Cheat alert. I'm not actually choosing an opera for 'Best Libretto,' but an actual librettist. As soon as I saw that this question was going to come up, I knew it would be too difficult to pick a favourite from Le nozze di Figaro, Cosi fan tutte and Don Giovanni, so given that the librettos for all of these Mozart operas were written by Lorenzo Da Ponte, can I just have them all? Thanks.
Da Ponte wrote twenty-eight librettos for various composers in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, but his three collaborations with Mozart are the operas he is best known for. I think it is the collaborative effort that makes them truly special- the sparkling wit of the words meeting the sparkling music. There are so many stand out arias, duets etc from these three works. There are those that will make you laugh (Guardate!- Madamina, il catalogo e questo from Don G) and those that will make you weep (Dove Sono i bei momenti from Figaro) but I'm picking something that sort of does both, with a big helping of sex appeal on the side- Il core vi dono from Cosi fan tutte.
I absolutely love this duet between Dorabella and her lover's best friend Guglielmo, who is disguised as a mysterious Albanian gentleman in the hope of tricking her into cheating on her man (thus proving that no woman can stay faithful.) It's at this point in the opera that you realise that the ruse may be falling apart and a bit of a love square begins to form. Da Ponte's clever lyrics invite a certain degree of intimacy between the performers, and have led to some seriously sexy performances of Il core vi dono over the years (I can hardly bring myself to listen to Bryn and Cecilia's very breathy interpretation on their Duets album...) but I'm picking the Nicolas Hytner Glyndebourne production from 2006, in which Luca Pisaroni and Anke Vondung get up close and personal. 'Oh, cambio felice di cori e d'affetti!'
There are so many operas that end in tragedy, so it's really been quite hard to choose. As different works have floated into my head as being possible subjects for this post, I've tried to concentrate on how the music of each really makes me feel, and I think that it was one particular aria from Verdi's Otello that really swung it for me- Desdemona's Ave Maria. That's not to say that it's the only part of the opera that affects me deeply, but it's definitely the part at which you realise there's no way out for her, or for him.
Otello's based on one of the most famous tragic plays ever written, and with music by the master of the dramatic, how could you not be moved? It's one of those operas that I'm always tempted to watch with my hands over my eyes. Even though I know how it's going to end, I always want to yell out and tell Otello what's going on before everything gets out of control and he ends up murdering his wife. But of course, that wouldn't be the done thing...It tends to take me some time to recover after it's all over, and that's how it should be with a tragic opera. You need to be utterly devastated or something somewhere has gone a bit wrong.
I couldn't not have a picture of Domingo as Otello- I adore him and it's one of his career defining roles, but I'm choosing Maria Callas singing the Ave Maria. I think it's the knowledge you have of what is going to happen to Desdemona that makes this aria unbearably sad, and the music itself is simply stunning- one of my favourite things composed by Verdi. Lots of sopranos sing it beautifully, but the depth of Callas's voice and that characteristic tremble really add to the heartbreaking sadness, and as always, she brings the part to life without us even needing to see her. Sob.
I was tempted to choose Puccini's Gianni Schicchi, but really, when you think of the words 'comedy opera', it's Rossini that springs to mind. I'm picking his Il barbiere di Siviglia, the archetypal opera buffa, in which the young Count Almaviva disguises himself as a poor student named Lindoro to win the affections of the beautiful Rosina, who is kept prisoner by her guardian Dr. Bartolo. With the help of Figaro (his former servant) and by way of some very silly japes, he pulls it off and they all live happily ever after.
It's pretty much a laugh a minute, but I'm not just talking about the plot. Rossini's instantly recognisable tunes have the ability to make you chuckle as much as the libretto or the action that is taking place on stage do. Take the overture for example. It begins conventionally enough before moving into that very famous dramatic flourish, but by the half way point I always find it hard to suppress a giggle. His musical turn of phrase sounds almost sarcastic to me at times, and if you're inclined to have a bit of a dance to operatic overtures (and I'm not saying I am, honestly...) then you will be hard pressed not to bust a move that looks specifically designed to make others laugh. And what about Largo al factotum- surely one of the most hilarious arias of all time? And how can you not crack a smile at Una voce poco fa? I'm going for Dunque io son, though. It's one of my favourite operatic duets, and it gives me the opportunity to watch lovely Joyce DiDonato pair up with Pietro Spagnoli, who is one of my favourite singers and should, in my opinion, be a lot more famous than he is.
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.
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!
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.
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.
