Die Walküre

A live performance of Giuseppe Verdi's opera.

Amour, the messenger of the gods, tells Orpheus that he may descend to the underworld and return with Eurydice. His singing has the power to appease the Furies and animate the blessed Shadows. Yet, his voice cannot reassure Eurydice who despairs of the feigned indifference of Orpheus, put to the test by Jupiter. Raphaël Pichon conducts the opera of operas and Aurélien Bory displays the giddiness of the mental and supernatural spaces traveled by Orpheus and beyond. Marianne Crebassa plays a new breeches role with Hélène Guilmette (Hélène in Le Timbre d’argent) and Lea Desandre (the title role in Alcione).

James Levine leads a remarkable cast in one of Verdi’s most enduringly popular operas and brings fresh insights to this beloved score. Ileana Cotrubas is poignant and touching as Violetta, the consumptive courtesan who finds true love with Alfredo, sung with style and passion by the great Plácido Domingo. Cornell MacNeil is Germont, Alfredo’s father, who forces the two apart, setting in motion events that lead to a shattering and tragic conclusion. Colin Graham’s production features design by Tanya Moiseiwitsch and choreography by Zachary Solov.

The Met assembled a vocal dream team for Jonathan Miller’s stylish production of the eternal Mozart masterpiece: Renée Fleming as the Countess, Cecilia Bartoli as Susanna, and Bryn Terfel as Figaro. With James Levine—one of the world’s great conductors of Mozart—in the pit, Bartoli interpolating two rarely heard alternate arias, and Dwayne Croft as the Count and Susanne Mentzer as Cherubino, this is a performance for the record books.

Wagner’s Romantic opera demands singing actors who can truly inhabit their parts, and that’s just what we have here. Is it possible for a Knight of the Holy Grail to look more enticing than Peter Hofmann? No wonder Elsa (Eva Marton) falls in love at first sight. Marton’s heroine is innocent, but she is also a passionate, real-life young woman—which is good, because Leonie Rysanek is positively demented as Ortrud, the sorceress who accuses Elsa and Lohengrin of using magic. With James Levine’s superb conducting, the orchestra and chorus are similarly magical.

A stellar cast brings Puccini’s spellbinding opera to life, seizing every opportunity to thrill the audience. Luciano Pavarotti is Cavaradossi, the painter and political revolutionary in love with the beautiful and famous singer Tosca (the riveting Shirley Verrett). Rome’s diabolical chief of police, Baron Scarpia (Cornell MacNeil), wants Tosca for himself—but he underestimates the fury of a woman in love. With torture, murder, and a suicide in its final moments, Tosca packs more dramatic punches than most other operas—and this classic telecast captures them all. James Conlon conducts in a production by the incomparable Tito Gobbi, one of the great Scarpias of the 20th century.

With James Levine at the helm, Verdi’s multi-faceted masterpiece is revealed as a drama of almost Shakespearean proportions. Superstar Plácido Domingo takes on he demanding role of Don Alvaro, the outcast whose noble gesture unwittingly sets the wheels of fate in motion and destroys an entire family. Sharon Sweet is Leonora, the woman he loves, and Vladimir Chernov singe her vengeful brother Don Carlo, whose twisted hate is all-consuming. Roberto Scandiuzzi is the benevolent Padre Guardiano.

Luciano Pavarotti brings his spectacular voice and artistry to one of the most famous of all tenor roles—Manrico, the ardent troubadour, trapped in an impossible situation by forces beyond his control. The sensational Dolora Zajick, only days after her Met debut, gives an incandescent performance as the demented gypsy Azucena, thirsting for revenge against Count Di Luna (Sherrill Milnes). Eva Marton is the passionate Leonora, desired by both Manrico and the Count, and James Levine brilliantly leads the Met’s orchestra and chorus in some of Verdi’s best-known music.

Ghiaurov, Freni, and Bumbry were great voices in their time, and they are still effective here - good enough musicians to put over the quite heavy vocal and expressive demands of their roles. Louis Quilico was never quite in that league, and he sounds a bit spread and woofy in places here, but he works hard and effectively to bring Rodrigo to life. Placido Domingo recorded his first Don Carlo, for EMI with Giulini, about 15 years before this production, but he looks and sounds fine here - in the early 1980's he was doing very good Otellos and Lohengrins too, and Furlanetto, still in his 30's, brings a rich, young voice to an old part and succeeds in making the Grand Inquisitor vocally as well as expressively formidable. Levine brings both weight and energy to the score, and that reading fits well with the overall "traditional" design and production - the Met's wardrobe budget must have been severely taxed, but everybody looks splendid.

It truly is an historic performance. Domingo looking and singing like a god pouring out golden tones; Renato Bruson sounds, like the sublime Verdian Baritone that he was at that time; Nicolai Ghiaurov proves again that he was one of the greatest "Verdi Basses"; Mirella Freni shows that there was more to her than just being Mimi and Susannah-in fact I can remember reading that at the time of the premiere of this production that there were fist fights (not unusual in La Scala's gallery) between Mirella's many fans-between those fans that just wanting her to continue singing the light lyric repertoire that they were use to her singing and those that felt she should and could sing the lyric-spinto repertoire which, of course, she proved that,indeed, she could (She's still singing more than twenty years later). This performance captures some of the best Verdi singers of the time doing dear ole wonderful Giuseppi proud.

The Graham Vicks production of FALSTAFF opened the new Covent Garden Royal Opera House, and was not to everybody's taste; the garish primary colours of the costumes. The staging is effective-the complicated counterpoint of the ensembles is reflected in unobtrusive blocking that keeps the vocal lines clear and separate, especially in the final fugue. Bryn Terfel's Falstaff is a memorable creation, self-mocking and self-aggrandising at the same time-so much so, in fact, that he almost does not need the vast prosthetic body he has to wear for the part. Desiree Rancatore is an admirably sweet-toned Nanetta; Bernadette Manca di Nissa an appropriately sardonic Mistress Quickly; Roberto Frontali as Ford, in his Act 2 scena, perfectly distils and parodies every jealousy aria ever written, including Verdi's own. Haitink's conducting is exemplary in the lyrical passages, gets almost everything out of the fast and furious comic sections.