Besides Verdi brilliant score, the voices sing with passionate emotions. Tenor Marcello Giordani commands the stage and soars to the heavens while Sondra Radvanovsky – a Chicago native- raises to the demanding role of Aida. She triumphs in her first time as Aida at the Lyric Opera of Chicago. The audience cheered her performance! Jill Grove’s mezzo effectively demonstrated Amneris’ heartache and Gordon Hwkins strong baritone rules his scenes.
For those of us either unfamiliar or who hold only cursory knowledge of the opera, it’s sort of Mozart’s musical comedy. Overall it’s quite light and the morality of it is somewhat ham-handed, if classic: typical Sun vs. Moon, Light vs. Dark, Wisdom vs. Ignorance sort of stuff. Maybe (though not necessarily) some references to Free Masonry in there.
My feelings about this play are fairly well-documented. To put it succinctly: I’m not a huge fan of the material. That said, this production was far more endearing – and overall successful – than the previous Broadway in Chicago venture. They made the material work better for them than their touring counterparts. And to a surprising degree. This troupe really found the comic moments between the words; they had great timing and used space very well.
The story of Ariadne mirrors the theme of the overall play: namely, that when comedy is set side-by-side with tragedy, it will win; if Mozart were to face Wagner, Mozart would triumph simply by default; and Dionysus will prevail. Strauss surely had the Apollonian and Dionysian dichotomy in mind when he wrote this piece – after all, he is the composer of Also Sprach Zarathustra – and it shows. There is such interplay between comedy and tragedy – two sides of the same Dionysian coin – and between Apollonian form and structure and Dionysian chaos.
She walked onto the stage swathed in sheer black, with matching black drapes hanging from the rafters, drifting through the smoke and light like a raven: cunning, cocksure, alluring. Immediately the deep thundering of bass toms filled the room, as if Glasvegas were playing a rave in Detroit. The sound of electric organ floated through the air and an acoustic guitar brought an earthiness that grounded the otherwise largely electronic aesthetic. Then Lykke Li opened her mouth and it sounded as if Fiona Apple met Joan of Arc on the stake.
Modest Mussorgky’s only completed opera is not for the faint of heart; it is not for those who like the Italians and nothing else, the lyrical, the symphonic, the easy ones. Boris Godunov is a difficult piece, at once crass and deep, with, on the one hand, somewhat technically amateurish composition, and, on the other, incredible insight into not only how to musically convey the moods of the characters but how to convey the chaos and horror around them.
Eye Inside is a blatantly great concept. It’s – okay, it kind of sounds chintzy at first glance – it’s about an evil agent who takes uniformly good-spirited and magnanimous actors and turns them into fame-whores and coke-fiends. He is a corrupter of the pure. But, honestly, making a rock opera out of the subject – and I’m selling it short, it’s far trippier than that sound-bite summation – well, it just makes sense.
The famous sextet when Edgardo crashes the wedding between Lucia and Arturo, Chi mi frena in tal momento?, is rich with countermelody and contrappunto, the polyphony not just musical but emotional, with six people expressing themselves deeply and strikingly. When Lucia loses her mind, Il dolce suono…Ardon gli incensi is an absolutely astounding representation of madness in music. Pardon the plebeian expression, but it is mindblowing. And Susanna Phillips absolutely brings it home. A superlative performance, to any eyes.
While Rodgers’ music is lush, varied and melodic, I believe that it was Larry Hart’s often sad yet smart lyrics that made tunes like “Falling in Love with Love”, “Little Girl Blue”, “My Funny Valentin,” “Blue Moon,” “I Could Write a Book” and “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” American classics.
And yet, although the overall effect of The Tales of Hoffmann is comic, Offenbach is a deft manipulator of emotions, and the very end of the piece is profoundly and deeply affecting. At the very end, Offenbach brings true, devastating weight to the opera, and leaves the audience with exactly the feeling he wishes.