Well-known illustration critic, David Apatoff complimented a Lyric Opera poster on his blog yesterday.
The Pearl Fishers was an artistic highlight of the 2007-2008 season, and the poster artwork grew out of an intense collaboration between Muller Bressler + Brown (the Lyric Opera agency of record) illustrator and designer Kevin Brimmer and illustrator Sterling Hundley.
Paul Horsley of The Independent named the Lyric Opera of Kansas City production of John Brown as his most memorable arts event in 2008. Says Paul:
More than a decade in the creation, this opera by Kirke Mechem on the life of the famous abolitionist — which featured a bold performance by James Maddalena in the title role — was ‘the sort of magical success that composers and musicians dream of,’ as I wrote in The Star.
Paul’s full list of best arts events can be found in the December 27, 2008 edition of The Independent.
One of the exciting moments in a production is the final run through of the entire opera in the rehearsal room, prior to the first stage rehearsal on the actual set. It’s a great chance to see the work in a more pristine quality, without “distractions” like costumes, props, lighting and orchestra.
Here, utilizing the modern marvels of digital technology and a big assist from Apple, I have put together a few clips of this recent event for the curious.
I know you will find this difficult to believe, but in the early days of television, the major networks actually tried to broadcast high level cultural programming alongside the usual diet of sitcoms and other garbage.
One of the most extraordinary series of broadcasts took place between 1948 and 1952 when NBC broadcast 10 concerts of the NBC Symphony Orchestra conducted by Arturo Toscanini. These concerts were preserved on kinescopes (actually a camera recording a picture off a television screen) and while not exactly DVD high definition quality, they are remarkably watchable and in very good mono sound. The early broadcasts were in the infamous Studio 8H (very cramped and very dry acoustics) while the last broadcasts were in Carnegie Hall.
The 10 broadcasts are filled with Beethoven’s Symphony #5 and #9, Brahms #1, lots of Wagner orchestral excerpts, opera overtures, lots of miscellaneous orchestral stuff and finally, a concert version of Verdi’s Aida. This performance stars a young Richard Tucker, Herva Nelli, and Giuseppe Valdengo. The performance comes across as visually stiff because all the performers do is just stand there, often with their hands clasped in front of them. No attempt at any acting. And yet, this is a vocally exciting performance with one of the most galvanic triumphal scenes I have ever heard.
In fact, while there are a few clunkers in the set of 5 DVDs, overall, the level of sound and conducting are on a very high level. Watching the 80 year old Toscanini conduct is to see his incredible concentration, his economy of movement and hear what riveting performances he draws out of the musicians. He literally sweats buckets under the hot lights of Studio 8H. The camera work is very primitive in the first few broadcasts as is the picture quality but both greatly improve.
These DVDs have been purchased by the Johnson County Library and are available to be checked out. These are fascinating to anyone interested in great conducting and a great performance of Aida. Do yourself a favor and put these on hold and when they arrive, you will be able to spend many happy hours listening and watching one of the greatest conductors who ever lived.
BTW—on a Toscanini sidenote. LaScala was bombed by the allies in WW2. After the war, Toscanini personally donated what would be the equivalent of millions of dollars in today’s money to help rebuild the opera house. He led the first concert following the rebuilding which featured Verdi’s Requiem with a young Renata Tebaldi. It is possible that without his financial and moral support, LA Scala’s restoration would have been delayed by many years. This last week, La Scala was to have had a memorial concert with Daniel Barenboim conducting the Verdi Requiem in memory of the 50th Anniversary of Toscanini’s death. However, the concert was cancelled due to a salary strike. While I am usually pro-labor, it might have been nice if the strike could have been postponed for a few days to let the concert go on to honor Toscanini’s memory.
As regular attendees of Lyric Opera of Kansas City performances over the last decade will know, productions with greater intellectual or less familiar musical depths are sparingly interspersed between fare that is more easily appreciated by the uninitiated to what can be considered an unknown art form by many KC patrons. This programming choice is intentional, and by no means a put-down of those who might be coerced to lay down hard-earned coin of the realm to cross our threshold and partake of our goods with no prior knowledge of what is in store for them. For goodness’ sake, as a small town Minnesotan and the son of a grocer, I didn’t become enthralled by this art form to such an extent that I would dedicate my entire professional career to it after witnessing Parsifal, either live or on recording.
Like any pleasurable hobby, pastime, obsession or affliction, opera seems to grab folks indiscriminately. Before they know it, they’re comparing Gedda and Björling, Pavarotti and Domingo, Zeffirelli and Taymor, buying CDs or downloading tracks at odd hours of the night, and subscribing to arcane listservers. It just happens, and it’s far less detrimental to character than gambling or whoring (either actual or virtual) and so far is not listed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church as a sin of either classification (although my Papa Benedict XVI is clearly not enthralled with my choice of livelihood). Sometimes what we put on is the thinking person’s equivalent of the Monster Truck Show at the local arena or state fair grounds.
Since it is an American’s habit in this era to rush through his or her multi-tasked life, we arts producers have accommodated ourselves to the requirements of our potential constituencies. We offer our fare from the gods in modern, eye-catching, pre-digested, synopsized and Wikified commercial bytes, calculated to attract and elicit a “two thumbs up” response from our paying clientele that will result in a season subscription and at least minimal donation for a “privileged society/free parking pass for performance” membership.
But let’s be frank. We really want more from you – much more.
We chose our dubious professions because we hold insane, irrational opinions of the artistic, cultural and redemptive capacities of our beloved art forms. We are more sincere than the Fàtima children, and more enthusiastic than Carrottop. What’s more, we’d like you to join our number.
And we’re not telling you the whole truth. Most of the works we present were not just meant to entertain you for the duration of the performance. As a matter of fact, these works were usually labors of love, created in a era without residual earnings, copyright laws, MTV or any kind of file sharing (other than that of communal farriers).
These works were meant to last longer than your Izod, your iPod or your IRA. They were created with timeless, human struggles in mind, and they are meant to take some time to digest, understand and appreciate.
Please remember that the next time you go to an arts event and see something you “don’t like.” It is possible – as I have repeatedly discovered in my own life, to my embarrassment – that the creators/recreators have placed something before you for your examination that could change something about what you think about an aspect of life – perhaps your own life – if you open yourself to the possibility of your own change, growth and evolution.
As my mother told me in my formative years when I was acting on a blind, previously developed impulse rather than by evaluating the situation with the fresh, new, unfamiliar facts at hand – “Ward, use your noodle!
Something extraordinary happened during the fourth performance of our new AIDA production on Friday night. Someone booed – twice. The first instance came at the end of the Consecration Scene, a dimly lit scene in Act 1 which includes the sacrifice of a virgin after her partial disrobing (above the waist). Clearly a moment not in Verdi’s original conception of the scene, but (IMHO) a highly theatrical visual setting worthy of an Indiana Jones movie (the original, I believe). The scene ended, and a disapproving male rang out with a loud “boo!”
The second followed when the lights came up on the following scene – Amneris in her boudoir, lying on her large bed with a pair of scantily-clad male lovers keeping her company. The offended attendee announced his disapproval again, followed quickly by another patron contradicting by shouting “Boo you!
The offended patron was not heard from again for the rest of the evening, and the standing ovation of the audience at the end lead us to believe that in general our presentation was well received.
In conversation with veteran KC Symphony musicians during intermission, no one could ever remember a Lyric performance eliciting such a response.
It would seem that we have struck a nerve of some with this production. There are those who are utterly comfortable with all the operatic murders on stage throughout the repertory, but never wish to see anything that anyone might consider sexual.
While I respect people’s differing types of morality, I find this hypersensitivity to common sexual expression and total acceptance of assault and murder on the stage disingenuous in the extreme. Are we a people who accept the taking of human life as acceptable, but sexual contact as unacceptable? Doesn’t that sound foolish – and just plain wrong.
Opera as theater depicts the reality of human life. Attempting to sanitize its portrayal is just another instance of our insecure, hypercritical views about aspects of who we are that we are uncomfortable with.
One of theater’s chief tasks is to help us (or force us) to look at ourselves in a clear, focused and polished mirror with revelatory lighting.
And, just in case someone felt that our portrayal of Egyptian court life is inaccurate – Rameses II fathered over 100 children (and had a line of condoms named after him).
Thaddeus Strassberger, Lyric Opera of Kansas City’s designer/director for the 50th anniversary season opening production of Verdi’s AIDA talks with artistic director Ward Holmquist about his philosophy of reinterpreting the classic operas for present day audiences.
Karen Slack, soprano, talks with Lyric Opera of Kansas City artistic director Ward Holmquist about her upcoming Lyric debut in the title role of Verdi’s AIDA and her experiences at the Curtis Institute, the San Francisco Opera and the Met.
Mezzo Jane Dutton presents her first essays of Amneris in the new production by Lyric Opera of Kansas City for the 50th anniversary season. She talks with artistic director Ward Holmquist about her voice, career – and and the training and experiences of the past that have brought her to this major Verdi role.
A plea for cogitation – “Use your noodle!”
October 10, 2007 · Leave a Comment
From Ward Holmquist, artistic director
As regular attendees of Lyric Opera of Kansas City performances over the last decade will know, productions with greater intellectual or less familiar musical depths are sparingly interspersed between fare that is more easily appreciated by the uninitiated to what can be considered an unknown art form by many KC patrons. This programming choice is intentional, and by no means a put-down of those who might be coerced to lay down hard-earned coin of the realm to cross our threshold and partake of our goods with no prior knowledge of what is in store for them. For goodness’ sake, as a small town Minnesotan and the son of a grocer, I didn’t become enthralled by this art form to such an extent that I would dedicate my entire professional career to it after witnessing Parsifal, either live or on recording.
Like any pleasurable hobby, pastime, obsession or affliction, opera seems to grab folks indiscriminately. Before they know it, they’re comparing Gedda and Björling, Pavarotti and Domingo, Zeffirelli and Taymor, buying CDs or downloading tracks at odd hours of the night, and subscribing to arcane listservers. It just happens, and it’s far less detrimental to character than gambling or whoring (either actual or virtual) and so far is not listed in the Catechism of the Catholic Church as a sin of either classification (although my Papa Benedict XVI is clearly not enthralled with my choice of livelihood). Sometimes what we put on is the thinking person’s equivalent of the Monster Truck Show at the local arena or state fair grounds.
Since it is an American’s habit in this era to rush through his or her multi-tasked life, we arts producers have accommodated ourselves to the requirements of our potential constituencies. We offer our fare from the gods in modern, eye-catching, pre-digested, synopsized and Wikified commercial bytes, calculated to attract and elicit a “two thumbs up” response from our paying clientele that will result in a season subscription and at least minimal donation for a “privileged society/free parking pass for performance” membership.
But let’s be frank. We really want more from you – much more.
We chose our dubious professions because we hold insane, irrational opinions of the artistic, cultural and redemptive capacities of our beloved art forms. We are more sincere than the Fàtima children, and more enthusiastic than Carrottop. What’s more, we’d like you to join our number.
And we’re not telling you the whole truth. Most of the works we present were not just meant to entertain you for the duration of the performance. As a matter of fact, these works were usually labors of love, created in a era without residual earnings, copyright laws, MTV or any kind of file sharing (other than that of communal farriers).
These works were meant to last longer than your Izod, your iPod or your IRA. They were created with timeless, human struggles in mind, and they are meant to take some time to digest, understand and appreciate.
Please remember that the next time you go to an arts event and see something you “don’t like.” It is possible – as I have repeatedly discovered in my own life, to my embarrassment – that the creators/recreators have placed something before you for your examination that could change something about what you think about an aspect of life – perhaps your own life – if you open yourself to the possibility of your own change, growth and evolution.
As my mother told me in my formative years when I was acting on a blind, previously developed impulse rather than by evaluating the situation with the fresh, new, unfamiliar facts at hand – “Ward, use your noodle!
Mom, I’m still trying…
Categories: 2007-2008 Season · Ward's commentary
Tagged: art, opera, Verdi