'Tosca' Time at the New York Philharmonic
In these last weeks of the 2008-09 season, the New York Philharmonic is providing a night at the opera. They do this every once in a while put on an opera-in-concert. The current offering is Puccini's "Tosca." And the Philharmonic will perform it twice more, tomorrow and Thursday nights.
Last Thursday night, the conductor, Lorin Maazel, was fabulously good. And the conductor is the most important factor in most any opera. But, honoring tradition, we will first consider the singers.
They were not household names, but they were easily up to the task. Tosca was sung by Hui He, a Chinese soprano. Chinese musicians do not only do string instruments. Hui He has a big voice, but she can use it lyrically. She was scalding, as Tosca needs to be. And she was tender, as the old girl also needs to be.
And Hui He could be relied on to put the right drama in her voice. She sang with technical and interpretive assurance. She had about two bad notes all night long these came at the end of the aria "Vissi d'arte." (Not a good time for bad notes to come, granted.) And her final vow promising to deal with Scarpia in the afterlife was tremendous.
Cavaradossi was an Italian tenor with a non-Italian first name: Walter Fraccaro. Like Hui He, he has a big voice a very big voice. In fact, he sounded more like a Manrico (in Verdi's "Trovatore") or a Radamθs (in Verdi's "Aida") than a Cavaradossi.
He was a little rough-and-ready, and he went in for some odd mannerisms (interpretive ones). Furthermore, he was discomfortingly flat in the "dolci mani" music.
But he was usually clarion, and always stalwart. And his high notes were very impressive. You should have heard those cries of "Vittoria!"
Scarpia was a real discovery, at least as far as I'm concerned. He was George Gagnidze, a Georgian baritone. And he looked just like a thug. (No offense.) In fact, he looked like a young Mussolini, barrel-chested and broad-faced. No one ever looked more like a Scarpia.
I swear, he looked more like Scarpia in his concert tux than he would have in a proper, opera-house costume.
Most important, he sang and acted splendidly. He was on the mark in all of Scarpia's moods: belligerent, sweet-talking, sinister. Henceforth, when I think of Scarpia, I will almost surely think of Mr. Gagnidze.
Supporting singers were strong, and I might single out David Korn, the male soprano who sang the Shepherd Boy. He showed steely nerves.
All of the singers did just the right amount of acting not too little, not too much. The sacristan took his snuff. Tosca, Cavaradossi, and others imagined the new picture in the church. We did not have to see blood to know that Cavaradossi had been tortured etc.
Mr. Maazel was firing on all cylinders. He was tremendously animated, smart, and stylish. The opera had incisiveness and color, all the way through. Usually, it crackled. And there was not a namby-pamby note, not an ounce of spun sugar.
Mr. Maazel was even funny, where the score includes that quality. (Think of the notes with which the sacristan makes his final departure.)
Act 1, with all those various goings-on in church, built magnificently. The tension and menace in Act 2 were extraordinary. And the final act was duly wrenching. You would be hard-pressed to find a better-conducted opera.
Mr. Maazel kept tight control of things, as he's wont to do he did this from the opening chords. He conducted the singers even when they were unaccompanied by instruments. But this was intelligent and musical control so who could complain?
As many often say, Lorin Maazel is a puzzle. The night before this particular performance, he had led an awkward "'Ring' Without Words" (in my opinion). On Thursday night, he was a new man. Why?
In the main, the orchestra played responsively, and they sounded exceptionally good. They sounded better in Avery Fisher Hall than they had the night before in Carnegie Hall a hall with infinitely better acoustics. One lone detail: The string playing after Scarpia's death (murder) was hugely rich.
Yes, the Philharmonic does opera nights every once in a while. And if productions in New York go seriously south in the next few years both at the Met and at City Opera at least we'll have these operas-in-concert at the Phil.
J.N.
