Search: 8 results found for "Fatal La Parte"

Offenbach’s La Périchole (1868) will never cease to delight music lovers of all persuasions. Marc Minkowski – long one of the composer’s prophets – was keen to pay tribute to him with this world premiere recording on period instruments, in the company of the young school of French singers, including the bewitching Aude Extrémo, the dashing Stanislas de Barbeyrac and the hilarious Alexandre Duhamel. Combining fashionable rhythms with the most unexpected touches of folklore, the score is a veritable flood of hit numbers. How can one not be swept away by the insolence of the Seguidilla, the frenzy of the Bolero or the furious rhythm of the Prison Trio? Never before, perhaps, had Offenbach gone so far in caricaturing political leaders – nor used drunkenness to resolve the imbroglio of inextricable sentimental relationships. And indeed, the ‘Tipsy Arietta’ is one of the composer's best-known numbers. Cheers!

-----

REVIEW:

Bru Zane continues its French Opera series with Offenbach’s La Périchole, an opéra bouffe in three acts.

Offenbach enjoyed great success in 1867; he had productions showing at four Parisian theatres the year before completing La Périchole. Yet in May 1868 the tide was turning. Le château à Toto was unsuccessful, and a revival of Le pont des soupirs failed to inspire. Later in the year came the premières of opéra bouffes L'île de Tulipatan and La Périchole, neither of which kept a hold on the repertory. In 1874, for the revival of La Périchole, Offenbach revised the score considerably: three acts instead the original two acts. It was in this revised form that La Périchole has found favour with audiences.

In La Périchole there are the usual antics so typical of an opéra bouffe, including disguise, mix-ups, mistaken identity and comic twists. La Périchole and her lover Piquillo are a pair of Peruvian street singers who cannot afford a marriage license. Don Andrès de Ribeira, a lecherous Viceroy of Peru, wants La Périchole as his mistress, and makes her his lady-in-waiting. Piquillo, also employed in the Viceroy’s household, marries the veiled La Périchole without knowing it is she. Piquillo gets thrown into prison but the end results in an unexpected pardon from the Viceroy; the lovers are reunited.

Music director Marc Minkowski has conducted both versions of La Périchole. For the Opéra National de Bordeaux production recorded here, he has assembled a mixed version based on the original 1868 score and parts of the 1874 revision. This release was recorded at live performances of stage director Romain Gilbert’s production. Minkowski conducted Les Musiciens du Louvre who are thirty-six strong and use period instruments. Although it surely applies to all audio recordings of live performances to a lesser or greater degree, having seen a brief clip of the show I think the dramatic impact of La Périchole is especially diminished by not seeing the actual performance. Nevertheless, there is still much pleasure to be gained from this recording. The three principal characters – La Périchole, Piquillo and Don Andrès – are very well cast, with French-language singers.

Tenor Stanislas de Barbeyrac throws himself wholeheartedly into the role of Piquillo. A highlight is the brief Rondo de bravoure - Écoute, ô roi, je te présente, where Piquillo presents La Périchole to Don Andrès. This splendid example of Barbeyrac’s theatricalit, demonstrates his vocal clarity and projection, his high notes achieved comfortably. As femme fatale La Périchole, the rich-toned mezzo-soprano of Aude Extrémo projects well, with a first-class level of expression – although her voice does not always have the smoothest delivery. La Périchole’s renowned ‘Tipsy’ arietta - Ah! quel dîner je viens de faire!’ is a success. I wish I could have seen it. Best of all is her ‘Letter’ arioso to Piquillo - Ô mon cher amant, je te jur. The mezzo tenderly reflects how it would be better to separate owing to their poverty and list of misfortunes. It is hard to forget the distinction of Régine Crespin’s rendition of the ‘Letter’ arioso on her 1971 release ‘Prima Donna in Paris’ on Decca.

Alexandre Duhamel as Viceroy Don Andrès gives a creditable performance although it is more of an acting role. Note the ‘Incognito’ song with chorus Sans en rien souffler à personne where Viceroy goes out on the town in disguise. Duhamel is in secure voice, with impressive diction and strong expression. Of the hit numbers, one notes La Périchole and Piquillo’s Le conquérant dit à la jeune Indienne, a foot-tapping ballad with its extremely catchy tune. For the same reasons, I also relish the couple’s rendition of the celebrated Séguedille - Vous a-t-on dit souvent. Minkowski favours swift speeds. He draws a strong and expressive performance from Les Musiciens du Louvre. On occasions, within all the spirited playing there is some slight untidness but nothing too distracting. The Chœur de L’Opéra National de Bordeaux is hard to fault. They give a strong performance throughout under chorus master Alphonse Cemin.

The sound has clarity, and is well balanced. Not surprisingly, there is some miscellaneous stage noise, and applause after some arias and at the end of each act, but it is not a problem. It serves to add to the live atmosphere.

As we have come to expect from this Bru Zane French Opera series, there is a 168-page hardback book with a full French libretto and an English translation. Four informative and well written essays are also included, as is a synopsis and full cast and track listing. My only grumble is wanting the track listing to contain the page number of its place in the libretto.

There are several studio recordings of La Périchole in the catalogue. My first choice remains the 1977 Strasbourg recording on Erato, featuring Régine Crespin, Alain Vanzo and Jules Bastin, conducted by Alain Lombard. Originally, I had the Erato release on vinyl. It is worth knowing that the performance has no spoken dialogue. I find this Minkowski recording of La Périchole tremendously entertaining from start to finish, and I wish I had been in the Bordeaux audience. A fitting tribute in Offenbach’s 200th anniversary year.

– MusicWeb International (Michael Cookson)

PICTURE FORMAT: 16:9
APPROX RUN TIME: 199 Mins
SOUND: DTS SURROUND / LPCM STEREO
SUBTITLES: English/French/German/Spanish/Italian/Dutch
NO OF DISCS: 2

Robert Lloyd, Rolando Villazón, Amanda Roocroft, Dwayne Croft, Jaakko Ryhänen, Giorgio Giuseppini, Violeta Urmana
Royal Concertgebouw Orchestra / De Nederlandse Opera Chorus
Riccardo Chailly / Stage Director Willy Decker

Includes:
*Illustrated Synopsis and Cast Gallery. *Introduction to the opera including interviews with Robert Lloyd, Rolando Villazón, Amanda Roocroft, Violeta Urmana, Riccardo Chailly and Willy Decker.

In this majestic production of Verdi’s Don Carlo, Riccardo Chailly’s qualities as a Verdi conductor are brilliantly displayed in the dramatic precision and transparent instrumental detail he draws from both orchestra and cast. Willy Decker directs a wonderful piece of stagecraft, letting the tragedy unwind with minimal, yet telling, interventions.

The drama takes place in the mausoleum of Filippo II’s Escorial, where the tombs of countless generations of Spanish royalty line the walls. Filippo’s confrontation with Il grande inquisitore – which takes place over his own coffin, its resting place in the wall ready and waiting – is chillingly symbolic, as are the feet of the giant crucifix that hangs over Don Carlo as he sees his life sacrificed by his father.

R E V I E W S

This Don Carlo uses the four-act version of 1884, which is described in an interview extra on the first DVD as intended by Verdi to be more comprehensible than the original five-act version. That is debatable, to say the least, since the composer’s stated reasons for producing that revision (the third of four) were to make its length more manageable on stage and to improve the relation of music and text. Like many another fan of Don Carlo , I admit to a strong affection for both of the two longer editions: the 1867 French version and the 1886 Modena one (or “1884 with many of the great French bits stuck back in”). But that’s for listening, when the more late Verdi you’ve got, the better matters get, and you can take breaks at will for as long as you wish. If it comes to viewing a performance of Don Carlo , the wear-and-tear on the soloists has to be taken into account; and I’m more than willing to watch the 1884 edition.

So this Don Carlo lacks the monumental length that some critics (ignoring developments north of the Alps) complained about when the original French version of the opera appeared. But what is not done musically and temporally, stage designer Willy Decker accomplished here visually and vertically. His re-envisioned Crypt of the Kings in El Escorial features a huge, circular stone vault, with square, identical slate-colored wall plates piled seven high and 12 long to mark the burial slots of previous rulers. Towards the back of the stage is the lower shaft of an enormous cross: Christ’s down-turned toe is 12 feet above the singers, while the knee of the carved figure, at the top of the stage, is perhaps another 12 feet above. This unholy alliance of the Bauhaus and Symbolism is intended to convey the harsh, impersonal nature of religion at the royal court and the way in which it dwarfs the personality and reforming ambitions of Don Carlo. It succeeds beautifully, and remains the centerpiece of the production with the addition of minimal props.

While Decker’s visuals are impressive and his blocking effective, I’m less thrilled with his attempts at dramatic reinterpretation. For example, there’s an elaborate dumb show in the opening orchestral prelude of Philip II’s abusing Don Carlo to enforce religious conformity. When the latter attempts to kiss his father’s ring, Philip grabs Don Carlo’s hand in a painful, pincerlike grip, forcing the boy instead to slowly cross himself. Shortly afterwards, Don Carlo is grasped by the back of the neck and pushed down to the ground before the huge cross already discussed. This muddles matters right at the start by placing one of the opera’s victims, Philip, in the role of its only victor, the Grand Inquisitor. Who is the enforcer of dogma at the court and who bows his will to that dogma in the end?

The cast is variable, but generally very fine. Roberto Villazón is exceptional as Don Carlo, with just the right mix of lustrous metal in his attractively light tenor. His is also one of the most detailed assumptions of the title role, attentive to score markings and giving us the half-mad prince with poor impulse control in all his glory. Dwayne Croft is his match, using his lyrical baritone and fine phrasing to great effect (for example) at the start of the act III quartet. Robert Lloyd’s Philip II suffers at this stage of his career from a slight beat whenever he puts significant pressure on the voice, though he manages this by discreetly shortening some phrases. His Philip remains a shrewdly judged assumption of the role, more impressive for the sum of its parts than specific moments.

Amanda Roocroft may have been under the weather when they filmed this live performance (or series of performances—we are never told whether the recording was a one-shot or compiled over several nights), for her attractive soprano is marred by a wobble that regularly disturbs the musical line during the first act. Later, this problem retreats only to loudly sung high notes. Violeta Urmana similarly improves as the production continues. She has difficulty moving her large, dark voice in her act I song, slurring the repeated minor seconds, but does a fine job in act III’s “O don fatale.” Marisca Mulder is a vocally pert and attractive Tebaldo; and if Jaakko Ryhänen lacks the tonal blackness to make the most of his part as the Grand Inquisitor, he makes up for it by accuracy, strong breath support, and excellent acting. Chailly conducts his soloists sympathetically, if with only moderate energy.

Though recorded in 2004, the only audio format supplied here is LPCM Stereo. Visuals are 16:9 anamorphic, and subtitles are available in English, French, German, Spanish, Italian, and Dutch. The extras alluded to above include a plot synopsis and single pictures for each member of the cast, both of these features being as dull as they sound. The filmed interview is less interesting for its verbal content, which is often trivial, than for its succession of images showing the cast rehearsing and the stage under construction.

In sum, this is an intense, monochromatic, successful production of Don Carlo , sporting interesting ideas about stage design, and possessing performances by Villazón and Croft that are among the finest I’ve seen and heard. Don’t let the price hike for two DVDs throw you off its purchase.

FANFARE: Barry Brenesal

Search results: Search results

8 results

Products

Amor fatale / Rebeka, Armiliato, Munich Radio Orchestra

Offenbach: La Perichole / Minkowski, Bordeaux National Orchestra, Les Musiciens du Louvre

Verdi: Don Carlo / Chailly, Lloyd, Villazon, Roocroft, Et Al

Metamorfosi Trecento / Pasotti, La Fonte Musica

Best Of Verdi - Arias

Best Of Verdi - Arias [blu-ray]

Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin

Tchaikovsky: Eugene Onegin