Displaying items by tag: Lyric Opera of Chicago

Goodman’s treasured director Robert Falls directs the Lyric Opera’s new production of Don Giovanni, the tale of that lustful, destructive Spanish sexual predator, Don Juan. Falls has wisely exercised restraint in this production, letting the sumptuous music of Mozart prevail. The musical high points will be familiar to anyone who has seen the movie or listened to the soundtrack Amadeus.

The story is another matter – in contemporary #MeToo society Don Giovanni does not quite fit the Weinstein-Epstein model of using leverage and power in his conquest of women. The dramaturgs struggle to find some way to explain Don Giovanni’s behavior to us. But there is none; he is not exactly a realistic character, but an exaggerated fiction who lays waste not to the objects of his desire, but to his posse of servants and friends as well. But there is a contemporary realism to Don Giovanni's destructive force and his entitlement to forcing himself on women. He doesn't accept that no means no, and we are still trying to change that heritage of patriarchy in the 21st century. 

In his day, Don Juan was a libertine. He also seems to be a sociopath and sex addict, cataloging the hundreds of women he has seduced, country by country. Like Epstein he seems to inspire profligacy and among his cohorts, but he takes advantage of them a few too many time. He is stalked by one double-crossed lover - - who makes it her mission to warn other women away from him. All this builds up to generating an enmity that finds an angry crowd of vigilante’s out to kill him.

Mozart’s formal full title of Don Giovanni is “The Rake punished, or Don Giovanni.” This indicates the story was conceived as a moral fable (the libretto in Italian is by Lorenzo da Ponte). Fall’s key touch, aside from a perfect closing scene (more on that later) was to reset the time frame from the 1600’s to the 1920s. This allows the women to reasonably be a bit more empowered, pursuing their own sexual destiny. But the original libretto clashes with this revisionist approach, since loss of reputation and fall from respectability is among their chief complaints against Don Giovanni. The 1920s setting is almost laughable during a ball in which the deco-inspired gowns (knockout costumes here and overall) when the flappers do minuettes rather than Charlestons. But it's opera. 

The music redeems it largely, though the garden bacchanal and Don Giovanni’s machinations are frankly, boring and drag on. Mozart’s music carries on a masterful counterpoint, with the characters given complexity expressed through this most lush score. The Lyric Opera Orchestra is reliably excellent, and this production is no exception. They just know how to play in support of the opera– a full, rich, underpinning for the great singers. 

Finally comes the climactic scene in Don Giovanni is his retribution for all this bad behavior – he is dragged down to hell. Falls did this so powerfully, opening a smoking pit on the stage and upending the banquet table, with Don Giovanni struggling against his fate as he slides into oblivion. It is one of the most satisfying final scenes I have witnessed, and helps cap the story of Don Giovanni, The Rake Punished. It runs at the Lyric Opera in Chicago through December 8.

*Ryan McKinney will portray Don Giovannio December 3rd through 8th

What separates a musical from an opera? Technically an opera is a story in which all the dialogue is exchanged through song. Hence the term rock opera, which describes modern musicals that have little to no spoken dialogue. Such semantics may seem trivial, but as the world moves forward traditional opera must too in order to thrive.

“Dead Man Walking” is by no means a new work, as it had its world premiere at the San Francisco Opera in 1999. It’s composed by Jake Heggie with a book by Tony Award winning playwright Terrence McNally. It is an adaptation of the 1995 film for which Susan Sarandon won an Academy Award for Best Actress. Based on the true story of Sister Helen Prejean’s special relationship with two death row inmates in Louisiana, “Dead Man Walking” is an excellent example of what the future of opera theatre might look like.

“Dead Man Walking” holds its Chicago premiere at the Lyric under the direction of Leonard Foglia. What is immediately striking is a scene of graphic sexual violence right off the bat. A stark departure from the usual 19th Century fantasies normally produced on the Lyric stage. Though the English subtitles are much appreciated, they’re somewhat unnecessary as this opera is sung in English.

Heggie’s music shares a lot in common with traditional musical theatre. The consistent through-line melody “He Will Gather Us Around” will have you humming into intermission and wiping your eyes by the finale. While Heggie’s compositions are quite good, and very cinematic in their aesthetic, it is the deeply humane storyline of condemned prisoner Joseph De Rocher that will hold your attention. McNally does what he does best, sharp dialogue and tight narrative structure.

It’s not often to hear sniffles during the climax of a traditional opera. No matter how arresting the score, or brilliant the performances, classical opera can sometimes create an emotional disconnect. In this work, we see modern day reality and that feels more relatable than say, Wagner. That’s not to say it’s missing the spectacle. As the case with any Lyric production, the staging is epic and visually stunning.

Though most of the cast is making their Lyric debut, they leave a big impression. Joe De Rocher is sung by Ryan McKinny. A booming voice fitting of an unrepentant killer and he’s able to sing opera in a southern accent. Patricia Racette portrays Sister Helen Prejean. It’s her journey we are on. She knows as well as the audience that De Rocher is guilty, but like her, we hold the slimmest hope that maybe he’s innocent. Her unwavering love for De Rocher is his redemption. It’s her power as an actress and a singer to evoke the spirit of forgiveness. Even as McNally’s dialogue is stretched into soaring arias, there’s an authenticity in Racette’s performance.

“Dead Man Walking” achieves what good opera should, and that is to move its audience through the power of music. Theatre, regardless of the type should comment on the world in which we live. While the classics are so for a reason, they’re becoming less of a draw for younger audiences. “Dead Man Walking” proves that opera isn’t a dying art form. It’s an invitation for audiences to have post-show discussions about real world issues.

Through November 22nd at Lyric Opera Chicago. 20 N Wacker Drive. 312-827-5600

I have to admit up front - I am a full-on West Side Story fan girl. I have seen the movie, released in 1961, probably 100 times. I know the plot, the words to every song, the dance moves, and have viscerally felt the teenage angst that is the underlying basis of the plot...for well over 50 years. I credit Leonard Bernstein, Stephen Sondheim and the original writer, Arthur Laurents with kickstarting my love of all things Shakespeare (West Side Story is an updated take on Romeo and Juliet.) I kneel and utter multiple huzzahs to the brilliant Choreographer, Jerome Robbins who, for crying out loud - came up with moves so outrageous and fluid that every dance inspired child of the early 1960’s spent hours learning how to snap their fingers below their knees as they moved stealthily forward while trying to control their rage.

Yes, I am a fan. And as some would say an obsessively, vested fan...I can honestly state that The Lyric Opera of Chicago’s production of West Side Story is spot on. It will not let you down. While it is comforting in its homage to the original Broadway play and subsequent movie, it adds some little idiosyncrasies of its own that makes you nod and realize that yep, this stuff is still going on-500 plus years after Shakespeare conceived of star-crossed lovers and the intolerance of bigotry.
Now, down to the meat of this production.

Mikaela Bennett as Maria, displays the full range of emotions of a young, protected yet curious girl, new to the reality and struggle of leaving her home and trying to break free to embrace her pending adulthood and new life. Ms. Bennett’s vocal range is mesmerizing. She has a clarity to her notes you rarely hear outside of traditional opera. She also personifies the innocence and joie de vivre of a girl stepping forward to become a woman. She is a lovely actress, and her Maria goes deep to the heart.Corey Cott, as Tony steps up into the role that Richard Beymer stamped into our consciousness. He steps up, and over. Realistically, the role written as Tony is kind of light, dialog-wise. But Mr. Cott’s voice is so deceptively amazing, it leaves one almost breathless. The man has mastered the “Devil’s Triangle” of notes. Kudos, Sir. You made us cry.

Amanda Castro as Anita is edgy, punky and truly inhabits a proud Borinquena taking control of her life and love. She has the fricative vocal ability to really emphasize her strength and make you feel that whatever comes out of her mouth should be stamped with an exclamation point!
Manuel Stark Santos as Bernardo, though he doesn’t really have any musical solos-is a presence on stage in and of himself. His big brother slash gang leader is dominating and realistically embodies the macho-ness of Hispanic culture. This is no George Chakiris in brown face...this is an actor who shows us on stage what cultural machismo entails.

Brett Thiele as Riff is more talented, vocally pleasing and better looking than the movie version. He shows us a few more layers into a character that has been generally portrayed as depth-light.

The remainder of the cast is talented and on point in their portrayal as followers to the main characters. All are in of themselves wonderful singers and dancers, and they do this production proud.

The production and stage crew were fluid, efficient and cohesive. I really enjoyed how symbiotic the set changes were. It’s probably one of the more demanding jobs and they did it faultlessly.

Lastly...the orchestra conducted by James Lowe was, as to be expected - stellar. Ladies and gentlemen, you took my breath away.

All in all. I highly recommend The Lyric’s production of West Side Story. For a tragic story, it left me full of joy.

Through June 2nd at Lyric Opera of Chicago.

Guiseppe Verdi’s beloved, romantic heartbreaker, La Traviata was beautifully sung Saturday evening at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. The second offering this season by the great Italian composer, it is the last opera from the famed blockbuster trio of Verdi’s middle period which include Rigoletto, Il Trovatore. Unfortunately, it did not live up to the standard of Il Trovatore presented earlier this season.

The production, which debuted here in the 2013/14 Season is (with the exception of Act Two, Scene 1) just plain ugly. Why such a dismal production would be re-mounted is a mystery. If management wonders why ticket sales are down, maybe they should take a look at their stage sets. Designed by Riccardo Hernandez, the heroine of the opera, Violetta Valery, lives in a giant concrete cylinder with no windows, stark lighting, and nary a picture nor sconce on the wall. Is this to suggest the bleakness of her inner life? If so, the design team completely misses the point. Verdi’s music represents Violetta’s inner bleakness superbly, stringently contrasting it with the artificial opulence of her material world. A bleak set completely avoids that tragic juxtaposition. We understand that budgets are tight, but certainly an international opera house of the stature of the Lyric can afford more than a few pieces of stage furniture. The huge stark edifice and ghostly shadows that worked so well in the darker Il Trovatore a few months ago, seemed totally incongruous in Violetta Valery’s Paris, the City of Light.

Violetta, and the real life woman the character is based on, Marie Duplessis, would have lived in a lavish apartment with every fashionable and expensive furnishing and accessory. The high end courtesans of the 19th century were the era’s style setters, envied and emulated, even while the morality of their profession was held in scorn by ‘Polite Society’. As our society has changed over the last 175 years, there is no exact parallel today to the divas of the demi-monde, but the program notes that suggest Princess Diana are partly right. Where she went, what she wore and who she was with utterly captivated the attention of the public. But imagine, if you can, a combination of the elegant Princess with the looser lifestyle of a Kardashian, perhaps, and you might get a little closer to the famous and fascinating women that reigned in the demi-monde, the “half-world”, of the Courtesans of the past.

“La traviata”, meaning the one who has strayed, does find redemption – not unlike Cheryl Strayed, of the book and movie, Wild, although it is love and not wilderness that brings about the moral transfiguration. In the libretto by Francesco Maria Piave, based on the play from the novel “La Dame aux Camélias” by Alexander Dumas the Younger (son of the famous author of “The Three Musketeers”), we meet the Courtesan at the height of her fame, but near the end of her short life; at 23 she is already quite ill with consumption.

The curtain rises during the soft ethereal prelude to reveal a lacy scrim behind which we see Violetta attended by her maid Amina, preparing for the party which opens the action. It was refreshing to be spared the once meaningful but now over-done prelude as the epilogue with the entire action of the opera as a flashback. This should have provided an opportunity for us to see the frail and exhausted Violetta put on her party face, rally her strength and take the room as the dazzling courtesan plying the talents that led to her meteoric rise to the top of her profession. Unfortunately, this insightful moment did not play out as intended. It felt more like a peeping-tom watching somebody’s maiden aunt getting ready to go to church.

Albina Shagimuratova returned to the Lyric this year as the title character, following recent appearances here as Elvira in “I Puritani” by Bellini last year and Lucia in “Lucia di Lammermoor” by Donizetti the year before. Ms. Shagimuratova was in fine voice, and sang the challenging role magnificently from start to finish, deftly handling the brilliant coloratura, spinning out delicate, silken “fil de voce” or threads of voice, and with clarity and fullness sufficient for the passages requiring a bigger, more dramatic sound. Yet she could not even pretend to have the grace, vivacity, charisma, or sexual magnetism that Violetta must display. In the first scene her acting was the sort of acting that gives opera singers a bad name, plodding around aimlessly, looking matronly, with a few phony gestures here and there. Somehow, during the expansive “Sempre Libera”, in a moment when she must soar as she discards the notion of true love for her life of freedom, luxury and pleasure, Ms. Shagimuratova was, from where we were seated, hidden behind a table bearing a conical mound of fruit. In Act Two however, with its inherent expression of true, romantic, and intimate love, she seemed more comfortable and able to access the emotions of the character; her desperate, passionate singing carried the meaning far more effectively, especially in the crucial duet with the father of her new, true love, Alfredo. Moments of genuine poignancy returned in the intimate final act as she sadly faces death alone, only to be elated by the return of her loved ones arriving just in time to watch her die. If Ms. Shagimuratova is not willing to embrace playing a whore, perhaps she should limit her repertoire to “good girl” roles.

Giorgio Berrugi, in his first performance here, made a fine Alfredo. He brought a clear lyric, tenor voice and Italianate singing to the roll with youthful ardor. His infatuation with Violetta, anger at her perceived betrayal, remorse for his behavior, love and understanding as they were reunited were all believable, despite any semblance of a spark of sexual energy from the soprano.

“Best in Show” turned out to be Željko Luĉić as Giorgio Germont, Alfredo’s father, who arrives to the Act Two “love nest” in the country that Violetta and Alfredo are sharing. He is sternly determined to break up the affair that is causing scandal back home in Provence, and threatening the chances of a good marriage for Alfredo’s “pure-as-an-angel” sister. The outstanding Verdi baritone, familiar to audiences here and at all major opera houses throughout the world, was exceptional. He used his riveting presence not in an intimidating way, but as a strong and loving head of the family doing what he believes to be best for all. But Papa Germont is not unyielding, he recognizes something special about Violetta, and presses his case with compassion and respect, with both vocal tenderness and power. When Alfredo discovers he has been abandoned, his father tries, unsuccessfully, to console him by invoking memories of home and family in the beautiful aria “Di Provenza, il mar, il suol” - “The sun and sea of Provence”, sung superbly by Mr. Luĉić. This is what makes opera singing so difficult and so amazing when it all comes together; the singer requires an extraordinary instrument, excellent technique, abundant acting talent, well-honed stage craft, and the inexplicable ability to use all these things together to communicate on a deep level. Good singers have most of these things. The great singers, like Mr. Luĉić, have it all. The ovation received by Ms. Shagimuratova revealed that the audience is willing to accept two or three out of five, but Mr. Luĉić’s performance was, by far, the most satisfying.

The stage direction by Arin Arbus seemed amateurish for one with such fine credentials from the spoken theater. It was yet another example of how stage directors from the spoken theater do not possess the knowledge or training to be adequate opera directors. The chorus scenes were a disorganized melee, the least problematic of which was the masquerade at the party in Act Two, Scene 2, hosted by Violetta’s friend Flora. Dealing with an opera chorus requires a skilled opera director who understands the music, singing, and who is experienced coordinating large crowds in small spaces, and within the constraints of an exactly limited amount of time as dictated by the music; there is rarely anything quite like it in the spoken theater. Even in intimate scenes Ms. Arbus demonstrated little understanding of basic opera stage craft, allowing singers to upstage or block one another in ways which did not permit them to “cheat” out to be heard in a large hall such as the Ardis Krainik Theater. Ms. Arbus showed talent with one or two nice touches, but overall, the principals could have staged it as well themselves from their previous experience. The prelude to Act Three was staged behind the scrim as well, but what is the point of changing the sheets as Violetta lies dying in her sick-bed? Again, anything which that bit of business could have conveyed is far more thoroughly expressed in Verdi’s music. This seems to be the hallmark of theater directors in the opera house: Stage business for the sake of stage business. We’ve seen worse, but when will this trend end? At least Ms. Arbus didn’t mess with the good supertitles by Francis Rizzo.

The always excellent Lyric Opera Orchestra played beautifully, conducted with skill and extraordinary sensitivity to the singers by Michael Christie in his Lyric debut. Many conductors take tempi that fit their preconceived notion of how a piece should “go”, expecting singers to adjust to those tempi. Mr. Christie is a singer’s conductor who actually listens to his singers, adjusting his tempi to best suit the unique idiosyncrasies of a particular voice, allowing their best qualities to blossom. He is an encouraging addition to the Lyric Opera’s roster.

The comprimario roles were all ably performed, mostly by members of the Ryan Opera Center and by Zoie Reams, a former member of the Houston Grand Opera Studio. Ms. Reams is attractive and has a yummy mezzo voice. She made the most of her two scenes as Violetta’s friend, Flora. We hope to see and hear more of her in future seasons. As Amina, the formidable Lauren Decker brought a touching authenticity to the role of the maid – not as easy as one might think. And what a voice! Ms. Decker should enjoy a respectable career.

Mario Rojas was amiable as Alfredo’s buddy Gastone, with a promising voice. Ricardo Josè Rivera looked young, in spite of grayed hair, but pulled off the arrogant demeanor of Violetta’s older patron, Baron Duphol. His good baritone voice displayed appropriate weight too, in spite of his youth, as did bass-baritone David Weigel as Doctor Grenvil. The Marquis was nicely sung by Christopher Kenny. Eric Ferring, Vince Wallace and Matthew Carroll also acquitted themselves well in their respective parts as Guiseppe, the Messenger and the Servant.

In the Act One party scene in Violetta’s house, the lighting, designed by Marcus Doshi, was as grey as Chicago in February. Um… do we need to point out that a lot of us go to the opera in the winter to escape the dark and the drear? Unless called for dramatically, why subject us to more of the same? The ambience was somewhat relieved by cool golden tones for the country house in Act Two Scene 1, and Flora’s party in Scene 2 was colorful with Chinese lanterns and deep, deep red tones relieved by spot lights on the singers in the concerted finale. Sadly, Act Three returned to the dark and drear, but since Violetta was now on her deathbed and presumably the creditors had taken away her belongings, it made some sense, but there was no contrast to the luxuriousness that should have been there before.

Giant puppets and cross-dressing dancers appeared in the Act Two, Scene 2 party scene at Flora’s, designed by Cait O’Connor and choreographed by Austin McCormick. Fortunately, the rather creepy and garish milieu didn’t detract from the key kick-in-the-gut moment when Alfredo’s fury at being dumped gets the better of him as he ruthlessly insults and humiliates Violetta in front of everyone.

This moving love story, the theatrical genius of Verdi, the beautiful score expertly played and the consistently first-rate singing throughout make this production worth seeing, in spite of its flaws. There are nine more performances through March 22. Verdi’s music will inspire you. If you have never seen “La Traviata”, go. If you have seen it, go again. Log onto www.lyricopera.org for tickets or call 312 827-5600.

Elektra must have been a Scorpio. Strauss’ intense one-act opera ‘Elektra’ is a classic tale of revenge set to some of the most thrilling music ever composed. Originally directed by Sir David McVicar at the Lyric in 2012, Remy Bummpo artistic director Nick Sandys helms the revival this season.

Clocking in at a mere one hour and forty minutes, this brief but highly concentrated opera is as exciting as it is macabre. Violence in opera is more often conveyed through music than staging, but in this production brutality flows through the set and costumes. At once the one-set stage is overpoweringly effective in creating a dark, atmospheric experience. John Macfarlane presents a strikingly unique aesthetic that heightens Strauss’ sense of horror.

Richard Strauss collaborated on ‘Elektra’ with librettist Hugo von Hofmannsthal. It held its world premiere in 1909 and has continued to be crowd pleaser ever since. Strauss helped bring the psychological elements dominating literature to the opera stage. In that regard, ‘Elektra’ is a very modern opera. His composition style also suggests the foundations of modern film scores. The music of ‘Elektra’ quickly moves from soaring to dark in the space of a breath.

This is an opera that requires a strong voice and a talented actress. Luckily, this production has two. Nina Stemme makes her Lyric debut in the title role. Eliza Van Den Heever returns to the Lyric to play Chrysothemis, Elektra’s sympathetic sister. While Elektra is the lead and Stemme does an amazing job, Heever makes Chrysothemis just as integral. Together with Michaela Marten as the wicked Klytamnestra, they create a trifecta of female power. With the exception of Orest (Iain Paterson) there aren’t many male voices in this opera. That’s entirely okay as these three women dominate the stage in a most satisfying way.

‘Elektra’ is an essential opera in the same vein as ‘Faust’. For those with only a tepid interest in opera, this 100-minute production is entirely accessible. There’s a cinematic quality to the music and the staging that leaves nary an empty moment. If that isn’t enough, just wait until the stage literally gushes blood.

Through February 22 at Lyric Opera of Chicago. 20 N Wacker Drive. 312-827-5600

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