August Opera Challenge Day Nine: Best Conductor

How could anyone not love Antonio Pappano? I desperately want Intermezzo to market t-shirts with her 'We ❤ Pappano' logo emblazoned across the front of them so I can declare my adoration for the diminutive maestro to the world on a daily basis. OK, maybe not on a daily basis, but you catch my drift. 

It may seem like choosing Tony P for the 'Best Conductor' post of the August Opera Challenge is a bit obvious. Since his Opera Italia documentary for the BBC last summer, he's been popping up absolutely everywhere, and is quickly becoming the closest thing to a 'household name operatic conductor' that we're likely to see. But that's exactly why I'm jumping on the bandwagon- has anyone else done more in recent history to turn people on to opera, and isn't an engaging, communactive face of the Royal Opera House exactly what's needed in today's climate of empty purses and ubiquitous TV talent shows? 

Of course it's not just the (very lovely) public face that attracts me. It's the music. Oh God, the music. If you've ever seen a bloke waving a baton at the front of an orchestra and wondered what the point of his presence there actually is, get hold of a recording Pappano has made, and then get a recording of the same piece conducted by someone else and have a listen. Now I'm not saying the non-Pappano disc will be worse, but I shouldn't imagine it will make you jump out of your skin in quite the same way. 

Of course, this is not a positive experience for everyone. Although she liked Tony's Pergolesi Stabat Mater, Anna Picard in the Independent noted that it would "have the style police reaching for the smelling salts" and on more than one occasion I've heard him being accused of over-egging the pudding. But I quite like my pudding over-egged, and being smacked about the head so hard by a Stabat Mater or a Requiem that you have to reach for the smelling salts is definitely my idea of a good time. 

I've actually had a pretty good Pappano year. I saw him conduct Respighi with the Orchestra of the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia in February, which was absolutely mind blowing. Just as mind blowing was getting my CDs signed post-concert. I even shook the hand that waves the baton (squidgy, well manicured) then in July I saw him conduct three times in four days (Tosca, William Tell, Tosca) which I heartily recommend if you need any cobwebs blowing away. Talking of blowing away cobwebs, have you heard his Verdi Requiem? I'm picking a clip about the making of it, so that I can include both his sensational conducting and sensational chat. Just ignore Rolando talking about ambulances. 

August Opera Challenge Day Eight: Best Bass/Bass-Baritone

I know you knew it was coming. You were probably wondering how long I could cope in a challenge such as this without penning an ode to Bryn. I really had no choice but to last out for eight days, but now I see the words 'Best Bass/Bass-Baritone' in front of me, and I am breathing a big sigh of relief. The truth is that no matter how much I gush about Placido, Callas and Cecilia Bartoli, there is one voice that I would always choose above all others and that voice is Bryn Terfel's. On the proverbial desert island, a recording by BT is the one I would save, and it's extremely rare for me to get through a day without listening to him sing something. Or indeed many things. This is the voice that has made me laugh very loudly on public transport (Falstaff) led me to queue outside the Royal Opera House for a combined twenty-eight hours (Tosca) and has frequently resulted in tears running down my face when I've least expected them to. 

The whole thing was pretty unexpected, to be honest. A mystery voice that drifted across the radio waves and literally floored me. Well, not literally. I crawled onto the bed and listened in silence, and had this sort of (corny) magical moment that I'll never forget, with the evening sun streaming into the room and my heart feeling like it had completely stopped beating. Love at first listen. And do you know what? It wasn't even anything remotely operatic. It was, of all things, Shenandoah. I knew right away that it was the voice for me. Weighty and powerful but with the ability to move into perfect lullaby-like lyrical softness. Full of character and clever intonation. A timbre that is rich and warm and deeply, deeply chocolatey. And I mean the kind of chocolate that has 70% cocoa solids and just enough cream to result in a serious sensory experience. I should stop with this description now, shouldn't I?

Of course after that, I sought out everything. What a delight to discover a voice that makes you feel like that, and then realise the person it belongs to is also a wonderful, humorous, sensitive performer. I can honestly say that I've never been disappointed by anything I've seen or heard Bryn do. Even when directors and designers get him to perform in the most outrageous of productions (Dulcamara Elvis? Falstaff the rooster? Mephistopheles in a dress?) I am delighted and charmed. Let's face it, I'm a tad in love. But we'll save that for a later August Opera Challenge post...

I think everyone I know curses the moment I fell for BT. There are days when people don't think that his interpretation of English folk songs go with an early morning cup of tea. Or that Bad Boys is the perfect soundtrack for driving to the supermarket. Or that opening a bottle of wine and turning up Wagner Arias is the best way to spend a Saturday evening. Is this the reason people pretend fuses have gone and batteries have died?

I guess that Bryn will make more appearances in the August Opera Challenge than anyobody else. I can forsee a lot of my favourite Terfel moments coming up in other posts, so I wanted to choose my YouTube clip wisely and not pick something from an opera that's going to make five other appearances. I think Sono lo spirito che nega from Boito's Mefistofole fits the bill perfectly as the opera is unlikely to pop up in another post, it's something Bryn has been singing a lot at concerts and recitals recently, and it is the perfect vehicle for his dramatic as well as vocal talents. This is SUCH a charismatic and strong performance from the Bad Boys tour. Enjoy!

August Opera Challenge Day Seven: Best Baritone

I recently had a pleasant little chat with a lighting guy from the Royal Opera House, who informed me that during Simon Keenlyside's performances in the title role of Don Giovanni, he had been asked to direct the lights in order to make SK look as naked as possible. "My job was basically to light Simon's bits," he laughed, as I tried to prevent myself from fainting on the pavement. I'm supposed to be talking about singing, aren't I? I know, I know. Gosh.

I don't even know when or where I first heard Simon Keenlyside (please note that I didn't write 'see Simon Keenlyside' as I'm trying to be serious now...) but he possesses a voice that, for me, always seems so full of intelligence and emotional depth. It's what you would expect from opera's most prominent zoologist. Add to this the aforementioned physical attributes, and what you've got is opera magic. As I write this, I'm listening to him singing with Natalie Dessay in the Met production of Thomas's Hamlet and my heart is just twisting itself into knots. I know he isn't everyone's cup of tea. I recently met a lovely lady who told me that for her, he isn't an actor and doesn't move his face enough, but I seem to witness something entirely different. He's in that class of opera singer who can really make me feel something, and I laugh at his Papageno in Mozart's Die Zauberflote as much as I cry at his Rodrigo in Verdi's Don Carlo. But his Hamlet is really fantastic. I'm going to pick a bit with Jennifer Larmore's Gertrude, because he moves his face. A lot. So there.

August Opera Challenge Day Six: Best Tenor

If we were talking specifically about a tenor for my generation of opera-goers, then my choice would certainly be Jonas Kaufmann, but given that the title of this challenge is simply 'Best Tenor', I will have to go for Placido Domingo. Since starting to write this blog and delving into the opera community on Twitter, I've spoken to and met some genuine Placido superfans. People who know every detail there is to know and have followed him all over the world. I'm certainly envious of them (especially those that have seen him sing some of his greatest roles in the greatest productions in the greatest opera houses) but I can't claim to be that sort of fan. I guess relatively speaking, I'm too young to have trotted all over the globe for him, and having been a student until quite recently, I've never had the financial means. I do love him, though. And in many ways, he was my introduction to opera.

I feel like I've told the story of my seeing Zeffirelli's film of La Traviata when I was a little girl again and again (I've certainly told it on this blog before) so I won't bore you with the details, but the upshot was I fell for him in a big way. I bought a Domingo recording. It was the first record (of any description) that I'd ever bought, and it started something serious. Maybe it was even a bit detrimental to my love of opera, as there's this little bit of me that only ever feels like a tenor role is sung properly when it's PD singing it. I breathe a little sigh of relief when I hear that gorgeous voice. And it is just one of the most gorgeous voices that there has ever been. OK. Let's not gush too much. But what to pick? We'll probably have some La Traviata later on in the August Opera Challenge. And some Fanciulla. And some Otello. And there will definitely be some Tosca. Puccini's Manon Lescaut? Yes. Let's have some Manon Lescaut. And what else but the love duet? Sigh.

August Opera Challenge Day Five: Best Alto/Contralto

Several years ago when I was living far from home, my mother sent me an audio documentary about the founding of Glyndebourne narrated by Ralph Fiennes. It was my general interest in opera and my fondness for Fiennes that led her to send it, but she'd stuck a little post-it note on the CD cover which said 'I love Kathleen Ferrier's voice.' I'm ashamed to say that I had no idea who she was, but through that documentary I heard her beautiful, deep, rich-toned contralto for the first time and learned a little bit about her life and singing career.

I have a theory that our favourite singers (well, certainly mine) do not always become so dear because of musical perfection alone. Often, there are memories and experiences linked to the first time we heard their voice drift out of a speaker, or the first time we saw them perform on stage. With Ferrier, I guess it added to the magic that I was miles away from friends and family, and it was comforting to get a recommendation from home that proved to be so wonderful. Her voice seems to be connected to a lot of lovely moments for me- last year a friend of mine was driving us back from an amazing performance at Welsh National Opera when her crackly, atmospheric performance of  'What is life to me without thee?' from Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice came on the radio. It filled up the car and the darkness as we drove back from Cardiff, and has stuck in my mind almost as much as the opera we saw.

Orfeo in Orfeo ed Euridice was one of only two fully staged operatic roles she performed (the other being Lucretia in Britten's The Rape of Lucretia) and although she had a strong association with Glyndebourne and was well recieved at the Royal Opera House, she was thought to be a pretty uncomfortable actress. She died of cancer in 1953 aged just 41, so we'll never know if she could have been persuaded to add more roles to her repertoire. She left behind some beautiful recordings though, among them Mahler's Kindertotenlieder. Recently, German artist Mariele Neudecker produced a visual interpretation of the heartbreaking song cycle consisting of film, sculpture and lots of little walk-in rooms. It was Ferrier's recording that provided the musical backdrop, and when it was exhibited at Opera North's Howard Assembly Room, I found it very moving. So I'll pick the Kindertotenlieder (specifically In diesem Wetter!) even though it's not opera...

August Opera Challenge Day Four: Best Mezzo

I've spent a year gushing over Joyce DiDonato, but given that it's only been twelve months since I fell for her, I really have to go for Cecilia Bartoli here because I've adored her since I was a little girl. The more opera fans I speak to, the more I learn that baroque, and even more specifically Cecilia, are not everybody's cup of tea. But I've met a lot of enthusiastic Bartoli devotees at her recitals, and those that get it really get it! I guess that amount of coloratura played out with such originality and character might be a bit off-putting for some, but her voice and technique really grip my heart, and I find myself falling more in love with every note she sings. Yes, I think this might be my one and only girl crush.

Cecilia is a heroine of mine for a lot of reasons. She stands her ground about repertoire that is appropriate for her fairly niche voice, has an academic approach to making records which has produced many world premiere recordings of baroque music, and when she is on the operatic stage, she has an intelligence and sense of humour which bring every character she plays to life. It's present in recitals, too- what can I say about those trademark moves and facial expressions? And how can I describe a voice that plunges such velvetty depths and rises to produce such sparkling, champagne-like coloratura? I've chosen this clip from her Sacrificium project, which explored the art of the castrati. Porpora's Come nave in mezzo allonde is one of my favourite Cecilia arias, and I think this really shows off her magical voice as well as her unique dramatic qualities!

August Opera Challenge Day Three: Best Soprano

This choice will probably be viewed as a cliché by some, and there will be others who will tell me that there are more technically perfect sopranos, but I doubt any female singer will ever come close to Callas for me. I adore the dark, dramatic, ravishing depths of her voice and the way that every character she took on from Medea to Violetta was acted so beautifully through the vocal alone. You don't need any visuals when you listen to Callas- every drop of anger, fear, lust and sadness is projected around the room you are sitting in, and for that, I can easily forgive the lack of perfection. Her versatility is also something to be celebrated- which other 20th century soprano could have belted out Wagner on a Monday and turned her hand to a bit of bel canto Bellini on a Tuesday?

By the time she was really famous, her voice no longer had the brilliance of the early years, and there was that infamous little wobble going on (Callas and Giuseppe Di Stefano were compared to 'two barking dogs' during their comeback tour in the early 1970s..) but I just don't care. She was a real tragedy queen (sadly off stage as well as on) and no one moves me like Maria. I have so many favourite Callas moments, but I guess there will be plenty of opportunities to force them on you before the August Opera Challenge is over. For now, I'll pick a classic Callas moment- Casta Diva from Bellini's Norma performed in Paris, 1958. They might not be complete precision vocals, but it's a sound that's unmistakably Callas, and just hearing this, never mind looking at that iconic image, makes me feel a teensy bit more stylish.