Vargas and Coote shine in SF Opera's 'Werther'

By Eman Isadiar

SAN FRANCISCO -- In its second production of the season, San Francisco Opera presented one of the most beloved of international opera stars, Mexican tenor Ramón Vargas, in the title role of “Werther” by romantic French composer Jules Massenet. Mezzo-soprano Alice Coote sang the part of Charlotte with baritone Brian Mulligan in the role of Albert. Appearing as Charlotte's sister Sophie, newcomer Heidi Stober proved to be a solid pillar of this co-production with Lyric Opera of Chicago.

Ramón Vargas and Alice Coote co-star in SF Opera's new "Werther."
Photo: Cory Weaver

Massenet's music came across as strikingly romantic, complex and subtle as led by French guest conductor Emmanuel Villaume. The only plausible explanation for why Massenet never rose to the huge popularity enjoyed by his Italian contemporaries, is that his operas are largely based on story lines that may be qualified as dull by comparison. The creative genius of stage director Francisco Negrin, however, breathed new life into this “Werther” despite its tedious tale.

The story depicts the most banal love triangle imaginable, all three of whose sides are pathetically passive. Charlotte is engaged to Albert, whose friend Werther is obsessed with Charlotte, who is fully aware but does nothing about the whole situation. While Werther publicly denies his crush, he continues to stalk Charlotte, who is somehow flattered by her not-so-secret admirer, but proceeds to marry Albert anyway in order to keep a promise to her deceased mother.

Werther's obsession reaches pathological proportions. Charlotte soon realizes that she, too, loves Werther. After a brief declaration of mutual affection, the two consummate their love standing up against a tree. While any average man would be ecstatic to discover that his love is reciprocal, Werther instead proceeds to shoot himself and leaves Charlotte with a guilt-ridden conscience not only for having committed adultery, but for causing his death.

To add insult to injury, his dying wish is for Charlotte to drag his body a considerable distance and bury him since he cannot receive a proper church burial after having committed suicide.

The New York Times has described Ramón Vargas as a “creamy-voiced tenor.” However, Vargas's smooth tones and rich timbre in this “Werther” by far surpassed the realm of dairy. A voice of such purity and finesse deserves the creation of a new qualifier – perhaps “Ramónian” or, better yet, “Vargâsque.”

One of the unique characteristics of Vargas is that it is impossible to decide which is his most spellbinding scene or aria in any given opera. His deeply moving aria “Ô Nature, pleine de grâce” (“Oh Graceful Nature”) of Act 1, was matched – not outdone – by his heartbreaking “Pourquoi me réveiller” (“Why Awaken Me”) of Act 3.

Alice Coote was equally captivating as Charlotte and made a worthy partner to her illustrious co-star Vargas. Her perfectly nuanced rendition of “Va, laisse couler mes larmes” (“Go, Let My Tears Flow”) was one of the opera's most memorable moments. Coote's delicate voice delivered a certain verse of the aria which rang ominously true – “The tears we hold back can only fall inside.”

The stationary set consisted of three rows of trees in center stage, with partially metallic-looking trunks. A banner with the image of green leaves was suspended over the trees to indicate summer, later replaced with a banner of brown leaves for fall. The bare branches with no banner represented winter. Off to one side, a large pile of luggage, chests and boxes of different shapes and sizes (one containing a disassembled grand piano) doubled as a staircase from which characters would enter and exit the stage.

Opposite the mound of clutter, the stage was bordered with an L-shaped brushed aluminum partition, strangely resembling an airport luggage carousel. Just below the pile of boxes was Werther's bedroom in what looked like a dark basement. Costumes were consistent with Goethe's 18th century story, which Massenet used as the basis for the opera.

“Werther” is on stage at the War Memorial Opera House through October 1.

'Faust' opens San Francisco Opera's summer triple pack

By Eman Isadiar

Opera lovers, rejoice! San Francisco Opera's dry season which lasts from late November to early June is finally over with the opening of Gounod's Faust on June 5 at the War Memorial Opera House. The opera features Italian tenor Stefano Secco in the title role, Canadian bass-baritone John Relyea as Mephistophélès, and American soprano Patricia Racette as Marguerite.

John Relyea (Mephistophélès, center) surrounded by villagers and soldiers in SF Opera's Faust -- Photo by Cory Weaver

French composer Charles Gounod based the opera on the dramatic work by German writer and philosopher Johann von Goethe. The story's main character, Doctor Faust, is an aging scholar who is convinced that his life has been a total waste. On the brink of suicide, an incarnation of the devil named Mephistophélès appears and offers him a second chance at youth and love in exchange for eternal servitude in the afterlife. Faust accepts and is transformed into his past youthful self.

Caught in the middle of the unholy bargain is Marguerite, a young woman known for her purity and virtue. Her brother and only living relative, Valentin, conveniently ships off to war leaving her vulnerable to Faust's romantic overtures. She cannot resist him for long and becomes pregnant and subsequently a social outcast. Valentin returns from war only to find himself disgraced by Marguerite's shameful indiscretion. He attempts to avenge her honor by challenging Faust to a duel, but he is no match for the dark forces at work. Fatally wounded, Valentin curses his sister and dies.

In the final scene Marguerite is in a prison cell awaiting execution for killing her child. Faust magically appears and offers to help her escape, but she refuses. As morning breaks, Marguerite climbs the long and steep stone staircase to embrace both death and redemption. Faust has no choice but to fulfill his end of the contract.

Making his role debut, tenor Stefano Secco left a deep impression as Faust with his haunting love song“Demeure chaste et pure” (“Chaste and Pure Abode”), in which he blesses the walls of the home where his love resides.

Dramatic soprano Patricia Racette was as captivating as ever as the heartbroken and forlorn Marguerite. Her aria “Si belle en ce miroir” (“So Beautiful In This Mirror”) was one of the most uplifting moments of the opera. Racette's is a familiar voice on the War Memorial stage. Her stunning performance last fall in all three operas of Il trittico will be remembered for many seasons yet to come.

Bass-baritone John Relyea gave a powerful interpretation of the character of Mephistophélès. His role was the single most important dramatic pillar on which rested much of the premise of the story. His opening duet with Faust “Me voici” (“Here I Am”) got the opera off to an intense start. A particularly chilling Relyea moment was in Act 2 when Mephistophélès mockingly offered an apple to the statue of the Holy Virgin in the garden, in a subtle biblical reference mixing Old and New Testaments.

Baritone Brian Mulligan masterfully sang the role of Valentin. His dying aria “Ecoute-moi bien, Marguerite”(“Mark My Words, Marguerite”) was an emotional high point of this production. Soprano Daniela Mack brought much depth to the counter-gender part of Marguerite's young admirer, Siébel.

The orchestra provided a uniquely rich musical backdrop under the capable direction of guest conductor Maurizio Benini. San Francisco Opera's renowned chorus gave another solid performance as the villagers and soldiers led by chorus director Ian Robertson. Credit must also be given to stage directorJose Maria Condemi for the superb acting and overall dramatic cohesion.

A production of the Chicago Lyric Opera, Faust is presented by San Francisco Opera through July 1. The summer opera season also includes concurrent performances of Puccini's The Girl of the Golden Westand Wagner's Die Walküre.

---

Eman Isadiar is a San Francisco-based pianist and music journalist.

Patricia Racette Is the Beating Heart of 'Trittico'

By Eman Isadiar

One can only speculate why Puccini insisted that his three single-act operas always be presented together on the same program. Faithful to the composer’s wish, San Francisco Opera’s first production in 57 years of Il trittico (The Triptych) included all three works – Il tabarro, Suor Angelica and Gianni Schicchi. The orchestra was led by Patrick Summer, reputed Puccini scholar and music director of Houston Grand Opera.

In Il tabarro (The Cloak), Puccini evokes the intense mental anguish and guilt that are the fallout of marital infidelity. To the mix, he then adds an explosive measure of jealousy and a dash of grief for a dead child. Just when the spectators find themselves sitting in a hot, messy and volatile goo of raw human emotion, they get a shocking dose of murder.

Baritone Paolo Gavanelli inhabited perfectly the character of the aging husband, Michele. His aria “Perchè non m'ami più?” (“Why do you love me no more?”) was the heartbreaking cry of a desperate man, who, having lost his youth and his only child, now fears losing his only love.

Soprano Patricia Racette sings the part of Giorgetta in San Francisco Opera’s production of Il tabarro by Puccini (photo by Cory Weaver).

Celebrating her 20th anniversary with San Francisco Opera, soprano Patricia Racette appeared as the voluptuous Giorgetta opposite Brandon Jovanovich, who sang the part of Luigi. Their stage chemistry was intense.

A refreshing surprise came in the ragged, old character of Frugola – the wife of a drunken dock worker – sung by mezzo-soprano Catherine Cook in a brief but impressive appearance.

In sum, the opera’s idée fixe is the cloak, in whose folds Michele and Giorgetta once cuddled blissfully with their infant son, which later serves as the shroud around the corpse of Giorgetta’s lover, Luigi.

In the evening’s second opera, Suor Angelica, Patricia Racette’s voice accompanied the audience into the deepest, darkest and least visited recesses of their own psyche, to experience the bleak despair of a woman without hope and fallen from grace.

Angelica is a former member of Italian aristocracy, who brings public scorn to her family by having a child out of wedlock. So they take the child away and confine Angelica to a convent. After seven years of isolation, she is disinherited from the family fortune, and is told that her child is dead.

San Francisco Opera’s production of “Suor Angelica” is set in a 1950s-era children’s hospital (photo by Cory Weaver).

Upon hearing the news, Sister Angelica slips into a downward psychological spiral and hears the voice of her dead son inviting her to join him in heaven. She concocts and ingests a potent poison.

As painful death overtakes her, Sister Angelica remembers that suicide is a mortal sin, which fills her with deep remorse. She is, however, redeemed in a vision of her son accompanied by the Madonna. The humiliated dying nun draws her final breath in peace.

Polish contralto Ewa Podleś appeared as Angelica’s cruel aunt, the Princess, whose part she sang with a richly resonant vocal timbre.

The dimensions of Racette’s own voice were monumental, reaching from profound emotional depths to soaring dynamic peaks. While her delivery was technically flawless, it was the sincere agony of Racette's sound that made Angelica the most fragile and vulnerable creature on earth.

In the third and final opera of the set, Gianni Schicchi, Patricia Racette sang the evening’s most memorable tune and one of Puccini’s catchiest – “Il mio babbino caro” (“Oh Daddy Dearest”).

The audience burst into applause at the first sight of the bright, black and white set of Gianni Schicchi. While the detailed and realistic blue-tiled cantina of a 1950s children’s hospital was certainly impressive as the setting for Suor Angelica, it took a back seat to the eye-popping surreal décor of Gianni Schicchi.

The set of Il tabarro came in third with only two holes in the stage floor serving modestly as the barge cabin and engine room, and a stone wall backdrop vaguely resembling the banks of the Seine.

Gianni Schicchi is a character mentioned in passing in Dante’s Inferno, which takes on an entirely comical spin in Puccini’s creation. The opera is filled with smiles, chuckles and laughs from the opening bars through to the very end, and makes a delightfully sweet dessert to the three-course musical banquet of Il trittico.

Wealthy Buoso Donati is on his deathbed as his relatives mill about, anxious to know what each of them stands to inherit. Upon discovering Buoso's will, however, they are shocked to learn that the rich Florentine has left his entire estate to the local monastery. Moreover, they cannot force him to rewrite his will as he just happened to expire moments ago.

This is when a man named Gianni Schicchi enters and is greeted rather coolly. Schicchi’s daughter, Lauretta, is in love with Rinuccio of the Donati family and wishes to marry him, but the Donatis require a hefty dowry and consider themselves too good for a union with a family whose origins are unknown.

In order to endear himself to the Donatis for the sake of his daughter, Schicchi unveils his plan to impersonate the dead Buoso and write a new will in the presence of a notary. His proposition immediately meets with everyone’s favor as he promises each member of the family a significant portion of the estate.

When the notary arrives, Gianni Schicchi skillfully imitates the voice of Buoso Donati and orders a token amount be given to the monastery upon his death. He then distributes Donati’s various material possessions to the family. Finally, to the gasping shock of everyone present, he names himself – Gianni Schicchi – as the recipient of Donati’s prized ox and house.

With this surprising turn of events, Schicchi can now offer an acceptable dowry for his daughter’s marriage to Rinuccio. Being the lawful owner of the house, he then proceeds to order everyone out, knowing no one would dare oppose him as the new richest man in town.

A particularly humorous aspect of the opera was the wardrobe. Members of the Donati family were dressed unmistakably in typical Italian suits and hats of the early 1900s, almost as if they had just landed on Ellis Island. True to the image of the Italian-American matriarch, the heavy-set Donati women also proved to be adept at using their purses as weapons on their husbands.

Members of the San Francisco Opera Chorus portray the Donati family in a hilarious production of Puccini’s “Gianni Schicchi” (photo by Cory Weaver).

In a 180-degree turn from his somber role as the jealous, murderous Michele of Il tabarro, baritone Paolo Gavanelli returned to the stage, this time artfully hilarious as Gianni Schicchi. Mexican tenor David Lomelí, who received glowing reviews last summer as Alfredo Germont in La Traviata, made a befitting partner to Patricia Racette’s Lauretta as the love-stricken Rinuccio.

The show’s invisible stars were stage director James Robinson, who brought this New York City Opera production to San Francisco, and chorus master Ian Robertson, who directed the longshoremen of Il tabarro, the nuns of Suor Angelica and the loud-mouthed Donati family of Gianni Schicchi.

This Trittico will surely be remembered among the most uplifting productions of San Francisco Opera in the recent past, and possibly in many more seasons to come.

---

Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.

Mozart’s Most ‘Noted’ Opera

By Eman Isadiar

One of the world’s best-known opera reviews was given by Joseph II, Emperor of Austria, who, after seeing Mozart’s Abduction from the Seraglio, summed it up in three words – “Too many notes!” Clearly, he never saw the bold, new co-production of San Francisco Opera with Lyric Opera of Chicago, which is now on stage at the War Memorial Opera House through October 23.

San Francisco Opera presents Mozart’s Abduction from the Seraglio in a joint production with Lyric Opera of Chicago (photo by Cory Weaver).

The opera’s principal characters are two noblemen from opposite shores of the Mediterranean, namely Belmonte of Spain and Pasha Selim of Turkey, who are in love with the same woman, Constanze. Similarly, the noblemen’s butlers Pedrillo and Osmin vie for the love of Constanze’s chambermaid, Blonde.

Pedrillo, Blonde and Constanze are held captive by the Pasha in his harem estate, while Belmonte plots to win their freedom. Incognito, he enters the grounds of the palace and manages to find Pedrillo. Together, they drug Osmin and attempt to free the girls at the stroke of midnight, but their plan hits a snag and the four are captured in their attempted escape.

At this point, Belmonte introduces himself as a member of Spanish nobility and offers to buy the group’s freedom. This is where things go from bad to worse. Upon hearing his name, the Pasha realizes Belmonte is the son of his lifelong blood enemy, so he orders the captives executed in the morning.

As Belmonte and Constanze await their death, they reluctantly accept their fate and are resigned to being together in the afterlife. But the Pasha’s deep love for Constanze turns out to be sincere and exerts its influence upon his heart overnight. So, he frees the prisoners and lets bygones be bygones.

Osmin is in utter shock.

Soprano Mary Dunleavy sang the part of Constanze with the subtlety and grace of true Spanish aristocracy. Her aria of Act 1, “Ach ich liebte” (“Ah, I Once Loved”), in which Constanze sadly remembers Belmonte before her kidnapping, was delivered with elegant simplicity.

Soprano Mary Dunleavy sings the part of Constanze and stage actor Charles Shaw Robinson appears in the speaking role of Pasha Selim in San Francisco Opera’s Abduction from the Seraglio (photo by Cory Weaver).

Gifted Tenor Mathew Polenzani was captivating as Belmonte. An uplifting moment of the opera was Belmonte’s aria of Act 2, “Der Freude Tränen” (“Tears of Joy”), in which he rejoices after being reunited with Constanze.

With his boyish good looks, tenor Andrew Bidlack made an outstanding Pedrillo. In Act 3, the young Spaniard sings a serenade as a secret signal to Constanze and Blonde to prepare for the escape – “In Mohrenland gefangen” (“Captive in a Moorish Land”) – which Bidlack combined with just the right measure of charm and good acting.

Soprano Anna Christy was stunning in the role of Blonde. She sang some of the opera’s most demanding passages with effortless ease. Her aria of Act 2, “Durch Zärtlichkeit” (“With Tenderness”), where Blonde tells Osmin how to win a Western woman’s heart, was simply brilliant.

Judging by the decibel level of curtain call cheers, the audience definitely picked Christy as the show’s uncontested star.

With his powerful voice, British Bass Peter Rose brought much resonance to the character of Osmin, culminating in the aria “Ha, wie will ich triumphieren” (“Ah, How I Shall Triumph”), where he delights in the imminent execution of his rival, Pedrillo, after the failed escape.

Stage actor Charles Shaw Robinson gave a solid performance in the speaking role of Pasha Selim, and the chorus of Ottoman guards and concubines played a vital part under the skillful direction of Ian Robertson.

The production was designed by David Zinn and directed by Chas Rader-Shieber. Last and certainly not least, twenty-something Cornelius Meister of Germany conducted the orchestra with the musical expertise and insight of a seasoned maestro.

Too many notes or not, Mozart vindicates a fictional Turkish Pasha in a surprising eleventh-hour plot twist, while the real Emperor of Austria goes down in history – with perhaps a touch of operatic irony – for making the most pedestrian musical remark of all time.

One wonders what the attention-deficient Joseph II would say about Wagner’s epic The Ring Cycle, promised by San Francisco Opera in all of its 15-hour-plus glory in June 2011.

---

Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.

New Season Opens for Symphony and Opera

By Eman Isadiar

Much like the turning of the leaves or the migration of the pelicans, there is a certain September week that signals the yearly progression of life in San Francisco. Yet it marks more than the mere passage of time. It is a moment of civic pride, of joyful celebration, and of being dressed to the nines for two extravagant opening nights.

On September 9, music director Michael Tilson Thomas inaugurated San Francisco Symphony’s 98th season at Davies Symphony Hall–and his own 15th anniversary at the podium–with works by Liszt, Ravel and Rodgers, and Prokofiev’s monumental Third Piano Concerto with keyboard legend Lang Lang.

Across the street at the War Memorial Opera House, Nicola Luisotti led a cast of stars in Verdi’s Il Trovatore on September 11–this time not as the favored returning guest conductor from Italy, but as San Francisco Opera’s newest music director.

The Public Goes Ga-Ga for Lang Lang

Maestro Tilson Thomas opened the symphony’s program with a series of three waltzes, each boldly different from the rest in style and character.

Mephisto Waltz No. 1 by Hungarian composer Franz Liszt is a fleshed-out symphonic version of his better-known work for the piano. The title is apparently derived from the character of Mephistopheles, who is an incarnation of the devil in the legend of Faust.

Far from the title’s reference to the underworld, the waltz expresses man’s rather innocent longing for youth and vitality in a perpetual struggle with moral issues. This, the orchestra communicated in a thrilling performance with bursts of supersonic tempos and stunning technical brilliance.

Then came La valse – simply, “The Waltz” – by French composer Maurice Ravel. The work was originally conceived for dance, but was made into a stand-alone concert piece after a dispute between composer and choreographer.

Being exceptionally gifted at orchestration, Ravel creates sensual tonal textures that, while being uniquely his own, are also an unmistakable musical salute to the great master of the Viennese waltz, Johann Strauss.

If Liszt’s waltz speaks of valiant youth and vigor, Ravel’s speaks of princes, fairy-tale castles and chivalry.

The third and final waltz on the program – taken from the Broadway musical Carousel by American composer Richard Rodgers – speaks simply of tender affection.

One might find the harmonies of the opening bars by Rodgers surprisingly sophisticated for a Broadway production. A brief detour into polytonality hinted at the composer’s interest in the emerging musical trends of his time on both sides of the Pond, which made this piece a particularly intriguing specimen for the waltz sample three-pack.

The evening’s principal attraction, however, followed intermission, with Prokofiev’s Third Piano Concerto played by one of the most popular performers of our time, Lang Lang.

Pianist Lang Lang shines in San Francisco Symphony’s opening night concert on September 9, 2009 (photo courtesy of San Francisco Symphony).

Despite being billed primarily as a Chinese sensation, Lang was a student of Graffman at Philadelphia’s Curtis Institute, and could be equally considered a product of American training. At 27, he has played the great concert halls of the world many times over, and already demonstrates the rare sensitivity and skill of a veteran of the stage.

After years of polarized reviews, Lang Lang’s flawless execution has now aged into soulful art, right before our very eyes.

It was not the technical demands of Prokofiev’s concerto, but rather its unexpected romanticism that revealed the breadth of Lang’s interpretive canvas.

After endless applause and four returns to the stage, Lang Lang finally relented to an encore – Chopin’s Etude in A-flat, Op. 25, known as the “Aeolian Harp.”

If you think you’ve heard this piece before, think again!

To breathe new life into the single most commonly played Chopin Etude for over 160 years – now, THAT takes more than anything taught in a music school; American or Chinese.

So, who deserves credit for producing the world phenomenon that is Lang Lang? China and the U.S. may well have to fight this one out, too, along with the trade deficit and carbon emissions.

'Il Trovatore' Marks New Beginning for San Francisco Opera

Since San Francisco Opera’s public announcement of its new music director exactly two years and eight months ago, the enigmatic Nicola Luisotti has been the talk of the town as the man next in line to bear the mantle of his illustrious predecessors, the English Sir John Pritchard and the Scottish Donald Runnicles.

Nicola Luisotti conducts his first production as San Francisco Opera’s new music director (photo by Terrence McCarthy).

It is also a compliment to our city and to our opera that a European conductor of Luisotti’s stature should dismiss multiple offers, no doubt, from highly prestigious opera companies on the continent in favor of San Francisco.

Rivers of ink have flowed in Luisotti’s mention since he conducted last year’s production of La Bohème, and was featured as a guest conductor of the San Francisco Symphony in March. Naturally, this year’s season-opener with Verdi’s Il Trovatore was laden with excitement with perhaps a dash of skepticism.

Moments into the music, one could faintly hear a qualitative change in the orchestra’s sound. Whether a result of the new chemistry between conductor and orchestra, a side-effect of the slightly raised pit, or simply a musical placebo effect caused by the massive publicity in advance of Luisotti’s arrival – it is hard to know for sure.

Whatever the case, this is definitely a positive change.

The opera itself is a tragic tale of love, cruelty and murder, set to music by the master of Italian opera Giuseppe Verdi based on the work of Spanish playwright Antonio Gutierrez.

Sometime in fifteenth century Spain, Count Di Luna is convinced that his young son is ill from witchcraft, and orders a certain gypsy woman burnt at the stake in order to break the evil spell. The gypsy’s daughter named Azucena – herself the mother of a young boy – kidnaps the count’s son in a desperate attempt to trade his life for that of her mother, but arrives too late.

As the flames devour Azucena’s mother, she throws the count’s abducted son into the fire in a fit a vengeful wrath, only to realize in chilling horror, that she has instead burned her own son alive by mistake.

Azucena raises the count’s son as her dead boy Manrico, who grows into a handsome troubadour – trovatore in Italian – and whose sweet melodies capture the heart of a certain Leonora.

The count’s second son becomes the new Count Di Luna after his father’s death, and also falls in love with Leonora. Being a powerful and wealthy man – not to mention lethally jealous – the count manages to capture Manrico, whom he intends to kill over the woman they both love.

Leonora vows marriage to the count in exchange for Manrico’s life, but soon commits suicide to get out of the bargain. This enrages the count, so he hangs Manrico, upon which Azucena reveals to the count that he has killed, not a rival, but his own long-lost brother.

The story ends in a perfect example of operatic justice when the count pays the price for the long-ago death of a gypsy woman, and has to live out his days knowing he has killed his own flesh and blood, eerily sharing Azucena’s fate.

Verdi’s Il Trovatore opened San Francisco Opera’s 87th season on September 11, 2009 (photo by Robert Kusel).

American soprano Sondra Radvanovsky was ravishing as Leonora. Her perfectly controlled high notes in the aria “D’amor sull’ali rosee” (“On the Rosey Wings of Love”) of Act 4 – where Leonora sings of her concern for Manrico while pacing outside the prison – drew the evening’s loudest cheers.

Singing the troubadour’s part was Italian tenor Marco Berti, who did a fine job carrying the added burden of – not only being the leading tenor – but being a leading tenor who happens to be a singer in the story itself.

Berti’s aria “Ah, sì ben mio” (“Ah, My Beloved”), was one of the opera’s highlights, in which Manrico longs for death knowing that Leonora has agreed to marry the count.

Russian baritone Dmitri Hvorostovsky, who appears frequently in important roles with the San Francisco Opera, sang the part of Count di Luna with command and authority. First-timer mezzo soprano Stephanie Blythe, made a lasting impression in the complicated and disturbing character of Azucena.

Under chorus director Ian Robertson’s leadership, the band of gypsies, nuns, and ordinary fifteenth century Spaniards played a crucial part in the opera’s success.

Each scene was treated as though a delicately balanced painting, where the interplay of shadow and light filled open spaces, creating a kind of picture book to accompany the story.

David McVicar and Walter Sutcliffe co-directed the production with the finest of sets, costumes and choreography at their disposal.

Clearly, San Francisco Opera is charting its own artistic course through the rough waters of the world’s worst economic crisis ever. In contrast, this opening night was nothing but smooth sailing all around.

Of course, with Captain Luisotti now at the helm, San Francisco Opera may as well be the QE2.

---

Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.

'Summer Seduction' at San Francisco Opera

By Eman Isadiar

A mini-season of the San Francisco Opera dubbed Summer Seduction opened on June 2 with three hugely popular productions – Puccini’s Tosca, Gershwin’s Porgy and Bess and Verdi’s La Traviata This article covers the first two of the named operas. Summer Seduction will continue through July 5 at the War Memorial Opera House.

Pieczonka Shines as Tosca

Canadian opera star Adrianne Pieczonka gives a captivating performance as Tosca. Photo by Cory Weaver

The intensely emotional melodrama Tosca is forever linked with the history of San Francisco Opera as well as that of the city itself. It was conducted by San Francisco Opera founder Gaetano Merola in the company’s inaugural season in 1923, and also marked the opening of the company’s current home, the War Memorial Opera House, in 1932.

The November 1978 performance of Tosca featuring perhaps two of the greatest stars of opera of all time – Montserrat Caballé and Luciano Pavarotti – was attended by San Francisco Supervisor Harvey Milk the night before his assassination.

Based on a drama by Victorien Sardou, Tosca depicts the life of famous singer Floria Tosca as she makes a desperate attempt to save the life of her lover, Mario Cavaradossi, who awaits execution for the crime of harboring a fugitive. The all-powerful police chief Scarpia, however, agrees to stage the execution in order to give the semblance that justice has been carried out, but demands Tosca’s love in exchange for her Cavaradossi’s life.

Tosca appears to succumb to Scarpia’s advances after obtaining a written safe-passage permit from him, but fatally stabs him as he prepares to embrace her. She then quickly flees the scene and instructs Cavaradossi to pretend to die after the first shot has been fired at what she believes will be a mock execution.

But everything goes terribly wrong.

Scarpia had never intended to spare Cavaradossi’s life, and the fake execution plot was a lie so he could have his way with the singer. Now being pursued for having killed Scarpia, Tosca leaps off the wall of the castle moments after Cavaradossi’s execution, and falls to her death.

Canadian soprano Adrianne Pieczonka gave a poignant performance in the title role. She perhaps achieved her brightest moment in “Vissi d’arte, vissi d’amore” (“I Lived on Art, I Lived on Love”) in Act 2, where Tosca asks God why she is subjected to such cruelty when she has dedicated her life to her art and to piety.

Matching Pieczonka’s brilliant Tosca, Italian tenor Carlo Ventre demonstrated equally impressive skill and control as the voice of Cavaradossi. Ventre communicated remarkably sincere emotion as he sang the words “Non ho mai tanto amato la vita” (“Never Have I Loved Life So Much”) in Cavaradossi’s a heartbreaking love letter to Tosca before his execution.

Georgian bass-baritone Lado Ataneli was powerful and convincing as the story’s antagonist Scarpia. Thierry Bosquet’s elaborately detailed sets, Maestro Marco Armiliato’s rich rendition, and Jose Maria Condemi’s thoughtful direction made this Tosca into yet another production San Francisco will remember among its proudest operatic moments.

Bona Fide American Opera

Laquita Mitchell and Eric Owens appear in the title roles of San Francisco Opera’s Porgy and Bess. Photo by Terrence McCarthy

In Porgy and Bess, composer George Gershwin portrays an African American community in Charleston, South Carolina, living in squalor and poverty but managing to remain hopeful for a brighter future. Many of the composer’s most memorable tunes were written for this work, which many believe represents a renaissance of American music.

San Francisco Opera seems to have presented Porgy and Bess in ten-year intervals dating back to 1977, all but the latest being touring productions of the Houston Grand Opera. The new production directed by Francesca Zambello, however, departs from tradition by transplanting the story from its original setting of the 1930s to the 1950s.

Porgy is a disabled man with no hope of finding love because of his physical condition. Crown is a gambler, drinker and drug-user caught up in a reckless lifestyle with his girlfriend Bess. The local dope dealer is named Sportin Life, who personifies the devil himself.

The story is about the unlikely love that develops between Porgy and Bess, and inspires each of them to transcend the confines of their individual lives. Porgy must overcome his poor self-image as a cripple and prove himself a man, while Bess attempts to abandon “happy dust” (cocaine) alcohol and amorous adventures for a modest life with Porgy.

For a while, Porgy and Bess are deeply in love and live in bliss, but things go awry and the downward spiral begins. Bess falls back into cocaine use, leaves Porgy and follows Sportin Life to New York. However, he opera ends on an optimistic note when Porgy grabs his crutch and says he will limp all the way to New York in order to save Bess once again.

We are left with the belief that he succeeds and that love conquers all in the end.

Remarkably talented bass-baritone Eric Owens gave a solid performance as Porgy. The decibel level of the applause during curtain call made Owens the uncontested star of the show. Of course, the endearing quality written into Porgy’s character probably helped.

Appearing for the very first time as Bess, Laquita Michell made us believe she has sung the part for years. Her soul-stirring voice combined with her subtle acting skills made for a captivating performance.

The audience came for Porgy or for Bess, but left absolutely enchanted by Serena, whose part was brilliantly sung and acted by Karen Slack.

Chauncey Packer also deserves mention with his compelling portrayal of Sportin Life, as does conductor John DeMain, who brought much musical depth and expertise to the exciting rhythms of Gershwin.

---

Eman Isadiar teaches piano at the Peninsula Conservatory and writes about music in the San Francisco Bay Area.