Is Lars von Trier a Nazi?

Lars von Trier has been declared "persona non grata" at this year's Cannes Film Festival. During a press conference to promote his new film Melancholia, the Danish director made a number of off-topic remarks that included various odd references to Jews, the state of Israel, and Adolf Hitler. Here is the transcript of what he actually said:

“The only thing I can tell you is that I thought I was a Jew for a long time and was very happy being a Jew, then later on came [Danish, and Jewish, director] Susanne Bier, and suddenly I wasn’t so happy about being a Jew. That was a joke. Sorry. But it turned out that I was not a Jew. If I’d been a Jew, then I would be a second-wave Jew, a kind of a new-wave Jew, but anyway, I really wanted to be a Jew and then I found out that I was really a Nazi, because my family was German. Which also gave me some pleasure.

“So, I, what can I say? I understand Hitler. I think he did some wrong things — yes, absolutely — but I can see him sitting in his bunker in the end. I’m just saying that I think I understand the man. He’s not what you could call a good guy, but yeah, I understand much about him and I sympathize with him a little bit, yes. But come on, I’m not for the Second World War! And I’m not against Jews. No, not even Susanne Bier. That was also a joke. I am, of course, very much for Jews. No, not too much, because Israel is a pain in the ass. But still, how can I get out of this sentence? I just want to say I’m very much for Speer. Albert Speer, I liked. He was also, maybe, one of God’s best children. He had some talent that was kind of possible for him to use during, um… Okay, I’m a Nazi.”

Is Lars von Trier a Nazi? I sincerely doubt it. He enjoys being a provocateur, and he likes to exercise this devil-of-an-impish streak whenever he can. Unfortunately, he neither seems to lack any common sense, nor does he know when it is best to quit and stay silent. To add to the problem, lately he seems to be going through some kind of mid-life crisis that has made him stop drinking but which inexplicably has catapulted him into the realm of psychobabble whenever he faces the press. And then there is his new tattoo -- letters on his knuckles that spell the word FUCK (See picture above). Either a homage to Charles Laughton's The Night of the Hunter (where Robert Mitchum's character has the words LOVE and HATE tattooed on his knuckles) or another of Mr. von Trier's desperate attempts to get a visceral reaction from his audience.

The Cannes Film Festival has banned Lars von Trier because it is illegal in France to say or write anything anti-Semitic. This action strikes me as too sudden, too harsh. It feels very much like the actions of Inspector Javert in Les Misérables, misguidedly following the letter of the law, inflexible and harsh.

My opinion is that Lars von Trier, as an artist, was trying to tell the press, in his awkward, rambling way, that he has an artistic admiration for the work of various accomplished artists that rose to prominence under the Third Reich. Albert Speer is arguably one of the most famous, as well as infamous of the architects of the first half of the 20th century. His grandiose designs spell out National Socialism like no other. His "cathedral of light" design is perhaps the most famous and lasting of his monumental ideas. It was achieved by pointing 130 anti-aircraft searchlights into the night sky and thus causing the effect of columns whose capitals disappear into the night. Every year on September 11, two massive searchlights aimed at the New York night sky give the feeling that the World Trade Center towers are still standing. It is an idea very close to what Albert Speer first devised in the 1930s for the Nazi rallies. The documentary work of Leni Riefenstahl, (where she captured on film Speer's work) for example, is stunning in its execution, although its subject matter propagandizes the evil machinery that helped to create it. One is not a Nazi if one is impressed by Riefenstahl's work. Both Triumph of the Will and Olympia are stunning documentaries of the 1930s, beautifully photographed, stunning in their scope, and masterfully edited. They serve as vivid records for the nightmare that was brewing in Germany at that time.

When it comes to the works of Richard Wagner (whose music has been featured in some of von Trier's films) the debate has been going on for more than half a century as to how we should think of him as a composer. What are we to think of Wagner, whose works highly influenced and inspired Hitler and the formation of National Socialism? I think the answer is very clear. Even though Wagner was a rabid anti-Semite, we must separate the man from his twisted ideology and his evil disciples, and concentrate on his true genius which lies in his sublime music. We must do the same for Speer and Riefenstahl -- separate the artists from the ideology that bred them. No, I don't think you are a Nazi if you like Wagner, the very idea is preposterous. And, no, I don't think that Lars von Trier is a Nazi either, even though his own ill-chosen, rambling words condemn him. He is just a confused artist unable to accurately verbalize what's on his mind. I personally don't think he should give press interviews. There is no point to it. Watch his controversial, maddening, but memorable films. That's ultimately how history will judge him.

Die Walküre at the MET -- Been There, Done That

The title of this review does not refer to me having made the trip to Richard Wagner's Valhalla and having successfully returned, but rather it is a personal commentary on the on-going unveiling of the new Ring production at the Metropolitan Opera by director Robert Lepage and his associates from his production company Ex Machina. Unfortunately, they only seem to be interested in turning Wagner's great work into a well-oiled machine. On Friday they unveiled their new production of Die Walküre with some mixed results.

Back in the fall, they opened the 2010-2011 season with Das Rheingold, and opening night introduced us to the 24 movable planks that make up the set for the four-evening work. Rheingold proved to be a mixture of imaginative staging and magnificent projections featuring characters who often seemed to defy all laws of gravity. Still, despite some amazing stage magic, there were some kinks left in the machine, and opening night did not see the gods parade into Valhalla via a rainbow bridge that never materialized. Instead, the gods had to exit stage left through the wings. The conclusion of Rheingold brought a mixture of applause and boos, the latter mostly directed, I'm convinced, at Lepage and company.

Now it is Die Walküre's turn to be "machined." No sooner did James Levine (looking thin and frail) give the orchestra the opening downbeat, the machine started to move, showing us a snowstorm, then turning itself into a forest and then into a rather sparse, almost modernistic Hunding's hut. During Siegmund's monologue, shadowy projections illustrated his tale of woe -- a nice cinematic touch, but the truth of the matter is that Wagner's music illustrates the action rather well without the need for a magic lantern show. When Spring bursts into the room and Siegmund (Jonas Kaufmann in marvelous voice) sang his "Winterstürme" the lights turned green, the machine moved a little more (not too quietly) , and that's it! Anyone who wanted the set to perform wonders during this act could not help but yawn.

Then came Act II. That's when the audience finds out that this set is really dangerous. Bryn Terfel as Wotan stepped out into the planks of the set, the slope of which would make any ordinary mortal slide down. He managed to stay up there during the night, don't ask me how. Unfortunately Deborah Voigt was not as nimble: she took a tumble as she tried to step up to the planks right before her "Hojotohos." Luckily she managed to laugh it off and she got through the difficult musical passage without a problem. I am sure, she was shaken, though, and you could hear the audience gasp as she went down. I really don't see the need to put singing actors through this. Stephanie Blythe had it the best. As Fricka, the "goddess who must be obeyed" she never had to step into the planks. She sat in her regal throne, holding on for dear life as the platform where she sat slid down into place. Of course, let's just hope that the wires that hold her securely never break, otherwise we could very well have another Wagnerian incident like the one that happened a few years ago when Tristan barreled down, head first, into the prompter's box.

Act III offered an imaginative use of the machine for the "Ride of the Valkyries", but the effect verged on the kitschy as proven by the lusty reaction of the audience. I predict that every time they mount this production this celebrated portion of the score will cause some kind of inappropriate reaction. The opera finished with the most impressive use of the machine: an aerial shot of Brünnhilde as she sleeps among the flames. A nice effect, although it never quite takes your breath away.

The most wondrous aspect of the evening was the orchestra. Under Levine's direction they were a noble extension of his musical concept of this work. There was faultless playing throughout the evening, and memorable sounds coming from the bass and horn sections. Onstage, all of the singers, with the exception of Eva-Maria Westbroek (Sieglinde), who had to be replaced after Act II, sounded vocally secure. Mr Kaufmann is proving that he can become one of the great heldentenors of our times. Last summer at Bayreuth he wowed audiences in the title role of Lohengrin, and now his Siegmund is igniting the first two acts. Stephanie Blythe was simply amazing, arguably the strongest and the most interesting voice of the evening. Bryn Terfel's Wotan is a force of nature, the Welsh bass-baritone continues to transform himself into one of our best commanding Wagnerians. His hefty tones may not have the majesty of singers of the past, like George London or Hans Hotter, but his musicianship and his perfectly clear diction add a layer of nobility to his performance. Deborah Voigt impressed me with her first Brünnhilde, although I will argue that this may not be the role for her. Still, she had a very good night, and hopefully her voice will hold as the Ring cycle continues into next year.

Overall, I found the production lacking imagination, especially after whetting our appetite with the worlds created in Das Rheingold. True, Walküre is a more earth-bound story, but if you have a high-tech multi-million dollar gadget in front of you, it better perform some amazing out of this world tricks. Wagner did it with his music, I can't see why Lepage and company can't match it.

FRANKENSTEIN at the National Theatre

Last week I went to see Danny Boyle's production of Nick Dear's sold-out new play, Frankenstein, from the National Theatre in London -- as a matter of fact I went twice in one week, and I didn't even have to cross the Atlantic. The National Theatre continues to present HD broadcasts of some of their most popular presentations. They did it a couple of years ago for the first time when they presented Helen Mirren in Phèdre by Jean Racine, and they are doing it again with this riveting adaptation of Mary Shelley's groundbreaking novel.

It's the kind of theatrical experience that has buzz written all over it. First there is director Danny Boyle, returning to the stage after spending the last two decades making a name for himself in the movies with Trainspotting, and winning Hollywood Oscar gold with Slumdog Millionaire, and winning critical acclaim with last year's 127 Hours. Then there is the cast, in particular the actors playing Doctor Frankenstein and his creature creation. In a bit of casting genius the two actors, Benedict Cumberbatch and Johnny Lee Miller swap roles nightly. This is the kind of casting that makes theatergoers drool, and forces them to see the show more than once to savor how each actor approaches each character. This is what I did by attending two of the HD presentations, and I am convinced that this is the only way to fully appreciate this production.

Actor Benedict Cumbernatch, little known in America but a household name in the UK, is riding the wave of newly-found fame these days, and is clearly the chief drawing card for this production. He was the name on everybody's lips when the Doctor Who franchise went looking to replace the irreplaceable David Tennant as he finished his tenure as the Tenth Doctor. Cumberbatch's pale skin and chiseled David Bowie-like alien features would have made an ideal Eleventh Doctor. Instead, Cumberbatch remained near the Time Lord's orbit by being cast in the title role of Sherlock, a 21st century retelling of the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle master sleuth by Steven Moffat, Doctor Who's current head writer.

Playwright Nick Dear turns Mary Shelley's gothic story into a Samuel Beckett-like existential confrontation between creator and creation. Danny Boyle's cinematic staging wonderfully supports this adaptation, which also includes idiosyncratic background music reminiscent of his latest films. The scene when the two characters meet at the summit of a mountain and the creature berates his maker and demands that he build him a mate is alone worth the price of admission.

If you manage to see this production twice I am sure that one of the evenings will stand out in your mind more than the other. Personally, I enjoyed the show a lot more when Johnny Lee Miller played the Creature and Benedict Cumberbatch played Frankenstein. Why? Well, I enjoyed Miller's child-like creation over Cumberbatch's stroke victim monster. On the other hand, I marveled at Cumberbatch's Byronic, elegant and mysterious Frankenstein. Frankly, I did not care for Miller's huff and puff Frankenstein. On the other hand, watching Cumberbatch bring to life the Creature at the moment of his birth is one of the highlights of this theater season.

The bottom line is this: see the play twice, and watch two great actors at work!

Calixto Bieito's PARSIFAL in Stuttgart

Calixto Bieito's controversial 2010 staging of Richard Wagner's Parsifal is back at the Staatsoper in Stuttgart, Germany. This staging, by the notorious Spanish director, brings to mind Mel Gibson's apocalyptic Mad Max films, but it is actually inspired by another greater apocalyptic work: Cormac McCarthy's memorable novel The Road.

The remaining performances of this production at the Staatsoper this year are on March 26th, and April 3rd. Below is a short documentary which shows plenty of scenes from the production, as well as commentary from director Calixto Beito. It definitely gives you an idea of what this unique staging is all about.

And here is a nine minute video with extended scenes from this production:

Does anybody know if this production has been filmed for DVD and Blu-Ray release in Europe and/or America?

Tom Stoppard's ARCADIA back on Broadway

Ever since artist Nicolas Poussin painted his famous picture "Et in Arcadia Ego," which shows a group of pastoral shepherds (pardon the redundancy!) discovering a tomb with this inscription, scholars have argued about the meaning of this Latin text. So, whether you interpret it as "I, who am now dead, also lived once in Arcadia," or the more popular "I, Death, exist even in Arcadia," please do me a favor: before you die, make sure that once in your life you experience Tom Stoppard's masterful play Arcadia.

I've seen the play three times thus far. Twice in London, and once here in New York, last night, in its new Broadway revival that opened last week. My first encounter with Stoppard's play was during its initial West End run back in 1994. That landmark production, at the Theatre Royal, Haymarket, directed by Trevor Nunn and starring Joanne Pearce and the incomparable Roger Allam convinced many theatergoers that Stoppard might have written the crowning masterwork in a career that up to that time also included, among others Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, The Real Inspector Hound, and Travesties. In the summer of 2009 I was lucky enough to see Arcadia again, this time at the Duke of York's Theatre with a cast that featured Ed Stoppard, the playwright's son, in the role of Valentine. It is this production, directed by David Leveaux, with sets by Hildegard Bechtler that opened last Thursday at the Ethel Barrymore Theatre.

This current production, with its mixed cast of American and British performers turns out to be, as expected with this casting choice, a bit of a mixed evening. The English actors, among them Bel Powley (Thomasina Coverly) and Tom Riley (Septimus Hodge), and especially Lia Williams (Hannah Jarvis) perform Stoppard's language with the facility that can only come from those born and raised in Blighty. The American stars of this production, Raúl Esparza (Valentine Coverly) and Billy Crudup (Bernard Nightingale) struggle at times with their accents, although in all honesty, they do an admirable job overall maintaining the illusion of britishness.

Mr. Crudup's Bernard Nightingale is arguably the character that casts the longest shadow in this play. The other, of course is Lord Byron himself, a character who like Hamlet in Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead or Agamemnon in Richard Strauss's opera Elektra never appears. Bernard is an opportunistic don who dreams of striking it rich in the academic world unearthing a little-known episode of Byron's life. Basing himself mostly on speculation, and a few letters he's unearthed, the biographical details that he pieces together do not altogether complete the puzzle. The beauty of the play is that, as in the film Citizen Kane, we the audience end up finding out more about the true events of the past than the characters in the present will ever be able to decipher. Bernard needs that last impossible-to-find "Rosebud" piece that will complete his hypothetical puzzle.

But the play's the thing, and Arcadia remains as fresh and as fascinating today as when I first saw it. Along with its themes of Classicism versus Romanticism, the geometry of English gardens, Newtonian physics versus chaos theory, the lost years in the life of Lord Byron, and the publish-or-perish mentality of the college don, Arcadia celebrates the unquenchable thirst of man in its quest towards intellectual discovery.

QR Code Madness

For the past few months I have been spotting these strange diagrams, like the one to the left, everywhere, especially in posters in New York's subway system. These little squares often come with brief instructions to scan them with your smart phone in order to get information. Stuck with a Motorola RAZR until a few weeks ago these little squares really meant nothing to me. And then, on the day it debuted, I got myself a new Verizon iPhone, and in the course of playing with it and doing some research I found out that these little squares are called QR Codes (short for Quick Response). They were invented in Japan, and they fall under the category of matrix barcodes readable by scanners and camera phones.

Already on the web there are a handful of sites that will transform your website into a QR Code. What you see here is the QR Code of my Wagner Operas website. If you have an iPhone download the free app called "QRreader" and once it has downloaded and installed itself take a picture of the square above. Your iPhone will immediately take you to my Wagner Operas website. Amazing!

Now, is it just me, but look carefully: I think that if you stare at the QR code of my site, and you squint your eyes a bit, you start to see Richard Wagner's profile in the center of the diagram? Wait, nevermind, it's just a QR code not a Rorschach test. Enjoy playing with your smart phone!

The New La Traviata at the MET

Willy Decker's staging of La Traviata was the sold-out event in the summer of 2005 at the Salzburg Festival. That production, starring Rolando Villazón, Anna Netrebko, and Thomas Hampson has been immortalized in DVD and Blu-Ray disc for all time. Now, this same production arrives at the Metropolitan Opera, replacing the Franco Zeffirelli bombastic, huge, opulent staging that few critics liked, but that most audiences loved. When next they update the history of the MET, they will remember the Peter Gelb years as the time when the opera house finally grew up out of its Joseph Volpe artistic lethargy and re-joined the ranks of the great opera houses from across the pond; the time when the MET began to present avant-garde productions featuring contemporary stagings by many of the best European directors and designers. As a result, these days the intermission conversations at the MET seldom center around the performers, but neither are there deep discussions on the virtues of a given new staging. Everything is dismissed as Gelb bringing in Eurotrash! The Gelb years at the MET will always be remembered as the time when the MET might have hit a new pinnacle of artistic excellence and innovation, and the audiences do not care. The times might change, but it is interesting how MET audiences persist on remaining the same. This Saturday afternoon, during the single intermission (after Act One!) of this production, the snippets of conversation that I caught involved wanting Zeffirelli's production back coupled with the phrase "I'm a conservative."

In the Four Quartets poet T.S. Eliot writes "we had the experience but missed the meaning." Wake up people! There is a revolution going on at the Metropolitan Opera the likes of which this opera house has never seen, and it is passing you by because many of you are artistically asleep. Awaken!

Decker's production deconstructs Violetta's world, and in Act I turns it into a night journey of androgyny devoid of time period or setting. Looming above the action is a white bearded old man who in Act IV turns out to be Dr. Grenvil, but who in the opening acts moves about the set looking down at the characters and even directing the action like the stage manager right out of Thorton Wilder's Our Town. In one incredible sequence, he clears out the choristers from the stage by walking towards them while they back away from him and exit via the only way in and out of this set: double doors that shut tightly close like the prison that is Violetta's world. This character, oftentimes compared to an emissary laying down the rules of the force of destiny, reminds me physically of Giuseppe Verdi himself; as if Willy Decker invoked the approval of the composer himself in order to stage this work.

The sets by Wolfgang Gussmann owe much inspiration to the 1930's geometric sets of Adolphe Appia, and the New Bayreuth experiments of Wieland Wagner. As a matter of fact, the best set for an Act III of Tristan und Isolde I have ever seen is Act IV of this Traviata. The staging area now completely bare, Violetta dying on the floor while waiting for her beloved Alfredo to arrive, as Annina, Dr. Grenvil, and Giorgio Germont sit on a semi-circular bench hopelessly waiting the end. This is Tristan! Just change the names of the characters around!

Gussmann's costumes are also interesting. Throughout the production Decker plays with Violetta's red dress and red pumps. Oftentimes, when she wears them and, more importantly, when she sheds these clothes, the action is filled with hidden meaning. Also, when choreographer performer Athol Farmer, reprising his Salzburg performance, his face covered by a kitschy Spanish señorita mask, dons Violetta's dress and performs a Spanish dance meant to mock Alfredo, it is the pinnacle of an act where both female and male choristers gender-bend by wearing tuxedos, while they wear masks of the opposite sex.

I was pleased by the performances on Saturday afternoon. Marina Poplavskaya sang the role with strength and assurance. Blondes do seem to have more fun, it is said, but I wish that she would have donned a brunette wig for this production. Not that I want her to look more like Netrebko, it's just that a brunette Violetta is more in keeping with the overall basic colors of this production. Matthew Polenzani gave the best performance I have ever heard from this tenor. Andrzej Dobber was a stentorian Giorgio Germont, although I miss Thomas Hampson from the original Salzburg production.

The biggest issue that this production brings up is how long is the MET going to keep Decker's Traviata? This staging was to be one hot summer ticket in 2005, and then it was meant to be packed away never to be seen again (at least not in Salzburg). The MET has always been a house where productions have outlasted their welcome after twenty years. As Anthony Tommasini pointed out in his review in the New York Times:

"The question is whether the Decker “Traviata” is the kind of reconceived production that will last for seasons into the future. Perhaps the MET will become a house where productions are rotated more often, which would be an interesting departure, though an expensive one."

Let's hope this is the case.

Upcoming at the Metropolitan Opera

Here are some upcoming performances and productions that are rumored to be coming to The Metropolitan Opera. An asterisk means that it will be a house debut for the artist.

2011-2012

Anna Bolena [new production; Oct. 29, Jan. 23-Feb. 4] with Anna Netrebko/Angela Meade (Anna), Elina Garanca (Giovanna Seymour), Kate Lindsey (Smeton), Stephen Costello (Percy), Ildar Abdrazakov (Enrico/Henry VIII), c. Marco Armiliato, dir. David McVicar

Nabucco with Maria Guleghina/Marianne Cornetti (Abigaille) , Yonghoon Lee (Ismaele), Zeljko Lucic, Carlo Colombara

Il Barbiere di Siviglia with Javier Camarena*/Colin Lee, Mikhail Petrenko (Basilio)

Don Giovanni [new production] with Barbara Frittoli/Annette Dasch/Marina Rebeka*, Maija Kovalevska, Mojca Erdmann*/Isabel Leonard, Matthew Polenzani, Mariusz Kwiecien/Gerald Finley, Luca Pisaroni, Joshua Bloom, Stefan Kocan, c. James Levine/Edward Gardner, dir. Michael Grandage

Siegfried [new production] with Deborah Voigt/Katarina Dalayman, Ben Heppner, Bryn Terfel/Falk Struckmann, Eric Owens, c. James Levine, dir Robert Lepage

Satyagraha with Rachelle Durkin

Rodelinda (Nov) with Renee Fleming, Andreas Scholl, Iestyn Davies*, Kobie van Rensburg, c. Harry Bicket

Faust [new production] with Angela Gheorghiu/Marina Poplavskaya, Jonas Kaufmann/Piotr Beczala, Alexei Markov/George Petean, c. Yannick Nezet-Seguin, dir. Des McAnuff, des. Robert Brill [first seen at ENO]

Madama Butterfly with Robert Dean Smith?, Luca Salsi, Joel Sorensen as Goro

La Fille du Regiment with Nino Maichadze

Hansel and Gretel with Aleksandra Kurzak, Alice Coote

Enchanted Island [new production, original pastiche by Jeremy Sams, featuring music from Handel and Vivaldi] with Danielle de Niese (Ariel), Lisette Oropesa (Miranda), Joyce DiDonato (Sycorax), David Daniels (Prospero), Anthony Roth Costanzo* (Ferdinand), Placido Domingo (Neptune), Luca Pisaroni (Caliban), c. William Christie, dir./prod. Phelim McDermott/Julian Crouch, chor. Christopher Wheeldon?

Tosca with Roberto Alagna

Goetterdammerung [new production, Jan.] with Deborah Voigt/Katarina Dalayman, Waltraud Meier/Karen Cargill* (Waltraute), Ben Heppner, c. James Levine, dir Robert Lepage.

Ernani with Angela Meade, Salvatore Licitra, c. Marco Armiliato

Aida with Micaela Carosi, Stephanie Blythe, Lado Ataneli, Eric Owens (Ramfis), c. Fabio Luisi

Khovanshchina with Olga Borodina as Marfa, Vladimir Galouzine as Andrey, George Gagnidze as Shaklovity, Ildar Abdrazakov as Ivan, Rene Pape as Dosifei, John Easterlin as Scrivener

L’elisir d’amore with Diana Damrau, Juan Diego Florez, Mariusz Kwiecien, Alessandro Corbelli

Macbeth with Nadja Michael*, Gunther Groissbock, c. Gianandrea Noseda

Manon [new production, March] with Anna Netrebko, Piotr Beczala, Paulo Szot, c. Fabio Luisi, dir. Laurent Pelly in co-production with Covent Garden, La Scala, and Toulouse

Das Rheingold. With Stefan Margita (Loge), Iain Paterson (TBA). Full Ring Cycles to follow.

La Traviata with Natalie Dessay/Marina Rebeka

Die Walkure with Eva-Maria Westbroek

The Makropoulos Case (Apr-May) with Karita Mattila, Kurt Streit (Albert Gregor), David Kuebler (Vitek), Johan Reuter* (Prus), Tom Fox (Kolenaty)

Billy Budd with John Daszak* as Vere, Nathan Gunn, James Morris, Allan Glassman (Red Whiskers)

2012-2013

Eugene Onegin [new production] with Anna Netrebko, Matthew Polenzani, Mariusz Kwiecien, c. James Levine, dir. Deborah Warner

Un Ballo in Maschera [new production] with Karita Mattila, Kathleen Kim, Marcelo Alvarez, Dmitri Hvorostovsky, c. Fabio Luisi, dir. David Alden

The Tempest by Thomas Ades [Metropolitan Opera premiere] with Simon Keenlyside, dir. Robert Lepage, co-production with La Scala, who offers it in 2013-14

Il Barbiere di Siviglia [abridged Family Version, holidays], c. Yves Abel (uncertain whether it’s in rep with traditional performances)

Maria Stuarda [Metropolitan Opera premiere] with Joyce Di Donato as Maria, Elza van den Heever* as Elisabetta, c. Maurizio Benini, dir David McVicar.

Rigoletto [new production] with Diana Damrau/Lisette Oropesa/Aleksandra Kurzak, Piotr Beczala/Vittorio Grigolo, Zeljko Lucic/George Gagnidze, Stefan Kocan

Parsifal [new production] with Katarina Dalayman, Jonas Kaufmann, Peter Mattei, Rene Pape, dir. Francois Girard in co-production with Opera de Lyon

Giulio Cesare [Glyndebourne production, dir. David McVicar?] with Natalie Dessay, David Daniels, Rachid Ben Abdeslam* (Nireno)

Aida with Marco Berti, George Gagnidze, Stefan Kocan

Carmen (fall, then Feb-Mar) with Ekaterina Shcherbachenko*/Maija Kovalevska, Angela Gheorghiu?/Vesselina Kasarova, Yonghoon Lee, c. Michele Mariotti*

Le Comte Ory with Juan Diego Florez

Dialogues des Carmelites (Apr.-May) with Kristine Jepson (Mere Marie), Felicity Palmer (Mme. De Croissy)

Don Carlo (Jan-Mar) with Eric Halfvarson, c. Lorin Maazel?/Fabio Luisi

Francesca da Rimini (Mar) with Eva Maria Westbroek, Marcello Giordani, c. Yannick Nezet-Seguin

Norma with Sondra Radvanovsky, Kate Aldrich

Le Nozze di Figaro with Maija Kovalevska, Mojca Erdmann?, John Graham-Hall* (Basilio)

Otello with Krassimira Stoyanova, Jose Cura

Il Trovatore [fall] with Anja Harteros, Fabio Armiliato, Franco Vassallo, c. Daniele Callegari

Les Troyens with Susan Graham, Karen Cargill (Anna), Marcello Giordani

Turandot with Takesha Meshé Kizart (Liu), Marco Berti, c. Dan Ettinger

Complete Ring Cycles with Simon O’Neill (Siegmund)

2013-2014

Two Boys [commissioned work by Nico Muhly with libretto by Craig Lucas], dir. Bartlett Sher, co-production with English National Opera.

Falstaff [new production] with Lisette Oropesa, Stephanie Blythe, Franco Vassallo (Ford), dir. Jack O’Brien

Die Fledermaus [new production] with new dialogue by David Hirson

Prince Igor [new production] with Ildar Abdrazakov, dir. Dmitri Tcherniakov?

Werther [new production] with Elina Garanca, Jonas Kaufmann, dir. Richard Eyre?

I Puritani [new production, Apr] with Natalie Dessay, Juan Diego Florez, Mariusz Kwiecien, c. Michele Mariotti

La Fanciulla del West with Marcelo Alvarez

Die Frau ohne Schatten with Anne Schwanewilms* (Empress), Ildiko Komlosi (Nurse), Johan Reuter (Barak), c. Vladimir Jurowski

The Nose

La Rondine

Parsifal

Der Rosenkavalier with Mojca Erdman (Sophie)

La Sonnambula with Diana Damrau, Javier Camarena

2014-2015

Commissioned work by Osvaldo Golijov, libretto by Alberto Manguel, dir. Robert Lepage [subject matter relationship of science and religion]

Cavalleria Rusticana/Pagliacci [new production] with Marcelo Alvarez, c. Fabio Luisi

The Merry Widow [new production] with Renee Fleming, dir. Susan Stroman

In Memoriam -- Joan Sutherland (1926-2010)

She had the most beautiful voice. Arturo Toscanini said of Renata Tebaldi that hers was the voice of an angel. Of Joan Sutherland, who died in Switzerland yesterday at the age of 83, the Maestro would have no doubt placed her among the Seraphim -- the angels of the highest order whose name means fire. Hers was the second soprano voice I ever heard on records (the first was Tebaldi), and her voice, full of fiery ardor beneath that gorgeous tone, ignited in me a love of beautiful singing that I carry to this day.

I saw her a couple of times live at the Metropolitan Opera in the late 70's and 80's. Once as Gilda in Rigoletto and another time in her signature role, the title character in Lucia di Lammermoor. I missed her singing days in the 1960's when her voice was the purest. However there are the recordings. Sutherland arrived on the opera scene, and with her classical recordings reached a zenith of perfection. Her label was London Records, which always seem to have an edge on RCA and Angel when it came to impressive sound. For me Joan Sutherland was a voice I came to know and appreciate as it was captured in the recording studio.

Her recording of Rigoletto was one of the first opera albums I ever owned, and one of the definitive recordings of that score. Along with the young Luciano Pavarotti and Sherrill Milnes in the title role, this album is one of the classics in that golden age of opera studio recording. Alongside Pavarotti, she recorded opera's basic repertory (and then some) in one classic album after another, nearly all, conducted by her husband Richard Bonynge. In Giacomo Puccini's Turandot, a recording which also featured Luciano as Calaf, and which was led by Zubin Mehta, she tackled the title role of the icy empress, abandoning bel canto and entering into a realm which at that time was dominated by Birgit Nilsson. Quite often, critics, when mentioning the strength of Sutherland's voice, would comment that she would have made a great Wagnerian. And she did: as the Forest Bird in John Culshaw's titanic recording of Richard Wagner's Siegfried conducted by Sir Georg Solti.

She certainly had her critics. They mostly complained of her acting, and of the fact that her Italian and overall diction left something to be desired. They were right. It was often hard to understand the words that she sang. I remember one of the many Live from Lincoln Center programs where she performed the aria "I Dreamt I Dwelt in Marble Halls" from the operetta The Bohemian Girl by Michale William Balfe, and wondering what language she was singing in. Still, the beauty of her tone more than made up for it.

Let's listen to Joan Sutherland's beautiful voice once more. The following video is from the Sydney Opera House where Sutherland had her first early triumphs. Here she is in the opera Norma singing "Casta Diva," once again conducted by Maestro Bonynge. I can't think of a better way to remember Joan Sutherland than by listening to her in one of her signature roles.

Dudamel and the Vienna Philharmonic

The Vienna Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall is always a hot ticket in New York, especially when they are led by Gustavo Dudamel, the young music director of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and the Simón Bolívar Youth Orchestra of Venezuela. Maestro Dudamel chose an eclectic program with music that ranged from Europe to the Americas, and included works by Gioachino Rossini, Leonard Bernstein, Julián Obrón, and Maurice Ravel.

The program began with Rossini's overture to La Gazza Ladra. This well-known piece from this obscure opera never fails to please, and Dudamel brought out exquisite playing from the orchestra. It's wonderful how Dudamel managed to bring out a warm Italianate sound from the orchestra, and it shows the incredible flexibility of this world-famous ensemble. The next piece, Tres versiones sinfónicas by Spanish-Cuban composer Julián Obrón -- a pupil of Aaron Copland, mixes harmonies reminiscent of the American composer with the Afro-Cuban rhythms of Obrón's adopted homeland (he was born in Spain and became a Cuban citizen). Obrón is pretty much a minor figure in 20th century music, and largely unknown in the United States. Whereas thumbnail pictures of the composers were included in the Carnegie Hall playbill, Obrón's likeness was curiously absent. Despite the relative obscurity of many Hispanic classical composers and their music, Dudamel has always been a champion of the composers of the continent of his birth, and his passionate reading of Obrón's rhythmic score had him doing some fancy angular movements on the podium, and oftentimes leaping in the air. He also chose to have key players of the orchestra stand while playing selected passages of the score. This directorial decision has become a Dudamel trademark.

Leonard Bernstein's Divertimento for Orchestra opened the second half of the program. It is a curious piece made up of miniature movements ranging from Latin dances to a Turkey Trot and finishing with a rousing but dissonant march reminiscent of Charles Ives. The piece, which was commissioned in 1980 for the 100th anniversary of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, is one of the composer's late works, and it feels as if Lenny dug into his trunk and found up a few musical ideas that he weaved together for this composition.

The evening ended with two pieces of Maurice Ravel. The short elegy for a dead child, Pavane pour une infante défunte, is a tender composition whose enigmatic title is a companion piece to the composer's other homage to Spanish culture Alborada del Gracioso. The melodic score allowed Dudamel to shape the long phrases with a delicate hand, and the orchestra responded by playing it so sumptuously that it easily turned out to be the highlight of the evening. Bolero, which ended the printed program, began so quietly that you had to bend an ear to hear the opening bars. Before long, it carefully build to a thunderous climax. It was exciting to witness the violin players of the Vienna Philharmonic digging into their instruments with such wild abandon and musical precision at the same time. This is the kind of sound that few orchestras are able to produce successfully.

The audience greeted the program with a rousing standing ovation, and Dudamel took his bows standing in the midst of the orchestra, his customary spot during curtain calls. It's not that he's shy; he clearly enjoys the limelight that his talents have brought him, but this is an artist with a humble streak that always wants to remind us that despite his superstar status he is only a musician, just like the rest of the players on stage. But what a musician, and what an orchestra he led tonight! The kind of concert where everyone -- including the performers -- left the hall wearing a smile.

Das Rheingold opens MET Opera Season

It's a well-known fact that mounting a new production of an opera these days requires a special "vision" from the stage director. It isn't enough anymore just to stage an opera, the work must be dissected, re-invented, and somehow made "new" to audiences that demand a new take on an old warhorse. Needless to say, the less the director follows the stage directions and intentions of the original librettist and composer the better. Richard Wagner's stage works are perfectly suited for this directorial experimentation; and so we have had productions of Parsifal where the Holy Grail has inexplicably morphed into anything from an apocalyptic glow from a nuclear blast to a decomposing giant rabbit in Equatorial Africa. This summer at the Bayreuth Festival the guests at Lohengrin and Elsa's wedding were a chorus of giant rats, and a shower of sneakers rained down from the rafters during the finale of Act II of Die Meistersinger. These days, everything is fair game: the weirder the better.

The Metropolitan Opera made a big deal when it decided to retire the old Otto Schenk production of the Ring and replace it with a new staging by Robert Lepage. The old production went out with a sold-out bang, and everybody waved goodbye to possibly the last "old-fashioned" realistic setting of the Ring left in the world. Weeks later, during a dinner hosted by the Metropolitan Opera Club, of which I am a member, Peter Gelb assured those of us gathered there that the new production would be set in "a mythological world." He had to reassure us of that. American audiences, by and large, are essentially conservative ones, and they are somewhat skeptical of "Eurotrash" stagings.

The poster that appeared all over town a few months later, advertising the new production is worth noting. It shows Wotan (sung by Bryn Terfel) wearing a breastplate and a wig with long locks of dark hair draped over his missing eye. In his right hand he carries a spear which is filled with ancient runes. In other words, in this getup Mr. Terfel can board Dr. Who's TARDIS and be transported back in time, and easily step into a production at the old MET circa 1902. By the looks of the poster you would think that the MET had replaced the Schenk production with an even more traditional one.

Not so! The Met opened the new season on Monday with Mr. Lapage's first opera in the Ring cycle, Das Rheingold. It is certainly set in a mythological world all right, I just don't know which particular mythic realm he picked (although the director claims that the myths of Iceland have influenced him the most). The mammoth set for Rheingold and for the rest of the Ring is a wall that consists of twenty-four planks constructed between two towers. These planks can be configured in a number of ways in order to produce different settings. Also, on their plain surfaces, projections as well as interactive video that reacts to movements and sound (as in Mr. Lapage's 2008 MET production of La Damnation de Faust -- clearly a dress rehearsal for this Ring) can be projected.

This monstrous contraption (the MET had to reinforced its stage this summer) allows for some beautiful stage pictures as well as some very clumsy staging. The first scene features the Rhinemaidens swimming about underwater with bubbles rising to the surface. Then we see them lounging by the banks of the river, their mermaid tails moving the projected pebbles by the river banks. A beautiful and unforgettable effect. Later on, Wotan and Loge's journey to Nibelheim is presented as an aerial view as the two seem to be descending a giant staircase designed by M.C. Escher. The staging of the second scene, on the other hand, proved to be more complicated. The giants Fasolt and Fafner are isolated, standing on their own platform above the gods with nowhere to move, and unable to interact physically with anyone else on the stage. The gods Freia, Froh and Donner enter the scene by sliding down one of the walls as if Valhalla was some kind of immortal playground. Further, when in the last scene Fafner kills his brother Fasolt, the body of the slain giant slides down the wall like the disposal of human garbage. It looked like a scene from Sweeney Todd. This awful bit of staging drew a loud amount of laughter from the audience.

The fairest criticism that one can have of this production is that it is largely unimaginative. The last scene presents us with a small rainbow bridge and rainbow colored lights upstage. However, the gods exit into the wings rather than take the ride up to Valhalla via the rainbow bridge -- why? My understanding is that the wall did not work as it was supposed to. A pity, it definitely left you wanting more, that's for sure, especially at Opening Night prices. After all the years of planning and months of building can't they get these things to work?

Musically, the evening went a lot better. James Levine is back on the podium, looking frail and thin after this summer's 10 hour spine operation. His body may be weak, but his musical talents remain as prodigious as ever. He led a well paced performance which rarely overpowered the singers. The orchestra played beautifully throughout the evening, even inspired at times. Towards the end of the evening, however, there was some unevenness in the brass section.

In his first MET Wotan, Bryn Terfel did not disappoint, although he started the evening a bit shaky and a little gravelly, perhaps trying to save his voice for the long one-act evening. Good performances were also given by Dwayne Croft as Donner and Adam Diegel as Froh. Eric Owens provided the richest, most consistent singing among the men. As Alberich, who renounces love for wealth and power, Mr. Owens gave us a twisted, complex creature with a rich sonorous bass to match. As Freia, Wendy Bryn Harmer sounded strong and sure of herself vocally, easily the best performance from among the women.

I am not one of those who will petition the MET to bring back the Otto Schenk production, which I always thought to be too realistic and mad for details. The years pass, tastes change, and audiences must advance forward with the times. If I am nostalgic for anything, it is for the Wieland Wagner inspired Herbert von Karajan older MET production, with the rocky cliffs and the ever-present darkness and gloom. I have to admit: I loved that Ring!

One quarter of the tetralogy is down and we await to see what this production team will do with the next installment later on in the season. Let's hope that the wall is in working order and that it is used in more imaginative ways in Die Walküre.

The Social Network opens the 48th N.Y. Film Festival

All the buzz you've heard is true. The Social Network, director David Fincher's highly entertaining new film chronicling the genesis of Facebook is a first rate biopic of the rise and rise of Mark Zuckerberg, the Ivy League undergraduate creator of that Internet blue-logo social site that, for better or for worse, has most of the world in its virtual grip. With a first-rate script by Aaron Sorkin that fires with both cylinders, with rapid-pace dialogue reminiscent of His Girl Friday, the story takes us from Facebook's humble beginnings in Harvard Yard, and sweeps us along towards a morality tale conclusion where ultimate redemption might just be a click of the refresh button away.

We first meet Mark Zuckerberg, wonderfully played by Jesse Eisenberg, at a Harvard student watering hole where his relation with his girlfriend (the underused Rooney Mara) is rapidly heading for the rocks. Mark is a genius at embracing algorithms, but an utter failure at courtship. His revenge for being dumped starts a chain reaction that knocks down the university computer network, puts him on academic probation, and brings him to the attention of a pair of buttoned-down blue blood twins (both played by Armie Hammer) who lure Mark into building for them a website for elite WASPs. In a wonderful scene Mark is invited to the outer foyer of Porcellian, the elite "final club" to which the twins belong, and present him with their their offer. Mark runs with the idea, and the prototype of Facebook is born, while the brothers are left out of the picture.

Jesse Eisenberg plays Mark as if he suffers from Asperger syndrome. It is a brilliant performance built on a shaky foundation of fits and starts. Sometimes the character seems to know it all (he walks out of an advanced computer class being the only student in the room who knows the answer to an intricate question that the professor has posed), and at other times his face morphs into an eerie mask where his eyes are all but dead. It is a superb performance of a person unable to relate to others who, ironically, is destined to build the website whose mission statement is the unification and connection of us all.

If Mark is the brains behind Facebook, then Eduardo Saverin is its heart. Mark's best friend, played by Andrew Garfield in a breakthrough performance, is a great foil, and one of the best examples of good guys finishing last. There is a jittery quality to Mr. Eisenberg that is beautifully complemented by Mr. Garfield's grounded performance. He is a noble character for whom we feel compassion, especially when the tide of events turn against him.

Facebook might have had the kernel of its invention in the East, but it does not take off until the operation moves out West, and this move was largely influenced by Sean Parker, the creator of the defunct music-sharing site Napster, here played with great flair by Justin Timberlake. The introduction of Parker's character halfway through the film injects the narrative with a shot of adrenaline and directs the film to another plane. We move from the halls of Academia (beautifully shot digitally on "the Red" by Jeff Cronenweth) to sunny suburban houses with pools and trendy sushi restaurants shot with a palette of bright colors that contrast with the autumnal hues of the first part of the film.

Here lies the genius of David Fincher. He is able to juggle the many worlds of this movie with great accomplishment. Not a stranger to unknown worlds (as he proved with his first film, Aliens 3, and later on in the rain-soaked unnamed city of Se7en), he is comfortable in the binary world of computer geeks as well as in the elite world of privilege. He knows how to show the beauty of modern liquid crystal displays, and then turn around and convincingly lead us through a regatta in England where wealth, royalty, and old money mingle. Very few directors nowadays can perform this feat so convincingly.

In many ways, it is a film about the clash of the old and the new. But the success of the film lies not in the fact that it deals with the latest flavor-of-the-month Internet accomplishment. That is only its outer veneer. According to screenwriter Aaron Sorkin, the film has little to do with the Internet and everything to do with themes as old as storytelling itself. As he mentioned at the press screening of the film, The Social Network is about "friendship and loyalty, class, jealousy, and power: things that Aeschylus, Shakespeare, and Paddy Chayefsky would write about." It is for this reason that this very up to date film about our age seems as ageless as tragedy and comedy, the poles of Western art that this work inhabits and balances so deliciously.

Christoph Schlingensief is Dead

It's so difficult to believe that Christoph Schlingensief (1960-2010) is dead. Barely a few weeks ago his name was on my lips as I was putting the finishing touches on my podcast about the new Hans Neuensfels production of Lohengrin at Bayreuth. In 2004 Schlingensief directed an extremely controversial production of Parsifal at The Green Hill, and the current Lohengrin is drawing the kind of loud boos that greeted Schlingensief's work six years ago.

You would not be reading this article had there not been a 2004 Schlingensief production of Parsifal at Bayreuth. The critical outrage, and the overall sheer chutzpa of that production fueled my imagination, and was largely the inspiration for wagneroperas.com and its companion: this, oftentimes, irregular blog.

Of the many hats that he wore in his brief life, Schlingensief excelled at being a provocateur. To fully understand his art, oftentimes complicated by the politics from which it arose, you have to be German, or at the very least you must have your finger on the pulse of current German politics and history. He often ridiculed Helmut Kohl, leader of the Christian Democratic Union, and often his work was filled with references to Germany's Nazi legacy. His play, Kühnen 94, Bring Me the Head of Adolf Hitler, its title referring to the neo-Nazi leader Michael Kühnen, as well as Sam Peckinpah's 1974 film Bring Me the Head of Alfredo Garcia, was a controversial examination of German history that drew inspiration from popular history and Hollywood pulp films.

The iconography of his Parsifal at Bayreuth (see above) drew from many themes, inspirations, and styles. Setting the work in what appeared to be the African continent drew angry responses from the crowd year after year that the production was presented. It even drew one angry Spaniard to yell "To Jail!" at the conclusion of one of the acts. Anger overflowed backstage to the cast. Tenor Endrik Wottrich refused to sing in the production after the first year, and did not honor his contract after he and Schlingensief fought bitterly and called each other names that ranged from "Racist" to "Fascist."

Often, critics who understood his penchant for provoking masses accused him of not having a true visual style. His "Voodoo Parsifal," as the Bayreuth production was nicknamed, drew inspiration from the controversial film Our Hitler by director Hans-Jürgen Syberberg, one of the most radical filmmakers from the New German Cinema of the 1970s. The truth of the matter is that Schlingensief was influenced by everything that touched him, and he wanted to put everything in the pot and stir it up, always curious to see what came out.

It is this sense of exploration and curiosity, coupled with a need to shock and disturb that Christoph Schlingensief brought to Bayreuth when he was invited to come up with a new Parsifal. Now that he is gone, his creativity and determination will be greatly missed.

David Fincher at the New York Film Festival

The Film Society of Lincoln Center has announced that it will kick off its 48th annual New York Film Festival with The Social Network, the new film by director David Fincher. The new film, written by Aaron Sorkin, stars Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield and Justin Timberlake.

David Fincher broke on the scene with the dark, apocalyptic Alien 3, perhaps the darkest and most personal of the first "Alien" films. In 1995 he released the mega-hit thriller Se7en, starring Brad Pitt and Morgan Freeman. He followed this film with a score of triumphs, all bearing the stamp of a genuine American auteur. Fight Club, Zodiac, and the recent The Curious Case of Benjamin Button have become instant classics, and have transformed Mr. Fincher into one of the genuine visionaries in American cinema today.

Currently, Mr. Fincher is in pre-production on The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, based on the Stieg Larsson novel. This film is slated for Christmas 2011 release.

The Social Network opens at the New York Film Festival on Friday, September 24th 2010. It is due for release by Sony Picture Classics on October 1st.

PARSIFAL Ad

I recently found out that one of my favorite productions of Parsifal, Nikolaus Lehnnhoff's post-apocalyptic setting of Wagner's last work at the Baden-Baden Festspielhaus was advertised with the above poster. The conductor for this production was the American Kent Nagano, who is of Japanese extraction. I was really shocked that the management of the Festspielhaus would stoop down to this kind of opportunistic attention-grabber tactic.

The ad bears the logo of the Baden-Baden Festspielhaus, and reads "Kent Nagano conducts Wagner." Although I don't believe their intention was to offend, but rather to produce amusement, the image is still disturbing, and the fact that it was developed to cause amusement in the first place betrays much of its problematic nature. It shows a photo-shopped image of the composer manually slanting his eyes in order to make himself look "more Asian." This obviously alludes to a racist European custom of trying to mimic Asian facial characteristics by doing this. The ad comments on Kent Nagano's Japanese-American ethnicity while at the same time it indirectly reminds us of Richard Wagner's own prejudicial view of the world.

Under the surface of the visual "joke" the ad touches a deeper vein. It recalls the fact that when Parsifal premiered at Bayreuth in 1882 Wagner asked conductor Hermann Levi to submit to Christian baptism in order to be purified of his "Jewishness" so he could be worthy to conduct this Christian work. The ad touches upon German (Christian) supremacy, perhaps announcing that someone of Japanese extraction conducting Wagner's most holy work is not only somehow preposterously humorous, but that it soils the true "German-ness" of the work (these were Wagner's own fears of having a Jewish conductor lead the opera's premiere). As a result the composer's most famous portrait has now metamorphosed into a grotesque mask, itself already having been "soiled."

Needless to say this is the kind of ad that clearly nobody would dare to show in the United States, England or in many other European countries. The fact that it won advertising awards in Berlin, and that nobody protested or even batted an eye when it came out speaks volumes about questions of sensitivity in Baden-Baden and the rest of Germany. On the other hand, we have to ask ourselves if our society has become way too tender to questions of race that we are in danger of completely losing our sense of humor, which I believe was the point of departure for this ad. Of course, humor directed at minorities is no humor at all.

The only question that remains in my mind is what did Kent Nagano himself think of the ad?