panniers which on the freeway would require red flags and a “WIDE LOAD” sign. For that reason alone, go!

David Portillo provided a solid and stable presence as Arbace, Idomeneo’s confidante. Arbace’s aria is unforgiving and demanding, yet Portillo sang superbly with musicianship, virtuosity and an urgent pathos reflecting his patriotism and loyalty to his king.

In addition to the Ryan Center alumni: Mr. Polenzani, Ms. Wall and Mr. Portillo, the uniformly excellent cast included current members of the program including Josh Lovell and Alan Higgs as two Trojan Men, Whitney Morrison and Kayleigh Decker as two Women of Crete. Each made worthy contributions and showed promise for the future, most notably Ms. Morrison. The voice of Neptune was chillingly sung by David Weigel (no spoilers, but gasps were heard) and Noah Baetge was fully credible as the High Priest. In these roles, as well as the principle roles, opera cognoscenti will enjoy recognizing the nascent characters which will eventually populate Mozart’s later works. Credit must be given to the Ryan Center for their advocacy of young talent, and to the Lyric for giving them the opportunity on the stage of, on this night, a major international opera house. It should be noted that the employment of young artists may represent a significant cost saving to LOC, yet these young artists gave us greater satisfaction than many “world class” artists would have provided (thank the gods).

Under the direction of Michael Black, the Lyric Opera Chorus sang magnificently in the big moralizing choruses that ended each act, and most impressively in the delicate “Placido è il mar” in Act II. They played their part well representing the people of Crete as a traditional Greek Chorus, reacting as one with stylized movements that were both emotionally affecting and that effectively served both the music and drama.

With respect to the recent contract dispute, it should be said that over past seasons we have had issues with a few programming decisions, issues with some singers’ performances, and issues with too many of the productions. However, we have never, ever had an issue with this orchestra. It is, especially under the baton of Sir Andrew, of the highest caliber, truly world-class, an over-worked phrase we try not to use. Their excellence stands as testimony to the unquestionable necessity of a top rank orchestra to the existence of a top rank opera house. They deserve a contract commensurate with their standing.

Bottom line: Idomeneo should not be missed. A young couple attending their first opera ever said they were enthralled, and that they were definitely coming back for more (thank the gods). Did we say you should go? Indeed, Go! Go! Go to Idomeneo.

Performances continue October 21, 24, and 28 and November 2. You might be able to get tickets at the door, but that would be a shame, because these performances should be sold out. Nevertheless, tickets are available on line at www.lyricopera.org or call 312-827-5600.

Lyric Opera of Chicago opened its 2018-19 season with Puccini’s beloved “La Boheme” last Saturday evening. Essential to any Puccini production, more than most other composers, is a faithful rendition of the specific intentions of the composer, whose theatrical instincts were equal to if not better than his musical gifts. This production succeeded musically, but utterly failed dramatically to bring out the humanity in this work that makes it so well loved.

Thankfully, Conductor Domingo Hindoyan, in his Lyric Opera debut, understands how Puccini goes. In his comments in the program, he states clearly that, “The word ‘freedom’ is relative, because it should be a sensation within a rigorous respect for the score”. If only opera administrators would hold stage directors to the same standard as the conductors. This production, shared with the Royal Opera House Covent Garden and Teatro Real Madrid, directed by Richard Jones, designed by Stewart Laing, with lighting design by Mimi Jordan Sherin, disappointed over and over again in so many ways, large and small.

It was a shame, since there was much to appreciate. The Lyric Opera Orchestra sounded marvelous under the idiomatic and nuanced baton of Maestro Hindoyan. His sensitive support of the singers brought out the treasures in the score, revealing the joie de vivre of the Bohemians, supplying tight crispness to the opening of Act Two, poignant desperation in Act Three, and ephemeral orchestral textures underlying Mimi’s last moments.

Zachary Nelson’s full and velvety baritone was unfailingly well projected. As the painter Marcello, he came very close to a sense of who the character was, but never expressed the depth of pain caused by his obsessive love of Musetta, or the tenderness of his friendship with Rodolfo. As the poet Rodolfo, tenor Michael Fabbiano’s brilliant and warm voice was expressive and a joy to hear. However, perhaps due to opening night jitters, or a lack of meaningful stage direction, his highest notes were tentative and the softer passages were weak. Maria Agresta looked the part of the fragile seamstress. Her piano singing in the Act One aria bloomed as beautifully as the flowers she described. Yet, later in the opera, her voice was less attractive, her vowels lost color and sounded flat, not in pitch, but as if she came from Italy via Wisconsin. The talented and charismatic Danielle de Niese tossed off the role of Musetta with aplomb, despite the directorial excesses imposed upon her. De Niese is a tremendously gifted comic actress; with a lesser artist, Musetta’s staging would have been a travesty. Ryan Center Artist Riccardo Jose Rivera possesses a fine lyric baritone voice, but seemed uncomfortable with the physicality of the role of Schaunard. He was allowed to wander aimlessly and flail about. The monkeying around at the end of Act Two with the on-stage band was absurd. Blame should fall on the director though, not on this promising singer. Bass Adrien Sâmpetrean’s lower range lacked the depth and color expected for Colline. His interpretation of the cynical philosopher also seemed somewhat shallow and ordinary. By hanging his beloved overcoat on a nail to sing his touching farewell aria, he separated himself from it, and the tenderness of the moment was lost. Well known for his finely crafted characterizations, Jake Gardner was the class act of the evening, in fine voice, finding humor, but never resorting to buffoonery in the dual roles of the landlord Benoit, and Musetta’s sugar-daddy, Alcindoro. However, he was not done any favors as Benoit by being staged facing directly up stage, forcing him to turn around to face the audience every time he had to sing. Similarly, as Alcindoro, Mr. Gardner was buried by Mr. Jones’ staging in a melee of waiters and patrons in the Café Momus, obscuring the ironic humor of the moment.

The costumes by Stewart Laing were quirkily adequate. His set was horrible. Act One did not resemble a quaint Parisian garret apartment, but rather a newly constructed barn in Dixon, Illinois. The lighting in Acts One, Two and Four, was stark and bleakly colorless, evocative of neither the time of year, time of day, nor the congenial poverty in which the four Bohemians lived, laughed, and loved. In the relentless intensity of the lighting, the singers’ faces were either washed out or hidden in shadows created by the barn rafters. In Act Two, the supertitles were nearly unreadable due to the glaring lighting. However, in Act Three, the lighting was so gloomy that it had the same obscuring effect on the singers. It didn’t matter much, though. There really wasn’t anything to see.

Good translations are a blessing, and the accurately natural supertitles by Kenneth Chalmers were truly excellent. However, these titles also served to highlight the director’s many mistakes, too numerous to detail in full. After Mimi’s fake looking faint, and even more fake looking recovery (she popped up like a jack-in-the-box), when she drops her key, Rodolfo says, “Buio pesto” (“it’s pitch dark”) in the glaring light. The lost key is picked up by Rodolfo who, instead of hiding it, shows it to Mimi and plays keep-away, although he later says, “Al buio non si trova” (“In the dark we won’t find it”). Huh? Standing in brilliant white light, he inexplicably tells her that soon there will be moonlight, and then they will have enough light to look for the key again. This touching scene in which Mimi and Rodolfo fall in love was diminished by this directorial sloppiness, but is unfailingly right when it is done the way Puccini intended.

The set changes in the pauses between acts with the curtain up were extremely awkward. If you are going to change the set before our eyes, it should provide a magical transition from one setting to another which enhances the pace of the drama. These bumbling and ponderous changes felt more like a first walk-through rehearsal in a warehouse where the sets were still under construction and the technical demands haven’t been entirely resolved.

The Act Two set, with a suddenly faithful representation of the beautiful covered passages in Paris, was attractive and could have worked, but it was so far down stage, it cramped everyone, soloists and chorus, into a nineteenth century mosh pit. The jolly chaos of Christmas Eve never settled down enough to be able to find the main characters among the crowd, and since there was no room for the children to cavort, they formed a formal chorus line. Consequently, their mother’s anger at their unruliness made no sense. Typical of directors who don’t trust the material or understand the music, the stage was filled with frenetic and meaningless carrying-on. Oh sure, that may be more true to life, but it was distracting. It might be forgiven, but when things needed to be real, they usually weren’t.

Segue in another awkward transition from the street scene to the interior of the Café Momus, full of distracting and upstaging patrons and waiters. When the audience can’t find the principal singers in this scene, something is rotten in Paris.

Enter Musetta. She sees her former lover Marcello at the adjoining table and, being bored with her current old and stuffy patron, decides to win Marcello back. This can be played a lot of ways, but sloppy drunk isn’t one of them. The famous waltz song is already sexy and provocative. Musetta definitely does not become sexier by making her drunk, and the goofy-happy-dance when singing “Felice mi fa” was like a scene from a sit-com. Throw in a few cheap tricks for laughs and shock value and the reunion of the two lovers, which normally is so warmly welcomed that the music is covered up for a page or so by applause, was a messy let-down.

The snow which fell almost all night long was pretty, but other than that, the Third Act was ugly. The tavern looked more like the guard house at the Barrièr d’Enfer, which must have been off stage, as it could not be seen. But the back of the garret/barn apartment was strangely visible, as were overhead lights which shined in the audience’s eyes, again making the production look as though it was still in rehearsal. Every touching moment in this act was sabotaged by the stage direction, such as when Mimi and Rodolfo agree they must break-up, but that they will wait for spring. Mimi sings, “Vorrei che eterno durasse il verno” (“I wish winter would last forever”) in a moment which is often more heart-rending than Mimi’s death in Act Four. Inexplicably, Mimi aimlessly walked away from Rodolfo while singing this. No matter, they were upstaged anyway by Musetta, pondering her next move after having been thrown out by Marcello.

Back in the barn - err - garret for the final act, it is supposed to be a bright sunny day outside, so the blazing light didn’t seem quite so out of place. Rodolfo and Marcello’s duet reminiscing about their lost loves was almost touching. The two sounded good together, and taking places at opposite sides of the barn underscored their feelings of loss and loneliness. For once, by not imposing his “concept”, Mr. Jones managed not to ruin a beautifully sung moment.

However, Mr. Jones couldn’t resist keeping his hands off that which followed. Puccini specifies a spoof of classical dancing and a mock sword fight among the four Bohemians. It is almost always hilariously funny, but if you have a better idea than the always entertaining dancing and mock sword fight, bring it on! Doodling undecipherable graffiti on the walls was not one. Similarly, swinging around on the stove pipe of a wood burning stove is never a good idea. If you’ve ever seen one, you’d know that the pipe would be likely to fall into pieces, you would be covered in soot and it might even be dangerously hot, especially if it had just contained a fire, as in Act I. Propping a pillow against the sharp corner of the stove to serve as Mimi’s deathbed in Act IV was the limit. Maybe the director was making some sort of statement. Who cares? Get a bed or a chaise up there so that Mimi and Rodolfo don’t have to flop and flail about on the floor like a couple of fish out of water. The scene was just plain ugly.

The heart of any opera is when the music tells the story more plainly than the words. This must never be ignored. At the moment when Rodolfo and Mimi are finally left alone together and the tender reprise of “O soave funciulla” swells to the sweet cadence, “Ah! tu sol comandi amor”, this director had the lovers on opposite sides of the stage and absolutely nothing was going on between them. Yes, most directors do it very traditionally, but that’s because it works, and Mimi and Rodolfo hold each other again, just as they did the night they first met.

Similarly, the exact moment when Mimi dies is clearly expressed in the music. Mr. Jones decided that this was completely unnecessary and then chose to ignore Puccini’s following directions. Schaunard was nowhere near Mimi to notice that she was dead, so how could he tell Marcello? Yet Rodolfo was seated on the stove right next to her head and didn’t notice. It is possible that there are people in the world that can’t handle the death of a friend, or of a friend’s lover, but when Rodolfo discovered that Mimi is dead, it is beyond imagination why Schaunard and Colline bolted out the room in terror.

There wasn’t a moist eye in the house.

Performances continue through October 20, 2018, and again January 10 through 25, 2019. Call the Lyric at 312.827.5600 or visit www.lyricopera.org for tickets, if you are curious about this strange production. But please don’t bring your friends who have never seen an opera before.

It’s been three days since seeing Jesus Christ Superstar at Lyric Opera’s Civic Center and I still find myself going from character to character in the kitchen, in the car, while I’m working, while doing chores around the house and, moments ago, in the elevator. I may not be able to hit the brassy baritone notes sang by Cavin Cornwall as Caiaphas (or any of the character’s notes for that matter) but I give it my best shot because it’s just one of those shows – the songs stick – as they should. After all, we are talking about what many consider Andrew Lloyd Weber’s greatest work and perhaps one of the most masterful musicals of our time. We are talking about a musical that does not have a single weak number.

Having seen several variations of Jesus Christ Superstar from it’s very early runs in the 1970’s with Ted Neeley, many as he aged (the last while in his mid-sixties), and with a handful with others in the role of Jesus, Lyric Opera’s stage adaptation stays true to form – and then some. Cast members donned in hoods spread out across the main floor of the theatre before running to the stage during the opening overture. The set and costumes take us to a somewhat post-apocalyptic era, and though unnecessary as the musical is ever so effective taking place in biblical times, we still get the point.

With clever and ever-so-fitting lyrics by Tim Rice and an unbeatable soundtrack by Lloyd Weber, Jesus Christ Superstar takes us through Jesus’ rise in popularity as the promised messiah for his people over his last days. At the same time the pharisees show alarm and fear as Jesus is as a threat to their teachings – a threat that must be destroyed. While taking us through the last supper and eventually the crucifixion, the musical closely examines the love/hate relationship between Jesus and Judas, and the inner conflicts had by the latter. We also get a look at Rice and Weber’s perception of Mary Magdalene’s bond with Jesus, as she takes on a motherly approach in “Everything’s Alright” and that of almost a confused lover in “I Don’t Know How to Love Him”.

Jo Lampert as Mary Magdalene soothes Jesus (Heath Saunders)

Over eighty artists take the stage to perform with the thirty-seven musicians strategically placed in plain view on the set. The talent in this production is nothing short of spectacular, the choreography original and fun, particularly in that of the pharisees in the number “This Jesus Must Die,” adding a unique element of menace. The standouts in this show are many. Ryan Shaw delivers big as Judas holding true to the role’s intention immediately impressing from his opening number “Heaven on Their Minds” while Jo Lampert as Mary Magdalene shows great vocal command as she goes from gentle and soothing to prevailing power.

Ted Neeley who portrayed Jesus in the 1973 film, touring the role prior and still doing so to this day, along with Deep Purple’s Ian Gillan who was the voice of Jesus on the original album recording, set a precedent that, if not met, can lead to disappointment by the production’s most loyal fans. Gillan and Neeley set the bar high. The two were so successful in adding a rock and roll element to Jesus - screams and all - so that many in the role to follow were doomed to fail. This is not the case in Lyric’s current production. Heath Saunders exemplifies what the Jesus Christ Superstar loyal want to see in the role of Jesus. Diehards of the production call for a rock and roll Jesus and Saunders gives them just that. While stunning the crowd with his wide vocal range and hitting the highs where we’ve come to expect the highs, Saunders also gives us a Jesus who is sensitive, caring and embodies that of a teacher.

After tearing it up as Judas in Paramount’s 2017 production of Jesus Christ Superstar and taking on an ensemble role in the recent NBC televised special, Mikal Kilgore returns to the classic musical, this time as Simon Zealotes. Kilgore again puts forth an untouched performance, only leaving the audience with the regret his lead numbers are limited. Michael Cunio as Pilate Shaun Fleming as Herod are equally impressive as they pass the buck on who will be responsible for Jesus punishment that is called for by the people. Rounding out the sensational cast are Joseph Anthony Byrd as Annas and Cavin Cornwall as Caiaphas whose performances as the sinister pharisees are also on point.

Shaun Fleming as Herod

Jesus Christ Superstar is one of the great modern-day musicals and Lyric Opera of Chicago is one of Chicago’s premiere venues. Their pairing makes a lot of sense. Lyric spares no expenses presenting an all-around magnificent cast, a collection of Chicago’s finest musicians, superb direction and choreography and a set and lighting design that includes a 37-foot cross illuminated with 101 lights and seven full-sized trees that stand in the background overlooking all the action.

Categorically recommended.

Jesus Christ Superstar is being performed at Lyric Opera of Chicago through May 20th. For tickets and/or more show information, visit www.lyricopera.org.

"Faust" is revered as the world's most popular opera. It was the first opera performed at the Met in New York in 1863. This iconic French opera took Charles Gounod several years and several drafts to complete. Since its debut in Paris in 1859, "Faust" has continued to seduce audiences. Lyric Opera continues the tradition with a thrilling new production by Kevin Newberry.

From the poem by Goethe, "Faust" tells the story of an old man who wakes one morning with nothing left to live for. His youth is gone and the pleasures of life no longer interest him. Faust tries suicide but is rescued by Mephistopheles (the devil), who offers him eternal youth in exchange for his soul. Mephistopheles is sung by Christian Van Horn. He's got the youthful energy and allure of the devil as he pounces about in a very orange suit.

Faust is promised a beautiful maiden, Marguerite (Ailyn Perez). She's crippled and her brother Valentin worries for her as he heads off to a vague battle (there is almost always a distant war in an opera). Faust instantly falls in love with Margueite who is exquisitely sung by Ailyn Perez, she is making her full Lyric debut in this production. French singer Benjamin Bernheim eloquently sings the title character. He brings a necessary sex appeal to the young Faust role. After the relationship is consumated, Faust splits. Drama ensues.

Gounod's brilliant music soars in this highly stylized production. David Adam Moore's unsettling projections throughout have an eerie Tim Burton quality to them. The convention really works here. Along with Gounod's cinematic score, there's an added sensory detail that never fails to captivate.

"Faust" is above all things, an incredibly accessible opera. The contract between mortal and devil is always intriguing. Gounod's music is as relevant as today as it was in the 1860s. You can hear traces of it in film scores and musical theater orchestras. There's a little something here for everyone, it's a cheeky horror story, a love story, a story of redemption, a musical and a little je ne said quoi.

Staging like this brings "Faust" into the twenty-first century, which is essential to the survival of opera in the modern era. Never a dull moment in the nearly four hour run time. Opera has a way of lulling even the most ardent enthusiast to sleep after a glass of chardonnay during the intermission. "Faust" is riveting in all five acts. Those familiar with the classic work will be impressed by the new lens with which Kevin Newberry shows it through.

Through March 19 at Lyric Opera Chicago. 20 N Upper Wacker Drive. 312-332-2244

“No woman ever died for love” says Despina in Mozart’s charming little opera ‘Cosi fan tutte’. There may not be any deaths from love but, maybe a few tickled funny bones in this revival going on now at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. Originally conceived by John Cox about ten years ago, this version of ‘Cosi fan tutte’ moves the setting to WWI, or 1914. This seasons’ production is largely the same with direction by Bruno Ravella.

‘Cosi fan tutte’ is a lighter work by opera standards. It’s basically a rom-com sung in Italian. Written in 1790, Mozart would only see this opera performed five times in his life, as he died the following year. Mozart operas are typically upbeat with plenty of repeated phrasing. There’s no shortage of beauty pouring out of the pit conducted by James Gaffigan. This is a very accessible piece in both music and performances.

The plot is fairly uncomplicated. Two men Ferrando (Andrew Stenson) and Guglielmo (Joshua Hopkins) question the fidelity of their fiances Fiordiligi (Ana Maria Martinez) and Dorabella (Marianne Crebassa). With the help of Don Alfonso (Alessandro Corbelli) and sexy maid Despina (Elena Tsallagova), the two men pretend to go off to war. They return to their future wives in disguise and each attempts to seduce the other’s fiancé. If it sounds familiar, it is. This opera is loosely inspired by Shakespeare’s ‘Twelfth Night’.

Few people attend an opera for the dramatic chops of the performers. Opera is about beautiful music first and foremost. That said, these two fantastic sopranos are also gifted comedic actresses. The over-the-top emotions of these two characters makes for some really great physical humor. The projected dialogue is almost as ridiculous as the plot itself. Martinez takes up the pious role, making her seduction all the more fun to watch. Crebassa is the goofball and her performance radiates joy even as she’s cheating on her fiance. Though, it’s really Tsallagova who runs away with the laughs in her performance as Despina. This is also her US debut. A talent we’ll hopefully see more of in coming seasons.

As always, the set and costumes are sumptuous. Setting this piece in 1914 gives costume and set designer Robert Perdziola a lot to work with. It’s not terribly often you seen somewhat modern fashion at the Lyric. There are some lovely flapper-flavored looks going on. Nothing quite compares to the second act opening though. A background of venetian boats adorned with twinkling lights opens up to reveal the imposter suitors sailing in to claim their respective victories. The visual against the lovely Mozart music is one of the most arresting moments of the evening.

‘Cosi fan tutte’ is not an opera you’ll find on any before-you-die lists, but it’s an opera worth seeing. While it’s not the shortest show of Lyric’s season, clocking in at just under four hours, it’s definitely the easiest to get into. The music is for everyone, and will leave you feeling warm and tingly.

Through March 16th at Lyric Opera of Chicago. 20 N Wacker Drive. 312-827-5600