A Day at the Opera with Earl Schub

L.A. Opera’s “Otello” - - - The Lion Doesn’t Roar

In the program notes to the new L.A. Opera production of Giuseppe Verdi’s “Otello,” the company’s Music Director, James Conlon, who also presided on the podium at the March 2nd matinee performance I attended, wrote: “Despite all the possible dramatic misadventures or vocal inadequacies, this work cannot fail because it is so perfectly conceived, so masterfully executed that not a single note is superfluous or less than inspired.” Not so, Maestro. True it is that Verdi and his brilliant librettist, Arrigo Boito crafted an operatic masterpiece that, in many respects, even surpasses the Shakespeare tragedy on which it is based but “dramatic misadventures and vocal inadequacies” can indeed give us an “Otello” in which the “Lion of Venice” does not roar. Alas, such is the case in the current production on display at the Music Center.

At its best, opera is the greatest of the performing arts precisely because it brings together all the elements which define Music Theater and, when the combination is right, provide us with enriching and ennobling experiences. Music (orchestral and vocal), drama, stage direction, scenic, costume and lighting design, dance (where applicable) - all of these must be taken into account and evaluated when assessing any given performance. There are few, if any, operas which can survive on the score alone, no matter how inspired – not even Verdi’s inspired rendering of Shakespeare tragic Moor. And so, with all due respect and admiration for Maestro Conlon, let’s proceed to the “Otello” in question.

First, the set design. Johan Engels presents us with three large boxes from which all the characters emerge and depart or, in some cases, lurk. The other physical elements are minimal at best or simply not there. There was nothing to indicate that we were at dockside in Act I except some poles (to indicate the masts of ships), a few ropes and one of the boxes placed stage center to simulate the deck of Othello’s ship. The interior settings of Acts II and III for what should be the title character’s palace were bland and totally devoid of grandeur. Finally, the Act IV bedroom in which the innocent Desdemona is murdered by her unhinged husband is totally decorated in red - walls, bed and all. This is obviously a reminder to the audience that a fatal crime is to be committed. Hardly subtle. As to Engels’ costume design, it is drab as well except for the luckless lady. As long as Othello is not convinced of her adultery, she is clad in virginal white; when he succumbs to the villainous Iago’s intrigues, she appears in vivid red, the time-honored color associated with an adulteress. Please – give us a break!

All of the aforementioned must be laid at the doorstep of the director, John Cox. Perhaps, after nearly 50 years of dealing with hundreds of productions, he has simply grown weary of coming up with yet another new, fresh and stimulating concept. If the director has the final say on what sets and costumes are to be used in order to carry out his take on the story then surely he must take on the final responsibility for this dull presentation. Insofar as the specifics of the drama are concerned, the only attempts at something novel were two mystifying misfires. At the very end of this tragic and compelling story of love gone awry, Shakespeare has Iago give no reason for his treachery before he is led away by an armed guard for certain torture and execution. Verdi and his librettist, Arrigo Boito, chose to have Iago attempt to escape but to be pursued for certain capture. Mr. Cox, who for all we know, has bigger and better things in mind for this consummate villain, lets him slink away unnoticed through an entranceway into one of those boxes. Finally, when it is time for the hapless Moor to pull a concealed dagger from his robes and fatally stab himself and then bid his Desdemona farewell with a heartbreaking request for one last kiss from her lifeless body, Mr. Cox’s Othello slashes his throat and, with no visible blood showing nor any apparent impairment to his larynx, begs for the impossible boon. Why oh why do directors and their designers either consistently underrate an audience or insist on spoon feeding them the obvious?

And now, the music. As always (and for this we Los Angeles opera goers should take great and justifiable pride), the orchestra and chorus were wonderful. James Conlon and Grant Gershon have taken two ensembles whose work was already becoming first rate under their predecessors and, in record time, brought them to a standard of excellence where no work exceeds their capabilities. Bravo to all. Most regrettably, the same cannot be said for two of the three principal singers. English tenor Ian Storey was simply in over his head in a role that demands the strength of a heldentenor and the warmth and passion of a singer trained in or, at least, familiar with the Italian bel canto tradition. The sad truth, I suppose, is that without Placido Domingo or Jon Vickers in the title role we simply cannot be moved as Verdi intended. Mr. Storey hit all the notes, to be sure, and tried his very best to wow us with some admittedly impressive dynamics but his ample tenor was forced and pinched from his opening triumphant “Esultate” which most surely did not shake the rafters, to the anger-ridden “Si, pel ciel” duet with Iago which closes Act II, to the intensely introspective “Dio! Mi potevi scagliar” in which he rejects Desdemona’s protestation of innocence and, finally, to the heart rending “Nium me tema” which climaxes in his dying plea for that last kiss. That said, it is equally obvious that Mr. Storey will deservedly have great success in the German repertory as his recent La Scala “Tristan” attests. Cilean soprano Cristina Gallardo-Domas was a disappointing and, for much of the performance, a dramatically underwhelming Desdemona. Whether it was the size of the house, the acoustics, the lingering effects of a throat problem which prevented her from performing on opening night or just her instrument, the voice was simply not lush enough was often shrill for the first three acts. Happily, however, she seemed to come into her own in the final act and gave us a compelling “Willow Song” and “Ave Maria.” Ms. Gallardo-Domas has most impressive credentials and should surely be invited to return perhaps in a lighter role. The one consistently bright spot was the Iago of baritone Mark Delevan. In this age of all too few “Verdi” baritones, a bright future awaits him. Possessed of a ringing, dark tone which has plenty of ping at the top and ample breadth of range, Mr. Delevan gave us an Iago we loved to hate. Sly and insinuating, oozing feigned consolation and understanding and pretending to be the friend of all the characters he actually loathed, he gave us a fully satisfying and convincing performance. The supporting cast was uniformly good with special kudos to the stentorian Lodovico of veteran bass Eric Halverson.

Perhaps, as Maestro Conlon infers, any “Otello” is better than no “Otello” but Los Angeles deserves better and hopefully we’ll get it next time.

A Day at the Opera with Earl Schub

LA Opera’s “Tristan und Isolde” . . . a Test and a Treat

Richard Wagner’s “Tristan und Isolde” is a test for any opera company and, not the least, because of its nearly 5 hour’s length, a test for an audience. When it’s done right, it is a treat for both. Such was the case at the February 3rd matinee performance produced by the Los Angeles Opera at the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion.

We are drawn into the drama by the absolutely stunning set design by David Hockney. This internationally acclaimed artist has transformed what is normally a series of gloomy settings to match the dark, death-obsessed relationship between the two title characters into a series of brilliant yet lush vistas which dramatically convey a mutually felt passion, both expressed and implied in Wagner’s overwhelming melodies and sonorities. Though Tristan and his Isolde are doomed from the start, the settings serve to remind us that they truly believe that love will transcend their conflicted lives and bring eternal bliss. The orchestra, under the sensitive and insightful direction of James Conlon was more than up to the challenges of this landmark opera which emancipated dissonance and threw wide the gates of chromaticism. From the opening Prelude to Isolde’s heart-rending “Mild und leise.” which ends the opera, the Los Angeles Opera orchestra again demonstrated why it has come of age. However, while Wagner, perhaps more than any other composer before or since, firmly believed in the equality of all the forces needed to perform an opera, it is the singers, especially the two protagonists, who face the biggest challenge in this, his most complex, work. Isolde, promised to Marke, the elderly king of Cornwall and brought to this loveless marriage by Tristan, a knight who shares with her their secret love, sings almost non-stop for all three acts. Soprano Linda Watson, a Wagner specialist, brought warmth and passion to the role and conveyed both the strength and vulnerability of this conflicted character who finds herself hopelessly in love with the man who had slain her former fiancé in combat and is now bringing her to his king. Veteran heldentenor John Treleaven was a Tristan who made up with sincerity and ardor what he may have lacked in sheer vocal power. He was utterly convincing as a man of honor who finally betrays his allegiance to Marke and yields to an overwhelming passion for his beloved Isolde, an inescapable desire catalyzed by a magical “love potion” that both drink, ignorant of its potency. In supporting roles, mezzo Lioba Braun, as Isolde’s faithful companion, Brangane, Juha Uusitalo, a baritone of ringing tones, as Kurwenal, Tristan’s loyal friend, and bass Kristinn Sigmundsson, who sang the role of King Marke with vocal and dramatic elegance and authority, were more than adequate to their tasks.

Richard Wagner was so overcome with his need to compose this epic saga of love locked in mortal combat with duty and honor that he stopped work on what was destined to become his historic and monumental “Ring Cycle” and turned his creative powers on this legendary tale of the doomed love between a beautiful Irish princess and a heroic knight from Cornwall. Exiled from his native country for revolutionary writings in support of a unified Germany, he was to spend ten years living primarily in a villa in Switzerland supplied to him by Otto Weisendonk, a wealthy silk merchant and his young wife, Mathilde, who was to become Wagner’s inspiration (and, undoubtedly, something more.. Never one to either stand on ceremony or be grateful for favors done by others, he dedicated five romantic songs to her and, when he became immersed in reading the medieval tale of the two doomed lovers, in the throes of a passion himself for his admiring hostess, he put down his completed dramatic poem, “Siegfried’s Death” (which was to become the penultimate opera in the four opera “Der Ring des Niebelungen”) and set to work on “Tristan und Isolde.” In the spring of 1857, he read his new creation to an informal audience of four gathered in the Weisondonk Swiss manor house: His, by now, long suffering wife, Minna; the worshipful, Mathilde; Hans von Bulow, a noted conductor and pianist and his wife, Cosima. An intriguing group to be sure since Cosima, the illegitimate daughter of Franz Liszt, was shortly to become Wagner’s mistress, the mother of his three children and, ultimately in 1870, his wife following Minna’s death.

With the successes of “Der fliegende Hollander”, “Tannhauser” and “Lohengin” behind him and his reputation as Germany’s leading opera composer, he made a triumphal return to a unified nation and basked in the glow of the glittering success of “Tristan und Isolde” on June 10, 1865 in Munich. From its premiere to this day it, along with Beethoven’s 9th Symphony, are considered to be the two most significant musical compositions of the 19th century. Whether he knew it or not, Wagner changed the nature of Western music.

“Tristan und Isolde” is not everyone’s cup of tea. But for those intrepid opera goers who can deal with its length and willingly succumb to music that is overwhelming in its beauty, it is as heady as potion as that imbibed by the timeless lovers.