Contemplating the plight of the mezzo soprano

In just a week, I will be conducting my next concert with the Quad City Wind Ensemble.  Among the works on our program is the "Habanera," from Bizet's Carmen.  This opera has always held a special place for me as it was the first opera that I ever saw in its entirety; in fact some of my friends joined me the following night for a subsequent performance.  Who couldn't be enthralled with the costumes, the sets, the cast of irresistible characters and, of course, the wonderful music.  Even this then-high school student thought, "This is really cool."

So, over the years I've developed a rather intimate relationship with Bizet's gypsy (or her story anyway).  I penned a study of the work as a master's student at the University of Northern Iowa; have conducted excerpts with a number of wind groups, and even presented two arias with a fabulous mezzo-soprano (Alicja Wegorzewska) in Poland.  And now the habanera (actually a dance of Cuban origin) reappears.

Oddly enough, Carmen's return to my repertoire has gotten me once again contemplating, but this time on the "plight" of the mezzo soprano.  We all know the great tenors of each generation as well as the multitude of sopranos--lyrical, dramatic, coloratura, etc.  But the poor mezzos are in nearly the same boat as baritones (who seem to always get a good tune and little else) and the bassos, who are usually cast as buffoons (unless appearing as a "stone guest" in Don Giovanni).  It has long been said that mezzo soprano roles are limited to "witches, bitches, and britches," the latter referring to "trouser roles" in which the female singer takes on a male persona.

It never ceases to amaze that Carmen was, in its first production, a monumental flop.  Bizet was caught up by both sides of the Wagnerian debate: scorned for not sufficiently embracing Wagner's style while being scathed for the intentional stress on the orchestra (and its resplendent colors) as a vital part of the opera.  Of course, the opera also premiered at the Opera-Comique, which was known to offer PG-13 productions at the most.  The audiences of the time were simply not quite ready for what would become verismo, or realism in opera.  The first run was 48 performances; Bizet succumbed to a heart attack after the thirtieth.  Once the opera moved away from Paris to a Viennese production that Bizet signed off one day before his death, the opera became the "hit" that it has remained ever since.  Carmen remains the third most performed opera (worldwide) during the 2011-12 season.

Carmen is truly the great role for this voice.  She is a "bad girl," but gets some of the most memorable tunes in the operatic repertoire.  Her voice must be incredibly elastic for in the fourth act she sings a downward phrase that traverses two octaves.  And the color of the mezzo soprano voice truly is a dynamic combination with a lyric tenor, so close are the extremities of their ranges.

Selecting the great tenors of the age was a fairly easy task (as I was limiting myself to a single aria), but the greatest Carmen of them all?  A much more difficult task indeed.  The role was created by the famous mezzo Celestine Galli-Marie; in fact it comes to us as her most well known role.  But what of the great Carmen's of our time?

Emmy Destinn

Our Carmen discography actually begins with a German-speaking recording featuring the Czech mezzo Emmy Destinn and Bruno Seidler-Winkler conducting an unknown orchestra.  Here it is with a rather odd intro and a rather brisk tempo (possibly the result of limited time to a "side" of a 78 r.p.m. recording?)  An interesting side note:  Destinn's artistry was so respected that her likeness appeared on the 2000-Czech koruna note in 1996.

We must feature Risë Stevens (an American!) as the Met's most popular mezzo during the 40's and 50's.  One must not forget that she was also a star of the big screen, appearing opposite both Nelson Eddy and Bing Crosby, among others.  It seems only appropriate that Carmen would be her swan song, offered at the Met in 1961.

De Los Angeles--WOW!

Next, I offer the amazing Victoria De Los Angeles.  Of course she was fortunate enough to reach the height of her career at the dawn of the stereo age and the recording here, with Thomas Beecham and the Orchestre Philharmonique de Radio France.  It only better shows off her wonderful instrument, but I wonder, was she just a bit flat at the conclusion?

Diva of all divas?

Here is an odd recording (the conductor simply flies through the orchestral interludes) but it's difficult to argue with the performance of Maria Callas (still in pretty darn good voice).  While she became a caricature of herself in her later career, Opera News wrote of her in 2006, "Nearly thirty years after her death, she's still the definition of the diva as artist—and still one of classical music's best-selling vocalists."  (Of course, lest we forget, Callas was a true soprano.)

Marilyn Horne

Here's Marilyn Horne singing outdoors!  One certainly cannot argue with her sound either.  For me, the role is best offered with the darkness of the mezzo voice.  This is a singer capable of executing everything from bel canto (often with Joan Sutherland) to Wozzeck.  Diagnosed with localized pancreatic cancer in 2005, Ms. Horne is (thankfully) still with us.

Tatiana Troyanos appeared in Georg Solti's highly acclaimed recording with Placido Domingo and the London Philharmonic.  (She must also be remembered for her selection to sing on Bernstein's "definitive" (i.e. "operatic") recording of West Side Story.

Migenes-Johnson

Jessye Norman doesn't make my cut; maybe it is due to Seiji Ozawa's languishingly slow choice of tempo; for me it loses its sensuality.  On the other hand, Teresa Berganza must make my list of great Carmen's with this live performance.  And Julia Migenes-Johnson makes quite a splash in this 1984 film version, in which her counterpart, Placido Domingo looks so young (which he is!)  While most of Migenes-Johnson's career has been spent in musical theater, she pulls this off extremely well.

There is one voice missing from this list of great Carmen's and possibly my attachment is due to familiarity: this is the first recording I owned.  Of course, Herbert von Karajan assembled a "dream team" of sorts with Franco Corelli, Mirella Freni, Robert Merrill and Leontyne Price in the leading role.  With hats off to all the rest, she will remain "my" Carmen.  Although considered a "spinto" soprano, one cannot argue with her ability to pull off the demands (particularly in the lower range) of the role.

Perhaps tomorrow I should contemplate Carmen Jones?

Contemplating greatness and tradition

The greatest?

I am now conducting the Black Hawk College/Community Band and one of our members who maintains the group's Facebook page frequently sends out information regarding the music we are performing.  He includes historical data as well as links to significant performances.  One of the works we are preparing is a lovely transcription of Puccini's "Nessun Dorma," from his final opera, Turandot.  Until a few weeks ago I always considered Luciano Pavarotti's performance of that aria the sine qua non of all time.  But with a little digging, my mind has surely changed.

Performances range from the ridiculous:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2DwZ-GMHyho (Aretha Franklin at the 1998 Grammies)

To a number of them, sublime in their own way:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg-59NoES2o (Franco Corelli); http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrJC7l5Pn-k (Mario del Monaco); http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrJC7l5Pn-k (another Mario, this one the then-27-year-old Lanza).

But it took a visit to a web site touting a review of some 130 performances to find what is truly the best, in terms of sound, control and just plain overall chills and thrills.  When compared to this singer, Pavarotti himself said, "I am only mortal," http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xT09SI0LAjg  (the amazing Jussi Bjorling, clocking in at nearly a minute longer than anyone else and yet his voice just simply shines.)

* * * * * * * * * *

This past week I somehow entered into a cyberspace discussion with musicologist and Iowa Public Radio host Barney Sherman about the amazing influx of great Hungarian conductors around the mid point of the 20th century (the thread actually began with kudos to another radio announcer's correct pronunciation of conductor Antal Dorati's last name:  the emphasis is on the first syllable; otherwise it sounds Italian.)  But consider this list:  Eugene Ormandy, George Szell, Sir George Solti, the aforementioned Mr. Dorati, Christoph von Dohnányi, István Kertész, Adam and Ivan Fischer, Rafael Kubelík, Fritz Reiner, Hans Swarowsky.  And this does not include Artur Nikisch and others of an earlier era.

Barney and I were just astounded at the number of great conductors from this seemingly small country.  What was the impetus?  What was the connection? The Liszt Academy?  Thanks to a Hungarian friend, Laszlo Marosi, now of the University of Central Florida, I was able to uncover the mystery.

A couple of the conductors get a pass:  while born in Budapest, Szell (originally György Széll) grew up in Vienna and von Dohnányi (interestingly enough, Szell's successor in Cleveland) was German-born and bred.

But here's the scoop on the rest:

Ormandy was born Jenő Blau in Budapest and trained as a violinist at the Royal National Hungarian Academy of Music (now the Lizst Academy).  He came to America in 1921 and, through a fellow countryman, Erno Rupee, became a violist and eventual concertmaster of the orchestra of New York's Capital Theater, performing accompaniments for silent movies.  He caught the attention of Arthur Judson, one of the most powerful men in the music business for much of the 20th century, and the rest is history.  He held exactly two conducting positions for the rest of his life:  The Minneapolis Symphony (now the Minnesota Orchestra) and his unprecedented 44-year tenure with the Philadelphia Orchestra.

Did he ever smile?

Reiner also studied at the Liszt Academy and moved to the U.S. in 1922, assuming leadership of the Cincinnati Symphony.  Teaching at the Curtis Institute and conducting the Pittsburgh Symphony also brought him to the Metropolitan Opera (and an appearance in the film, Carnegie Hall).  Of course, Reiner is best known for his tenure (of only ten years) with the Chicago Symphony.

He could smile (thankfully)

Solti, born György Stern, well-known as a pianist at the Liszt Academy, knew that he was to become a conductor at the age of 14 after hearing Erich Kleiber conduct Beethoven's Fifth.  While he would make his operatic debut in a 1938 Budapest Opera production of The Marriage of Figaro, that would be his last performance there as the next day Hitler annexed Austria and the next year Solti fled to Switzerland, where he would spend the entire war years.  He led the Bavarian State Orchestra and the Frankfurt Opera after the war, and moving to the U.S. in 1960, signing a three-year contract with the Los Angeles Philharmonic.  Because of a conflict with management, his stay was but a year, however, Solti was never out of work:  his subsequent appointments included Covent Garden (until 1971) and, of course, the Chicago Symphony, from 1969 to 1991.  While his achievements are many and great, of most significance was the first-ever complete stereo recording of Wagner's Ring, recorded with the Vienna Philharmonic from 1958-1965(!) and including an all-star cast of the greatest singers of the era.

Kertész, born later than many of the others (1929) did not begin his musical studies at the Liszt Academy until after the war.  Early influences included Bruno Walter and Otto Klemperer, then Director of the Budapest Opera, which Kertész himself would lead from 1955-1957.  The quashed Hungarian Revolution of 1957 sent him and his young family into exile in Germany, where he held many positions as a symphonic and operatic conductor.  The players of the Cleveland Orchestra voted 96-2 to install Kertész as the successor to Szell but were overruled by that organization's Board of Directors.  He drowned off the coast of Israel in 1973.  Still, his discography is, to say the least, daunting.

A very young Kubelik

Kubelik was actually born in the modern-day Czech Republic although his mother was a Hungarian countess.  He studied at the Prague Conservatory and was the Principal Conductor of the Czech Philharmonic during the war and founded the Prague Spring Festival in 1946.  He defected after the Communist takeover in 1948 vowing not to return until the country was liberated.  He conducted in Chicago for three rather tumultuous years in the 50s; he is best known for his tenure with the Bavarian Radio Symphony (1961-1979).  While he had retired from full-time conducting by 1985, an invitation to return to his now-free homeland to lead the festival he had founded could not be turned down.  His live recording of Smetana's Ma Vlast is incredible.

Even younger Adam and Ivan

Adam Fischer studied at the Bartok Conservatory and continued studies with Swarowsky in Vienna.  After many appearances throughout Europe and the USA (Chicago, Boston, the Mostly Mozart Festival of New York), he founded the Austrian-Hungarian Haydn Orchestra (which has recorded the complete symphonies of the master).  His recent resignation as Conductor of the Hungarian State Opera because of Victor Orban's repressive government, has brought worldwide attention to the political strife in this nation which has had so little stability in its history.

Ivan Fischer, Adam's younger brother, began his studies in Budapest but later moved on to Vienna where he also entered the sphere of Swarowsky as well as Nikolaus Harnoncourt.  While he has conducted worldwide, he is best known for his work founding the Budapest Festival Orchestra, which began as a part-time venture in 1983 (the ensemble became a permanent fixture in 1992).

But what is the underlying factor in the rise of so many significant conductors from what might appear at first glance to be an insignificant country?  Certainly the U.S. cannot boast a list of musical luminaries to equal this?  (Of course, much of this is due to our country's refusal to hire its own, but that has been the subject of previous posts.)  No, many of these great Hungarian conductors fled their homeland because of their religion:  the majority of them were/are Jewish and, of course, could not practice their art and craft during Hitler's annexation of their homeland.  The only choice was to flee and they joined the many important physicists to run from the madman's clutches.  The Fuhrer's decisions brought the makers of the atomic bomb to our shores, but also gave us a lasting cultural legacy.  Tiny Hungary is truly a land of inspiring conductors.

The best kind of review:

I probably conduct between 10 and 15 performances (of one kind or another) every year.  While not at the level of a Valery Gergiev (he numbers in the 100s) one still goes through a fair amount of repertoire at varying levels of difficulty based on the ability of the ensemble.  Of course nearly every performance receives wondrous accolades from audience members, colleagues, and even the musicians themselves (who are most often their own harshest critics). 

But just today, I received probably the most meaningful critique of a performance.  It come from a former teaching colleague who was born and raised in Bosnia:

"Speaking of...the summer performances "unter den linden" in that park - the name of which already escapes me - on the bluffs above Mississippi, it was one late afternoon in July of 2004 when I stopped by to listen, to meet and greet you. It  was a pleasant evening and I was feeling chipper in spite of the 210 or miles I just drove from Des Moines.  In Des Moines, in the state capital, earlier that afternoon, and surrounded by about 550 people from some 50 or 100 countries around the world, I was conferred citizenship of the United State of America; after 23 years of acrimony and fear, fear ranging from uncertainty  about where and what next year to fear of a knock on my shabby apartment door.  After 23 years of bitter fights, lost or unapplied and unapplyable jobs, a career derailed and pretty much lost, after a dissolution of 23 years of marriage, after a mid-size graveyard of lost dreams, I was a proud USA citizen. As I entered the park your orchestra intoned the first cords of the Star Spangled Banner - in an almost eerily perfect timing.  The tears that the music brought to my eyes were, I still think I remember, caused by so many diverse evocations and memories that for a moment I forgot whether I should feel happy or sad. In a moment's shrug I fogot about everything and determinedly walked toward the source of the music. It was a good moment in my little life, a moment filled with a wonderful lightness of just being."

The Star Spangled Banner.  The work with which I've opened many a concert.  The work that many a singer has butchered and many an audience have ignored.  A presentation of a national anthem should never be a performance.  Instead, it is a communal anthem to be sung by all with honor and reverence.  This is a lesson I learned today from a Bosnian.

Why not.....?

As stated in the New York Times, "Ireland has one; Sweden has one; even Iraq has one."  Thus, Carnegie Hall announced the formation of the National Youth Orchestra of the United States of America.  Funding (reported to be in the millions of dollars as there is no tuition or fees) will come from Joan and Sanford L. Weill (long associated with Carnegie), the Weill Family Foundation, the Rockefeller Foundation, and the Peter Jay Sharp Foundation.

The USA first had a national youth orchestra that was organized and auditioned by Leopold Stokowski in the 1940, but the group was disbanded following the nation's entry into World War II.  Thus, the time has really come for an ensemble made up of America's young musical elite, of which there are many.

The entire story can be found here.

But as my title would imply, what's the problem.  Well the first conductor of the National Youth Orchestra of the United States of America is Valery Gergiev.  I would never state that Maestro Gergiev's credentials are nearly pristine (and I'm not being xenophobic) but really, for the first go-around, couldn't we find a native-born son (or daughter)?  I know that I could come up with a plethora of nominations.

How much would you bet me that next year they pick the Dude?

Concertus Interruptus...

The iPhone

The classical music world (at least in New York City and chronicled in the UK) is in an uproar over an incident at Tuesday evening's NY Philharmonic performance of Mahler's Ninth Symphony.  It seems as though a patron failed to silence his iPhone alarm which continued to sound into the morendo of the work's closing measures.  The complete (more or less) story can be found here.


The story has seemed to have gone viral, evidenced by commentary from:

• Norman Lebrecht:  http://www.artsjournal.com/slippeddisc/2012/01/identified-the-man-whose-phone-went-off-during-mahlers-ninth.html
• Paul Pelkonen ("Superconductor" blog): http://www.artsjournal.com/slippeddisc/2012/01/identified-the-man-whose-phone-went-off-during-mahlers-ninth.html
• The blog "thousandfold echo": http://thousandfoldecho.com/2012/01/10/concertus-interruptus/

vs. Alan Gilbert

And believe me, many, MANY more.  It is as if someone has committed the most grievous sin against music.

One of my former students even posted a comment last evening on Facebook, "This is what happens when you mix idiots with technology and let them go to concerts..... I get unbelievably pissed off when a cell phone ruins a Northern Iowa Symphony Orchestra concert... but the New York Phil? Wow.  I feel as though there needs to be a national movement to teach people how to be respectful concertgoers."

My own commentary follows:

I have read about 45 minutes worth of commentary on this incident and, as much as I loath the beeps, burps, coughs and even crying babies (that's the worst) I think that we in the "classical" world need to get off our high horse. So many of these "conventions" (expectations of behavior) in the modern day concert are historically incorrect AND continue to turn people away from the music and ensembles that we all love. Remember that, back in Beethoven's day, symphonies were not performed straight through and applause was expected. Later in the Romantic period, applause still appeared within movements of a symphony and frequently--as in operas--complete movements were encored!

If we desire to keep (and God help us, maybe even increase) our audience, then we need to also worry about the comfort of the neophyte concert-goer. At a CSO concert, I recall a patron shouting "Bravo" following the first movement of a symphony. The guest conductor--I believe it may have been David Robertson, now of the St. Louis Symphony--did the classiest thing I've ever witnessed. He turned toward the patron and said "thank you." A great way to turn a potentially uncomfortable situation into a pleasant moment. I can only imagine how differently the principal conductor (Barenboim at the time) would have reacted.

At one commentator that I've read stated, "If you want a perfectly quiet performance, buy a recording and sit in your living room. As for me, I prefer (a house full of) living, breathing and only occasionally noisy people with whom I and my ensemble can share this music we love so well.  

So there is my two cents worth.  I am certain that I am in the minority.

Burying NY City Opera

As if the company--the "people's opera--were not in enough financial trouble--slicing the season to four shows and moving out of its home at Lincoln Center--the NY City Opera may have hastened its spiraling death march.  Actions from negotiators from management and union musicians has resulted in the former's decision to lock out members of the chorus (who were slated to begin rehearsals today.)  The orchestra is not scheduled to begin rehearsals until February 1.

It is seeming more and more ominous that each passing day introduces yet another tear in the fragile fabric holding together this once-great (truly) institution.  An extremely large number of today's superstars got their start at City Opera, which was also the company that took risks with underperformed masterworks as well as freshly-minted operas.

The complete story is found here.

Where's the new music?

I have written many times now about the dearth of contemporary music from American orchestras, large and small.  Zachary Woolfe weighed in yesterday in the NY Times, pointing a long deserved finger at the New York Philharmonic (see the entire article here).  This season the orchestra is offering eight works by living composers, only two of which are conducted by guests on the podium.

And yet, when questioned about the presentation of contemporary music, after announcing that he did not feel a responsibility to play music of our time, Music Director Alan Gilbert stated, “I do feel that we have a responsibility to play new music,” he added, “and I feel personally responsible to create an enthusiastic, energized atmosphere around the subject of composition. But I was also not being disingenuous. I don’t start out when I’m making programs thinking: ‘All right, let’s get a lot of contemporary music into the season. Let’s make sure we do a certain amount of music by American composers or New York composers.’ We’re not going for quotas or that kind of thing.”

In his response, Mr. Woolfe states, "But these “quotas” are straw men. No one advocates precise allotments of contemporary music. (Maybe people should.) All we want is an orchestra that is genuinely engaged in its city and culture. A sustained, all-out dedication to new music is a necessity to keep the Philharmonic from becoming an exercise in nostalgia. It should be the central part of the orchestra’s mission, but it is an area conspicuously underserved this season."

One must question whether or not another performance of Mahler's Resurrection Symphony is an appropriate choice to mark the tenth anniversary of the 9/11 disaster.  Would a commission been better?  I suppose it depends on the work, but surely it should have been considered.

For a long time, the San Francisco Symphony has engaged in numerous performances of the music of our time.  The LA Phil (under "The Dude") is also moving in that direction.  It seems unfortunate that significant performances of contemporary music are in large part limited to you western coast.  The remainder of our country deserves more and better...