Showing posts with label Rise Stevens. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rise Stevens. Show all posts

Monday, November 28, 2011

Music Review: "Les Contes d'Hoffman" - Metropolitan Opera

This article was first published at Blogcritic.

The first I ever heard of Jaques Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffman was back in a music appreciation lesson in grade school.  The teacher would play melodies from a variety of classical compositions and we would be given a lyric to sing along as a kind of mnemonic device to help us remember the melody.  Here is the lyric from the Offenbach opera.  It is still embedded in my memory: "Barcarole from Tales of Hoffman written by Offenbach."  While some might wonder how this kind of thing could lead to anything like appreciation, somehow it did.  Indeed one of the first recordings of classical music in my budding record collection some years later was an album of highlights from Hoffman, an album that has long since disappeared, to be replaced by a full cast recording led by Placido Domingo which has also disappeared.

Now along comes a remastering of a monaural recording of a December, 1955 Metropolitan Opera radio broadcast of the opera conducted by Pierre Monteux and starring the magnificent Richard Tucker as Hoffman, a trio of all star sopranos--Roberta Peters, Rise Stevens and  Lucine Amara—as his three loves, and Martial Singher as his various nemeses.  And while I am not sure that Offenbach's opera gets the same kind of respect accorded to some other composers, I am sure that Les Contes d'Hoffman is not only filled with romance, drama and humor, but with some brilliant music as well.   More importantly, this is a recording that does it full justice.

The opera begins with a prologue in which the poet, Hoffman, meets his rival for the love of the prima donna, Stella and is coaxed into telling the stories of the three great loves of his life.  The first act deals with his love for Olympia, a mechanical doll, who he is tricked into thinking is a real woman.  The second act in this production takes place in Venice and tells of his love for the duplicitous courtesan Giulietta who has been bribed to steal his shadow.  Act III is the story of Antonia who suffers from an inherited weakness that may kill her if she sings.  In the opera's epilogue, Hoffman resolves to give up Stella an devote himself to his muse.  The stories are all adapted from the actual stories of the fantasist, E.T. A. Hoffman.

The highlight of the prologue is Tucker's aria in which he tells the story of the dwarf, Kleinzach, as is his beautiful  "Allons! Courage et confiance—Ah! Vivre deux" in the first act. Roberta  Peter's first act rendition of the famous "Les Oiseaux dans la charmille" in which the mechanical doll keeps running down and has to be rewound is appropriately doll-like.  The second act opens with the first of appearance of the "Barcarole" theme sung by Rise Stevens and Mildred Miller as Hoffman's muse.  Echoes of the theme are repeated in the wonderful sestet that closes the act, and it reappears as an orchestral interlude at the between the third act and the epilogue.  Singher's aria, "Scintille diamante" and the dramatic duet between Stevens and Tucker are the highlights of the second act.  Act III has a number of wonderful moments including  Lucine Amara's opening aria, "Elle a fui, la tourterelle!" and the stirring trio with the mother's voice (Sandra Warfield), Antonia and the evil Dr. Miracle (Singher).  Then, of course, there is the dynamic finale that ends the epilogue. 

Les Contes d'Hoffman is probably one of the most accessible of operas and in the hands of this wonderful cast it shines like a jewel.  Altogether it is a production to be savored. 




Monday, November 21, 2011

Music Review: Carmen, Metropolitan Opera 1952

This article was first published at Blogcritics.

If Georges Bizet's Carmen is not the most popular opera in the standard repertoire, it certainly is one of the two or three in contention.  Deservedly so, it has a tempestuous love story in an exotic setting, gorgeous melodies and as magnificent a starring role as any diva lover could hope for.  Although the composer's last opera, he died a couple of months after its premiere, was something of a critical failure when it opened, its popularity has only grown ever since.  Today a staple in opera houses all over the world, there are recordings aplenty available: no mezzo soprano worth her salt would give up a chance to sing the lead.  From Maria Callas who never performed the role on stage and Leontyne Price in the sixties to contemporaries like Angela Gheorghiu whose voice some feel is wrong for the role, there are Carmen's enough, great ones and some not so great, you would think to fill any record collection.

You would be wrong.  There is never too much of a good thing.  Perhaps the mezzo best known for her Carmen back in the fifties was Rise Stevens.  She sang the role at the Metropolitan Opera 124 times and in 1952 appeared as Carmen on one of the first of the televised Met productions.  There is a 1951  recording of  one of  her performances, but while praised for  her performance, the sound leaves something to be desired, and there are some complaints about tenor Jan Peerce.  The new release of a remastered February 16th 1952 Metropolitan Opera radio broadcast under the direction of Fritz Reiner comes then as a welcome addition to the opera's discography. Although there does seem to be a earlier version of this broadcast on Walhall Eternity Series. 

Joining Stevens is a stellar cast directed by Tyrone Guthrie.  Richard Tucker is the spurned lover, Don Jose. Micaela, the sweet peasant yang to Carmen's yin is sung  by Nadine Conner. Carmen's friends at the factory, Frasquita and Mercedes are played by Lucine Amara and  Margaret Roggero.  Zuniga, the head of the guards is Osie Hawkins.  Paolo Silveri is the toreador, Escamillo. 

Conventional wisdom has it that Stevens indeed made the role her own both with her voice and her acting.  Her Carmen is both sexy and cruel, and she carries it off with consummate skill.  Whether in her entrance with the famed "L'amour est un oiseau rebelle" or her seduction of Don Jose in Act I's glorious "Prѐs des remparts de Séville" she justifies everything that has been said about her.   It is a compelling performance.  Richard Tucker, a tenor with a rich vibrant voice, makes Stevens a wonderful partner.  His "Flower Song" at the end of the second act is one of the highlights of the opera and his first act duet with Amara is a thing of beauty.  Paolo Silveri, of course, has the crowd rousing "Toréador, en garde!" and he is spot on.  The stirring chorus just before the end of the last act is another high point. There may well better recordings of Carmen, but this is a truly excellent performance and it stands up well still after all these years. 




Sunday, December 12, 2010

Music Review: The Chocolate Soldier-Studio Cast Recording

This article was first published at Blogcritics

Masterworks Broadway's recent release of the 1958 studio cast recording of the classic 1908 operetta,The Chocolate Soldier, is a welcome opportunity for modern audiences to become reacquainted with one of the finer examples of an art form much neglected in this day and age. Sung through musicals like Les Miz and melodramatic extravaganzas like Phantom come close, and while one may argue that they are the contemporary heirs of the older genre, they are clearly the product of a different sensibility. The Chocolate Soldier belongs to another age: it smacks of evening dress, handle bar mustaches and horses and carriage. Still, if its form is of another time, its message at least is clearly of today.

Based on George Bernard Shaw's anti-war satire, Arms and the Man, The Chocolate Soldier ridicules the idea that war is a heroic endeavor, by creating as its hero a man who carries chocolates in his ammunition belt rather than bullets. He is escaping from the front lines when he sneaks into the bedroom of a beautiful young lady who is engaged to an enemy officer, with the obvious results. Shaw allowed his play to be used as the basis of the operetta, according to Stanley Green's program notes, on condition that the names of the characters are changed and none of his dialogue be used for fear that a popular musical would have a negative effect on productions of the original.

The operetta premiered in Vienna in 1908 with music by written by Oscar Straus and a libretto by Rudolph Bernauer and Leopold Jacobson. An English translation by Stanislaus Stange debuted on Broadway in 1909. The 1958 recording features Metropolitan Opera stars Rise Stevens as Nadina and Robert Merrill as Buneli, the eponymous chocolate soldier. Peter Palmer, who had starred as Li'l Abner on Broadway played Alexius, Nadina's fiancé and Jo Sullivan is Mascha, the maid he eventually marries.

At times the music tends toward what used to be called the schmaltzy; at other times there are touches of Gilbert and Sullivan. The best known piece in the operetta is "My Hero" from the first of the three acts. The "Come, come, I love you truly" section is custom made for the gorgeous soprano of Rise Stevens. It is reprised in a duet with Merrill as part of the finale to Act II. It is an iconic piece in the operetta canon, the kind of song that is the glory of the genre for those that like it and probably the object of derision for those that don't. The lyrics may be a bit clunky for modern taste, but the lush melody makes up for that in spades. "Never Was There Such a Lover" is a clever falling out of love duet between Stevens and Palmer. "The Chocolate Soldier" could have been a witty duet for Stevens and Merrill, but it loses a lot with some of the phrasing in the chorus.

Gilbert and Sullivan echoes begin with the first act Introduction both with the marching male ensemble and the young maiden trio. "Seek the Spy," a piece for the ensemble, could have come right out of any of the Gilbert and Sullivan opus. The same is true for "Alexius the Heroic," a set piece for Palmer along with the ensemble. The cutesy "Letter Song" in the third act, on the other hand seems less of an echo; it is also less compelling musically. I guess if you are going to be channeling anyone, you can't do better than Gilbert and Sullivan.

The Chocolate Soldier is not for everyone. It is a period piece for a period that has long gone, but for many it will bring back fond memories. For those of you, cancel that. For those of us who loved The Student Prince, this album is a treasure. For those of us who remember Nelson Eddy and Jeanette MacDonald, this album is a must. For those of us who look forward to the New Year's Eve productions of Die Fledermaus, this is an album that belongs in our music libraries.