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Broadway World, Oct. 19, 2018 |
Richard Sasanow |
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Puccini: La Fanciulla del West, New York, Metropolitan Opera, ab 17. Oktober 2018 |
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Kaufmann Returns to the Met with a 'Heigh-ho Silver' in Puccini's FANCIULLA DEL WEST
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Anyone who was expecting the equivalent of Bette Midler's arrival as Dolly
in the Harmonia Gardens when Jonas Kaufmann finally returned to the Met, on
October 17, after four years and some high-profile cancellations, must have
been wildly disappointed.
Maybe New Yorkers have been disappointed
too many times by the promise of Kaufmann unfulfilled--the last time was his
cancellation of the entire run of then-new TOSCA and a clutch of
CARMENs--that there was a kind of wait-and-see in the opera house on October
17, until way into his portrayal of Dick Johnson/Ramirez the bandit.
There was no applause to disrupt the Met orchestra under Marco Armiliato
as the tenor slunk on stage when attention was elsewhere, in a performance
that was midway into the fall's run of Puccini's LA FANCIULLA DEL WEST, with
only a modest amount of rehearsal under his belt. (Netrebko's husband, tenor
Yusif Eyvazov, reportedly had done some fine work since the production's
first night on October 4.)
Oh sure, Kaufmann looked like a glamorous
buckaroo compared to the rest of the Wild West cast in LA FANCIULLA DEL
WEST, in what must be the least showy of Puccini's major tenor roles.
Compared to some of the star tenor misfires already this season at the Met,
he had a triumph; compared to Kaufmann at his best, well, things seemed a
little low key. That is, until he let it rip in Act III's "Ch'ella mi
creda," his ode to bar-keep Minnie (soprano Eva-Maria Westbroek) as he
awaits execution by Sheriff Rance (baritone Zeljiko Lucic, in good voice)
and the goldminers.
The baritonal quality of Kaufmann's voice,
however, from the moment of his entrance was compelling and it lent heft and
fascination to his scenes with Westbroek. Their physical chemistry was
palpable during Act II's scene in her cabin, their attraction as sure as the
composer must have imagined.
Make no mistake. While FANCIULLA may not
be particularly popular with audiences, this is no second-rate work. The
composer wrote it specifically for the Met, and though he was going through
some personal problems, they didn't show up in the score, where sex (among
other emotions) shows up with alternating dissonance and sweetness. One
could also hear strains of TOSCA and LA BOHEME at unexpected moments and
foreshadowing of TURANDOT as well. (If you're going to steal, why not do it
from the best.)
The Giancarlo del Monaco production, which debuted in
1991, might be considered the anti-Zeffirelli, with more than a little gray
in Michael Scott's sets and costumes. (There wasn't a single visual effect
to send the audience into swoons and applause.)
Yet, this time
around, things moved along quite smoothly, under the revival's stage
director, Gregory Keller, and the large ensemble of gold-seekers sang and
acted admirably, though moving the clunky sets around led to two endless
intermissions. Lucic might have been a less gruff than usual Sheriff, but it
was good that the character, for once, seemed more than a minor league
Scarpia, even when Minnie rejected his advances.
However, for better
or worse, the opera doesn't really belong to the tenor or the baritone: It's
the Fanciulla--the Girl--of the title who takes center stage and the
chemistry between soprano Westbroek and Kaufmann was palpable. She's a good
actress, too (a top-drawer LADY MACBETH OF MTSENSK), so it's sad to report
that her vocal health is far from solid these days, and, despite her
Turandot-like volume, she missed a number of high notes, which was a real
distraction.
The opera has a number of good feature roles and the Met
cast did well by them. In particular, baritone Michael Todd Simpson was a
fine Sonora, in probably the opera's best defined role, showing growth from
blunt to poignant by the opera's finale. Bass Oren Gradus turned in a
smoothly sung Jake, while tenor Carlo Bosi did well as the loyal Nick.
Conductor Armiliato tried to move things along, and the Met orchestra
turned in a nuanced performance, but changing the old-fashioned set pushed
the opera toward its breaking point by the end of the evening.
Halfway into the first act, I heard some familiar musical strains--and
suddenly remembered that the melody had been stolen by Puccini from Andrew
Lloyd Webber's "Music of the Night" in PHANTOM OF THE OPERA. Oh, wait:
Puccini died 24 years before Webber was born. What could I have been
thinking?
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