Taiwan Philharmonic Orchestra, Shao-Chia Lü conducting, Gerlich Theater at Meany Hall, Nov. 3, 2018
By Melinda Bargreen
Meany Hall in Seattle has hosted a wonderful array of music, theater, and dance presentations, most of them chamber-sized or featuring soloists (like Yo-Yo Ma, Murray Perahia, and other stars of past presentations). Not since the smaller-scale “Miedel at Meany” Seattle Symphony series in the 1970s have I heard a symphony concert in the hall, and these presentations featured a trimmed-down version of the Seattle Symphony in a play-and-talk format.
The Nov. 3 concert by the Taiwan Philharmonic Orchestra brought a full-sized symphony to the stage in a concert that was remarkable for considerably more than sheer volume -- although volume was certainly one of the first things concertgoers noticed. Overwhelming in amplitude and highly impressive in musicality, this was a concert that established the strong artistic personality of the orchestra and its conductor, Shao-Chia Lü, in a program of Brahms, Liszt, and Gordon Chin.
The orchestra boasts a particularly resplendent cello section (on display in the Brahms), and notably fine winds (most prominently the oboe and flute principals), and the strings responded with an eagerness that was clear in every phrase. A few small flaws in attack and entrances were quickly swept aside in the energy and the artistry of the performance. This is an orchestra with tremendous depth and individual virtuosity.
Choosing the high-energy Gordon Chin work as the opener immediately established the power and the almost glittery surfaces Lü can muster, in pursuit of Chin’s “wild ride” of a piece. In the very lively sonic environment at Meany, the audience was practically rocked back in its seats by the music. (This work is part of a set of “Three Aboriginal Songs”; it would be interesting to hear the other two movements.)
The pianist Stephen Hough was the soloist for the tour, and his performance in the mighty Liszt Piano Concerto No. 1 made listeners wish for a full-scale recital from him on the President’s Piano Series at Meany Theater. In the Liszt concerto he displayed all the “right stuff” for Liszt: the thunder-power and virtuosity a pianist needs to tackle this long and highly varied piece, plus a sense of engagement and “sweep” that seemed to grow with every new episode in this one-movement piece.
The concerto was followed by a most surprising solo encore ... the dulcet "A Sleepy Lagoon” (composed by Eric Coates, later reworked as a popular song and a standby of Harry James). Nothing otherwise sleepy about this performance!
Lü and the orchestra were most persuasive in the Brahms Symphony No. 2 that closed the program: rich sonorities, supple strings, powerful horns, and virtuoso wind solos. Here the interpretive depth of Lü, who obviously loves this score, was remarkable, and so was the responsiveness of the orchestra. The violin section was enhanced by two rare instruments on loan for this tour from the Chi Mei Foundation (a Taiwanese violin connection with more than 1,750 of the world’s most valuable violins). There is a Seattle connection here, as well: The collection was established by Wen-Long Shi, the founder of the Chi Mei Corporation and the uncle of Cathy Hughes -- a Meany Advisory Board member.
Seattle Opera presents “The Turn of the Screw,” October 20, 2018
Marion Oliver McCaw Hall, Seattle
By Melinda Bargreen
Enigmatic, creepy, and short on memorable arias: Britten’s opera “The Turn of the Screw” can be a hard sell. Seattle Opera’s October production, however, made a visually and musically strong case for this haunted 20th-century classic, staged just in time for Halloween.
The company gathered some of its most successful production-team members to present a convincingly versatile setting for this modern classic. Set designer Robert Dahlstrom and projection designer Adam Larsen provided quick-changing and engaging visuals, with doors and windows suddenly appearing and disappearing, and stately-house exteriors melting away to more intimate interior scenes. The show’s 16 scenes were constantly on the move; nothing was static. Connie Yun’s gauzy, ghostly lighting was always in perfect partnership with the sets and the projections – enhancing and concealing as if by magic
The production played heavily on the ambiguity of the plot: is what we are seeing real, or the product of imaginations and dreams? Are the two children, Miles and Flora, innocents or the tools of corruption by the ghostly Peter Quint and Miss Jessel? Peter Kazaras, the stage director and also a tenor, sang the role of Quint in Seattle Opera’s 1994 “Turn of the Screw,” and he’s an old hand at balancing the unseen menace and unsolvable mysteries of the show. In this production, Quint (Benjamin Bliss) lounged almost casually about the set; he doesn’t have to lift a finger to maintain his sinister hold on young Miles. Bliss also sang the opening narration with an effortless ease that underscored his suave persona.
As the Governess, called by an unseen guardian to take care of Miles and Flora, Elizabeth Caballero used her clear, strong soprano artfully to show the evolution of doubts, fears, and finally horror about the children and their increasing domination by Quint and Jessel. Young Forrest Wu and Soraya Mafi were first-rate as Miles and Flora.
Maria Zifchak lifted the secondary role of the housekeeper, Mrs. Grose, to a new level of impact with her resonant voice and her convincing empathy. Marcy Stonikas was both powerful and subtle in the role of Quint’s sinister sidekick, Miss Jessel, joining Quint in the unnerving duet that concludes, “The ceremony of innocence is drowned.”
Conductor Constantin Trinks did a marvelous job with the mercurial score, leading the expert 13-piece orchestra with both virtuosity and careful attention to nuances.
In an era when audiences are more sensitized than ever to questions of abuse and the misuse of power, it was clear from the reception of the performance that despite the production’s excellence, there were some serious misgivings in the house about what the listeners had just heard and seen. Several attendees left at intermission, and the final ovation was at a lower decibel level than usual. In anticipation of this response, Seattle Opera sent out post-opera emails to their constituents, offering articles, podcasts, and further reading to “process the experience” of the opera. Good for them! Opera productions do not exist in a timeless vacuum, and smart companies understand the power of changing times.
The Seattle Symphony Orchestra presents Beethoven’s Violin Concerto, with Ludovic Morlot conducting, and Augustin Hadelich, violin soloist; Benaroya Hall, 200 University St., Seattle; Sept. 20-23, 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
Every once in a while, a concert artist comes along whose playing is so riveting, so beautifully original, that you want to exhort every reader: “Go if you possibly can.”
Such an artist is the violinist Augustin Hadelich, whose performance of the Beethoven Violin Concerto drew a rafter-rattling ovation from a rapt Seattle Symphony audience on Thursday evening.
Hadelich is, of course, no stranger to Seattle audiences; he has appeared here not only with the Symphony (with which he won a Grammy award) but also with the Seattle Chamber Music Society. This year he was named Instrumentalist of the Year by Musical America.
His Beethoven concerto proved a revelation. No gimmicks, no fuss, no virtuoso airs or exaggerations: just great musicianship, superb taste, and a bow arm that makes the violin sing. What Hadelich can do on a purely technical level boggles the music lover. But he has far more than technique; he has great subtlety and depth of feeling. Hadelich has the imagination to make the most of every line, and to shape a heart-stopping cadenza.
A riotous ovation was rewarded with an encore: the famous Paganini Caprice No. 24, a work that has inspired major works by many subsequent composers, most notably Rachmaninov. Fiendishly difficult, this Caprice emerged with supersonic speed and tremendous panache.
Conductor Ludovic Morlot (himself a violinist) and the orchestra gave the soloist commendable, supportive partnership, in a sensitive reading of this beloved concerto.
The first half of the program also found the orchestra in excellent shape for two movements of Debussy’s “Images,” followed by Janáček’s Suite from “The Cunning Little Vixen.” It must have been a difficult decision to omit the second and probably the most popular movement of the three “Images,” “Iberia,” from this program. Morlot wanted to make room in the program’s first half for the Janáček suite, demonstrating the influence of Debussy on this work.
The two Debussy pieces were particularly successful, with gauzy textures and translucent passages, and a lot of virtuoso playing from the woodwinds. This is repertoire that brings out the best in Morlot, who has made his orchestra an excellent exponent of great French music. The Janáček also featured a short but lovely solo from the orchestra’s new concertmaster, Noah Geller, playing his first subscription concert in that role.
The Seattle Symphony Orchestra’s Opening Night Concert, Ludovic Morlot conducting, and piano soloisr Jean-Yves Thibaudet; Benaroya Hall, Seattle, Sept. 15, 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
The Seattle Symphony’s opening night gala is always a celebratory affair, but Saturday night opener brought the festivities to a whole new level.
With the recent news of the Symphony’s international “Orchestra of the Year Award” from the Gramophone 2018 Classical Music Awards, plus the 20th anniversary of Benaroya Hall, the arrival of two important incoming leaders (René Ancinas, the Symphony’s board chair, and president/CEO Krishna Thiagarajan), and the launch of the final season for music director Ludovic Morlot, there’s a lot to commemorate.
The program was a Russian/French affair, opening with Ravel’s colorful and evocative orchestration of Mussorgsky’s famous piano suite, “Pictures at an Exhibition.” It’s one of the ultimate showpieces for orchestra, and Morlot conducted it with an emphasis on the contrasts: huge, powerful statements, overwhelming brass, delicately shimmering textures. This work places every section in the orchestra on display. Among the stars of the performance were principal trumpeter David Gordon and bassoonist Seth Krimsky, although every section put forth spectacular efforts.
After the orchestra’s feisty reading of Khachaturian’s familiar “Sabre Dance” (from the 1942 ballet “Gayane”), piano soloist Jean-Yves Thibaudet arrived for a performance of the same composer’s seldom-heard Piano Concerto. Colorful, propulsive, and occasionally cinematic, this difficult work got a high-intensity, impeccably phrased reading from Thibaudet, who was utterly in command from the tips of his fantastic fingers to his glittery shoes.
Adding to the exquisite colorations of the score, an otherworldly second-movement passage incorporated the eerie, exotic sounds of the musical saw -- beautifully rendered here by Anita Orne (whose classical-saw debut came only last year at the Orcas Island Chamber Music Festival).
Thibaudet, who was the Seattle Symphony’s first “artist in residence” (2015-16), gave the concerto a wonderfully Gallic reading; he’s capable of great keyboard thunder-power, a master of telling details, and an imaginative interpreter for whom no challenge seems too great. He was clearly on the same musical page as Morlot, even when the rising to superhuman speeds in the dizzying finale.
A lengthy and enthusiastic ovation brought Thibaudet back to the stage for an exquisitely phrased solo Ravel encore, the “Pavane for a Dead Princess.” It was a reminder of the French origins of both conductor and soloist, and the perfect, serene close to a most promising season-opener.
RECORDING REVIEW: Gisle Kverndokk’s “SYMPHONIC DANCES,” Stavanger Symphony Orchestra with conductor Ken-David Masur
By Melinda Bargreen
Norwegian’s best-known composers, including Edvard Grieg and Johan Halvorsen, have often turned to folk music as inspiration for their classical scores – orchestral music, piano pieces, chamber music and songs. Thus, it’s not surprising that when the Norwegian Ministry of Culture wanted a work to celebrate the 200th anniversary of Norway’s Constitution, they asked the Stavanger Symphony Orchestra for a new work based on folk music from the different ethnic groups living in the Stavanger area. The Stavanger Symphony chose composer Gisle Kverndokk for this commission, and the results have been newly recorded in a disc that’s remarkable for its variety of colors, themes, and instrumentation.
And it’s certainly not all Nordic. Kverndokk immersed himself in the folk music of Norway’s immigrant communities, incorporating music from twelve different countries: Norway, Sweden, Poland, Greece, Kurdistan, Madagascar, Eritrea, China, Afghanistan, Iran, Cuba and Venezuela.
So what does all this sound like? Not nearly as chaotic as one might surmise from the mashup of cultures this list represents. The music is tonal, attractive, and colorful, and the score’s various movements hang together surprisingly well.
In his statement about the work, composer Kverndokk said: “After a while, I began to feel that all this music was becoming my own, that the material no longer came from different parts of the world but was rather a wide spectrum of beautiful melodies and rhythms living their own lives in my head. Everything fell into place, my musical imagination was running at full speed, and the piece almost wrote itself.”
Kverndokk soon discovered common threads among his folk-theme sources; songs about the sea, love songs, religious themes, and music for life’s landmarks, including weddings and funerals. He incorporated folk songs from all the ethnic sources directly into the score. His resulting composition is described as a “concerto for orchestra,” and it has five movements: "The Sorrow of Loneliness," "Waltz," "Songs About the Sea," "Dance in the Night,” and "Weddings and Funerals."
“The Sorrow of Loneliness” starts out appropriately with a lone English horn and a contemplative theme. Soon there’s a lot of company from the other orchestral voices, punctuated by unquiet passages; what sounds like church bells, and the voice of the English horn again. About halfway through this movement, the full orchestra enters, full of sound and fury and an almost film-score colorful surge of trumpets, drums, portentous themes. Fades away to harp and strings and fluttering woodwinds, finally to a tentative harp solo with piccolo and horn calls, ominous underpinnings. Then the full orchestra returns with a romantic, sweeping film-score theme. In the last minute the English horn returns (unfortunately not quite perfectly in tune).
The other movements are also remarkable for their evocation of time and place, and their use of instrumental colors. The “Waltz,” for instance, starts off wistfully and then gets considerably more rambunctious, with swooping string passages, and phrases that start traditionally and then undergo quicksilver changes. Like its fellows, this movement is cleverly and imaginatively orchestrated.
“Songs About the Sea” opens with another wind solo (this time, the clarinet), followed by a wind chorus of a rather exotic theme over a tango-like bass underpinning. The winds play mostly in fourths, giving the music an exotic flavor, and there are evocative solos for the piano and the harp. Again, this sounds like it could be a film score.
The pictorial quality continues with “Dance in the Night,” whose portentous and rather martial opening sounds like preparations for a war. Sometimes the music turns menacing, with offbeat rhythms that recall “West Side Story.” This dance is definitely more athletic than romantic.
"Weddings and Funerals," the concluding movement, combines what the composer calls “a light and happy funeral song from Madagascar, and a sad wedding march from Sweden. Madagascar celebrates that a soul travels from this world to the next, so a funeral can have a positive feeling. In Scandinavia, in the old days, weddings could be formal and solemn. The Madagascar melody goes through the entire movement, and a very passionate melody from Cuba is placed on top of it. A song from Eritrea is in the middle of this to create rhythmic contrast and the climax is the big, broad Swedish wedding march. The piece fades out with the Madagascar funeral song.”
Ken-David Masur – associate conductor of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and son of the late and legendary podium master Kurt Masur – conducts with great lyrical sweep and the sense of drama these very pictorial pieces require.
The Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Summer Festival, with world premiere by James Newton Howard, July 23, 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
Every summer, a brand-new piece of chamber music comes to life through the efforts (and the wallets) of the Seattle Chamber Music Society’s Commissioning Club. This year’s world premiere, by the prominent film composer James Newton Howard, was unveiled at Monday’s SCMS concert, and it’s a winner: one of the most memorable new works to emerge in the festival thus far. Complicated, jumpy, and disquieting, the Howard piece (bearing the title “They have just arrived at this new level”) bubbles away with a sense of almost cinematic drama.
This is definitely not a score for sissies. This propulsive, energetic work for string quartet, flute, and clarinet/bass clarinet pits the instruments against each other, as well as in occasional harmony. Its virtuoso requirements for all six players make the piece sound positively orchestral in many passages, and the variety of colors produced by the instruments was ear-boggling. The first-rate sextet performing the premiere was composed of string players James Ehnes, Alexander Kerr, Cynthia Phelps, and Clive Greensmith, with virtuoso flutist Jeffrey Barker and the infinitely subtle clarinetist Anthony McGill.
Ehnes, who also is the festival’s artistic director, introduced the premiere and two other Howard works in the first half in a manner as articulate and adroit as any television commentator. He explained Howard’s quirky titles (the premiere was named for a caption in a painting, and another piano piece took its title from an overheard sentence, “We can talk about God some other time”). Ehnes and pianist Andrew Armstrong gave a blistering, pulse-pounding account of Newton’s “1:33 … At Least,” and Armstrong played the jazzy, ruminative piano piece with an easy authority.
The program’s second half was on more familiar ground: Rachmaninoff’s Trio No. 1 and Brahms’ G Major Violin Sonata (Op. 78). The trio (violinist Nurit Bar-Josef, cellist Yegor Dyachkov, and Armstrong) was well balanced, with Armstrong dialing down the considerable thunderpower of the piano part in order to accommodate the strings. The final Brahms sonata got an immaculate performance by violinist Noah Bendix-Balgley, admirably partnered by Max Levinson at the piano, though a little more of Brahms’ lilt and schmaltz would not have gone amiss.
We’re in the next-to-last week of the festival, with many highlights remaining. Clarinet fans will want to catch Wednesday’s concert featuring Anthony McGill in two works; admirers of Korngold are in luck on Wednesday and Friday, with his piano quintet and a suite on the schedule. Next week has the great Franck Piano Quintet in F Minor, and the July 27 finale features Bach’s “The Musical Offering.” We’ll be Bach.
The Seattle Symphony presents “Kullervo,” with Thomas Dausgaard conducting; Benaroya Hall, May 31, 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
Seattle Symphony fans vividly remember the 2015 Sibelius Festival, when principal guest conductor Thomas Dausgaard conducted all seven Sibelius symphonies with the kind of audience response you usually see in championship sports events.
No wonder Dausgaard, who will become the orchestra’s music director in the fall of 2019, has chosen another major work of the Finnish composer for the current set of subscription programs. This time it’s “Kullervo,” Sibelius’ setting of episodes from the Finnish epic poem about the adventures (and misadventures) of a flawed hero.
Most conductors would program and conduct the work in the belief that audience members who wanted to find out more would simply consult the program notes. Not Dausgaard. Instead, he has chosen to illuminate “Kullervo” by assembling an onstage preview, in which excerpts from the work are presented alongside the Nordic folk music that inspired it. This preview, designed by Dausgaard and composer/musician Timo Alakotila, brought the audience inside the music in some delightful ways, revealing with the aid of traditional instruments the sounds that might have been in Sibelius’ mind as he composed this epic work.
Joining the Symphony players and Symphony Chorale singers on the Benaroya stage were Ilkka Kallio, a Runo singer (specialist in early Finnish folksong); Vilma Timonen, a kantele (Finnish zither) player; and Alakotila, at the harmonium (a small manually-pumped organ that gave a wonderful flavor to the folk music). Their evocative sounds, along with those of soprano soloist Maria Männistö and members of both the Cappella Romana vocal ensemble and the Seattle Symphony Chorale, gave the listeners a musical window on Sibelius’ inspiration.
The performance of “Kullervo” that followed this introduction was remarkably colorful, full of vitality and also a deep melancholy. Audience members could hear clear traces of the folk music they had just heard in the preview. With Dausgaard’s precise, eloquent leadership, the work’s episodes took shape in a performance of surging energy.
In the third movement, depicting the ill-fated meeting of Kullervo and his sister, baritone soloist Benjamin Appl was impassioned and impressive. Männistö sang with her usual clarity and elegant lyricism, though the musical lines were sometimes a bit low for her ideal range. Dausgaard cued the soloists so attentively that he probably could have sung right along with them. This is clearly music of his heart; lucky are the listeners who get to share it.
Seattle Opera presents Verdi’s “Aida,” with John Fiore conducting; Saturday, May 5, and Sunday, May 6, Marion Oliver McCaw Hall at Seattle Center.
By Melinda Bargreen
“Aida” may well be the grandest of the grand operas, but it needs inspired staging and exceptional voices in order to make Verdi’s masterpiece shine.
Seattle Opera’s current “Aida” does just that. Co-produced with San Francisco Washington National, and Minnesota Operas, this classic opera about passion, jealousy, and war is visually and musically spectacular. The crucial dialogues in the opera take on a new intensity; the larger-scale scenes have an almost over-the-top energy, with lots of action and bold design elements that constantly shift and move. The exuberant finale of Act II had the stage full of dancing, singing, and a hailstorm of tiny gold “glitter discs” pouring down like confetti on the cast.
Francesca Zambello, a renowned stage director with a lot of Seattle Opera history, created the original staging for this production; E. Loren Meeker has reinterpreted the staging for Seattle. The result is an imaginative balance between the show’s big-moment pageantry and the intimate smaller-scale scenes. “Aida” can feel like a series of pompous tableaux, but this production is never static, always evolving.
There’s a lot to see in Michael Yeargan’s ingenious, inventive set, and in the vibrant, red-and-gold hieroglyph/graffiti-influenced designs of the artist RETNA. They’re strikingly effective: these designs might be seen on today’s urban street scene, yet onstage they evoke ancient hieroglyphics in unreadable, cryptic messages.
The show’s musical values were in good hands with conductor John Fiore, a native Seattleite who now has a major European career. Pacing the orchestra musicians, supporting the singers, and giving Verdi’s timeless melodies their full due, Fiore extracted the maximum drama from the score with an impeccable sense of timing.
The opening-night cast on Saturday presented American soprano Leah Crocetto in the title role. Her voice is beautiful, large and vibrant, and she is a passionate actress. Unfortunately she was not shown to advantage by the dumpy outfit from designer Anita Yavich. Milijana Nikolic, as her victorious rival Amneris, was luckier, attired in a beautiful yellow gown, in which she looked appropriately stately. Her voice, however, was more variable on both extremes of its compass: the bottom notes had a heavy vibrato and little carrying power, and the top notes were strained.
In the role of Radamès, the ill-fated commander who loves Aida, Brian Jagde displayed superb power and focus, but also was able to dial down that Wagner-sized tenor a bit in his more tender scenes with Aida. Gordon Hawkins made a compelling, complex Amonasro; the stentorian Daniel Sumegi was the implacable high priest, Ramfis; and Clayton Brainerd made an effective King. Even the smaller roles shone: Eric Neuville’s lyrical Messenger, and the powerful Marcy Stonikas as the High Priestess.
On Sunday, an alternate cast took over the principal roles. Alexandra LoBianco gave a subtle but impassioned performance in the title role; her Radamès, David Pomeroy, proved an excellent singing actor, and Alfred Walker made a compelling Amonasro. Elena Gabouri’s remarkable Amneris had a pushy lower register into which she seemed to downshift whenever the vocal score went below middle C, but she sang with such spectacular conviction and all-out intensity that it was hard not to root for her.
The chorus, prepared by John Keene and absolutely essential to the success of “Aida,” sang with strength and accuracy.
Arresting images from the production haunt the memory: the moonlit opening of Act III, where dancers appear to float on a floor of stage fog, one of many beautiful effects highlighted by lighting designers Mark McCullough and his associate Peter W. Mitchell. Despite the famous grandiosity of the opera, this show never feels static, largely because of Jessica Lang’s imaginative choreography. Lang highlights the exquisite principal dancer Laura Mead – along with a charming crew of children who performed a high-energy dance in Amneris’ boudoir. The three-hour show passes by in a twinkling.
The King’s Singers, presented by Early Music Seattle; Seattle First Baptist Church, April 12, 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
They came; they sang; they conquered.
The King’s Singers – the famous and much-recorded British vocal sextet – arrived in Seattle for an April 12 program that was a welcome reminder of the wide repertoire and remarkable artistry that has made this genre-bending ensemble so popular.
Can it really be 50 years since the Singers started working their a cappella wizardry? – Not the same singers, of course! Over the five decades there have been 18 official versions of the sextet (some of those versions with a few overlapping members: the countertenor David Hurley and founding baritone Simon Carrington were among the members present in several iterations). The current lineup (No. 18) features countertenors Patrick Dunachie and Timothy Wayne-Wright, tenor Julian Gregory, baritones Christopher Bruerton and Christopher Gabbitas, and bass Jonathan Howard.
A few decades back, when the ensemble began making regular stops in Seattle, they performed in the Opera House (now Marion Oliver McCaw Hall). In more recent years, however, audiences have shrunk; the April 12 Seattle concert was held in a considerably smaller venue, Seattle First Baptist Church. In many ways, this is an attractive setting – beautiful edifice, excellent sightlines, relatively comfortable pews – but for a church, the acoustics are surprisingly dry. None of that flattering reverb; every little flaw in blend or attack is exposed (though there were remarkably few of those).
This ensemble may lack the almost airbrushed perfection of some of its predecessors, but the musicianship and the timing were both highly impressive in this varied and demanding program. The more serious first half, designed to show off the sextet’s classical origins and traditional musicianship, was an international collection of short works from several past centuries – including the 15th-century “Prayer of King Henry VI” (the king in whose name King’s College, Cambridge, was founded in 1441).
The vocal agility of the singers was amply established in the 16th-century “Revecy venir du Printans,” with its speedy and elegant passagework. Lassus’ “Chi chilichi” got a humorous nudge from a witty bass glissando and from the group’s imitation of bagpipes (holding their noses for an appropriately nasal sound). Monteverdi’s better-known “Si, ch’io vorrei moriri” was appropriately impassioned, with much sighing over the amorous lyrics. Equally fun was the group members’ running commentary preceding the music (in one case promising texts with “unsavory bits of naughtiness”).
The program’s second half featured the close-harmony folk and pop arrangements that account for the Singers’ wide popularity (madrigals will take you only so far in the marketplace). Some of the selections, including “We Are” (setting of a Maya Angelou poem) were by Bob Chilcott, a former King’s Singer who happens to be a terrific composer and arranger. Chilcott also provided an adventurous take on the spiritual “Steal Away.”
Other highlights ranged from “Lamorna” and “Danny Boy” to close-harmony arrangements of “Down with Love” and “I’ve Got the World on a String.” At a few points, some of those close-harmony key changes took a split-second or two to slip properly into focus, but most of the time the ensemble level was awe-inspiring.
A warm ovation brought the sextet back for Rossini’s “William Tell” Overture, as only the King’s Singers could do it.
A final note: In honor of the group’s 50th anniversary, they have released a three-disc set called “Gold” that offers highlights of the King’s Singers’ enormously diverse recorded output, as well as a book about the group’s half-century. If you missed the concert – and if you didn’t – this is a set to inspire admiration … and nostalgia.
The Seattle Symphony Orchestra, with Ludovic Morlot, conductor; Benaroya Hall, Seattle, March 22, 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
The symphonic repertoire is full of music that evokes aquatic environments, from Handel’s “Water Music” to Debussy’s “La Mer” and John Luther Adams’ “Become Ocean.” The Seattle Symphony’s current program, unveiled March 22 in Benaroya Hall, vividly evokes the sea in its first half, with Sibelius’ tone poem “The Oceanides” and Britten’s “Four Sea Interludes” and “Passacaglia” (from the opera “Peter Grimes”).
This is repertoire that music director Ludovic Morlot and the orchestra will present in an upcoming tour of California and Nevada, along with the Sibelius Symphony No. 2 and the award-winning “Become Ocean” (which the SSO commissioned and premiered in 2014). Joining them on tour will be the stellar pianist Jeremy Denk and Beethoven’s “Emperor” Concerto (as well as Adams’ new “Become Desert,” which will be premiered here March 29 and 31).
Judging from Thursday evening’s performance of the Britten and Sibelius “sea” works, and the Sibelius symphony, the SSO should be poised to make an excellent impression on California audiences.
This is an orchestra that deeply understands Sibelius, a fact that was made clear in a 2015 Sibelius Festival that is still recalled with reverence by local music lovers. In the seldom-heard “Oceanides,” Morlot and his players colorfully evoked the legendary sea creatures of the title, with the wind soloists as the seabirds and the low strings providing the rolling waves.
Even better was the more complex Britten work, where excellent solos from all the principal winds and from violist Susan Gulkis Assadi created not only a nautical atmosphere, but also recalled the darker world of the opera’s plot and protagonist. The performance brought to life the shimmering nuances of the score, along with Britten’s masterly depiction of a relentless gathering storm.
The final work on the program, Sibelius’ Symphony No. 2, had nothing to do with the sea, but everything to do with presenting the orchestra at its best. What a great piece this is! Crammed with beautiful melodies, picturesque episodes, and grand statements, the Second Symphony challenges every section of the orchestra to excel individually and collectively. Morlot gave the wind soloists plenty of free rein for remarkably expressive solo work (oboist Mary Lynch and flutist Jeffrey Barker were among the many standouts).
In the last few bars of the Sibelius symphony, when the minor key transforms into the major and it sounds as if the sun has come out, the orchestra played exultantly enough to remind even the most jaded audience member: This is why we go to concerts, and don’t just sit at home in front of the stereo speakers. This is our reward for buying tickets, dressing up, fighting traffic, battling the rain. Now it’s worth it..
Seattle Opera presents “Beatrice and Benedict,” Berlioz opera in Seattle Opera production; with Ludovic Morlot conducting and staging by John Langs. Marion Oliver McCaw Hall at Seattle Center, February 2018.
By Melinda Bargreen
Hector Berlioz’s last opera, “Beatrice and Benedict,” has been performed since 1862 – but Seattle Opera audiences heard a world premiere of the work last weekend.
How so? The Seattle Opera production is a unique hybrid of the opera Berlioz wrote, plus new scenes lifted from the Shakespearean play (“Much Ado About Nothing”) on which the opera is based. Accompanying the added spoken dialogue from “Much Ado,” there’s a liberal infusion of music from other Berlioz works. Fans of choral music may be startled to hear a famous Christmas piece, the “Shepherds’ Farewell” from Berlioz’s “L’enfance du Christ,” not to mention selections from his “Benvenuto Cellini” and “La damnation du Faust.” (Seattle Opera’s Jonathan Dean wrote nicely-judged lyrics for the interpolated music.)
The concept was created by a partnership that included Seattle Opera’s general director Aidan Lang, ACT Theatre artistic director John Langs, and Seattle Symphony music director Ludovic Morlot. It’s an imaginative contribution to the current Seattle Celebrates Shakespeare Festival (with two dozen local companies saluting the Bard in music, theater, dance and film).
Fast-paced, action-packed, and nobly sung, “Beatrice and Benedict” also is a production with some problems. The score is unevenly inspired; it’s chaotic, and short on memorable melodies. The libretto, taken from Shakespeare and translated into French, has been translated back into English again, with additional lengthy spoken dialogues and monologues that weren’t in Berlioz’s opera. The result is a hybrid of opera and play.
The performers are amplified for the spoken (Shakespearean) dialogues, some of which occur at a speed that make them almost unintelligible despite the discreet microphones. The singing is unamplified, as is usual in opera, and the text is projected in the supertitles above the stage; even though it’s sung in English, the titles are helpful.
The interpolated spoken dialogues add both context and complexity to the Berlioz original, which didn’t include the crucial Shakespearean plot twist that nearly derails the wedding of two major characters.
Constantly on the move, this fast-paced production has the cast – attired in Deborah Trout’s spectacularly colorful costumes -- leaping up and down stairs on Matthew Smucker’s versatile, multi-level set. Cheers to the versatile and active Seattle Opera Chorus (John Keene, chorusmaster), and to choreographer Helen Heaslip. The lighting, by Connie Yun, was highly varied and occasionally disconcerting, as when the stage was suddenly bathed in purple to accompany a mournful aria.
On Saturday night, the impetuous and feisty title roles were taken by Daniela Mack and Alek Shrader -- both high-energy singers and compelling actors who were completely believable as opponents and as lovers. Sunday’s show had the excellent and well-matched Hanna Hipp and Andrew Owens, respectively.
The real scene-stealers here, however, were the young lovers whose wedding is interrupted. Shelly Traverse, who stepped into the role of Hero on short notice as a substitute for indisposed soprano Laura Tatulescu, charmed the audience with her voice and stage presence, both lovely and unaffected. Craig Verm, as her would-be husband Claudio, sang beautifully and was a compelling actor.
Marvin Grays was an effective Leonato; Daniel Sumegi a powerful Don Pedro; and Brandon O’Neill and Avery Clark were the villains you love to hate. Kevin Burdette’s over-the-top Somarone was consistently hilarious. Christine Marie Brown, Chip Sherman, and Avery Amereau all shone in smaller roles.
Seattle Symphony music director Ludovic Morlot, a well-known exponent of Berlioz’s music, stitched up this varied musical fabric into a persuasive whole, giving the singers plenty of expressive opportunities while never allowing the pace to flag. Berlioz described his own opera as “A caprice written with the point of a needle”; Morlot wielded that precise “needle” as his baton.
Seattle Opera presents Mozart’s “Cosi fan tutte,” with Paul Daniel conducting, production design by Jonathan Miller, revival staging by Harry Fehr; Marion Oliver McCaw Hall, Jan. 13- 27, 2018.
Lightning can strike twice in the same place, as Seattle Opera proved this past weekend with a revival of its very successful 2006 “Cosi fan tutte.” The Mozart opera, in a production that was earlier updated to the 21st century by the inventive English director Jonathan Miller, demolishes a lot of stage clichés with a brash modernist zest.
At the heart of the production is a pair of casts that are vocally excellent, good-looking, and closely attuned to each other’s every nuance. “Cosi” is an ensemble opera, not a star vehicle, with two young couples at the center and two conspirators who propel the action forward.
One reason Saturday’s opening-night cast was such a success was the “sister act” of two real-life sisters -- Marina Costa-Jackson as Fiordiligi and Ginger Costa-Jackson as Dorabella. Stage business has seldom seemed so real: watching the lovely Costa-Jackson sisters pose, primp, tussle and tease was just fun. Both have rich, beautifully produced voices of considerable agility (Marina’s “Come scoglio” was a show-stopping standout), and they are just right for these roles.
Their boyfriends, Tuomas Katajala (in the tenor role of Ferrando) and baritone Craig Verm (as Guglielmo), proved equally adroit, athletic actors with unique vocal strengths: Katajala’s lyricism and Verm’s warm baritone were a pleasure to hear. “Revival director” Harry Fehr had them dashing about the stage, doing push-ups, posturing, and in more or less constant motion.
A different quartet of principals took over for the Sunday (alternate) cast: just as high-energy, and with their own spin on the roles. There’s a bit more steel, and a lot of great technique, in Marjukka Tepponen’s Fiordiligi (she has a glorious laugh), and much to admire in Hanna Hipp’s more yielding, lyrical Dorabella. Ben Bliss brought a bright, beautifully produced tone to Ferrando, and Michael Adams was a smoothly sonorous Guglielmo.
As Despina, Laura Tatulescu was both versatile and clever. Kevin Burdette gave a detailed and suave portrayal of the wily Don Alfonso, who sets the plot into motion by proposing that the boyfriends test their girls’ fidelity by wooing each other’s girl in disguise. It’s a cynical and rather queasy premise: two pairs of happy lovers broken apart as the young men try to win Alfonso’s wager – making themselves unhappy when the girls succumb to their “new” suitors. The opera’s title, translated as “All women are like that,” reflects a callous worldview that is not represented in the rapturous, ardent music.
This is a relatively long show (close to three and a half hours), but conductor Paul Daniel kept the musical pace humming along, though there were some unusual bloopers Saturday in the orchestra. Daniel also supported the singers admirably with his continuo playing (on a particularly fine fortepiano), with cellist Meeka Quan DiLorenzo.
The Seattle Opera Chorus, which has relatively little to do and is sensibly stashed offstage, sang well. The witty, topical supertitles by Jonathan Dean identify the principal singers as “ladies from Seattle” and “gentlemen from Portland.”
All of the cast members looked great in Cynthia Savage’s contemporary costumes, from the high-style glamour of the sisters’ outfits to the hilarious “biker dudes” getup assumed by their boyfriends in disguise. Since Miller, the original production director, believes that we become different people when we wear disguises, the costumes really count in this show.