Another Day, Another ‘Carmen’

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The New York Sun

Can the world, particularly New York, use another “Carmen”? Yes, the same way we can use another pepperoni pizza. As long as it’s good . . . And City Opera has a good “Carmen,” as proven Thursday night. Bizet’s opera can’t fail to appeal, if done faithfully, attentively, and full-heartedly.

Who is the most important performer in a “Carmen”? The gypsy girl herself, right? No, the conductor, always — he is “the straw that stirs the drink,” as someone once said. On him, more than anyone else, depends the success or failure of a “Carmen” (and of most operas).

City Opera has a good one in Ari Pelto, a Yankee from Connecticut. The overture was reassuring: crisp, vigorous, un-perfunctory. After the final note, someone in the audience whooped, and the audience in general cheered. Quite right.

Now, there was a lot — a lot — wrong with this “Carmen,” as it unfolded. The orchestra missed a million notes, it was often out of coordination with singers onstage, blah, blah, blah. I could give you a list a mile long. But all of this meant little next to the overall spirit of the thing. Mr. Pelto knows “Carmen” musically, and that made all the difference.

The title role was sung by Rinat Shaham, an Israeli mezzo. (How exotic that is to write: “Israeli mezzo”! “Israeli violinist” is far more ordinary.) You may remember Ms. Shaham from two years ago, when she sang Blanche in City Opera’s “Dialogues of the Carmelites” (Poulenc). She was splendid then; I included her in my Best of Season roundup. And she is a boffo Carmen.

For starters, she is fearless, a necessary quality for that character. She takes the stage and never doubts that it is her own. Second, Ms. Shaham does not ham it up — a temptation for any Carmen. She is actually believable in this role, which is remarkable.

On Thursday night, she sang very well, although there were imperfections here and there (of course). In the Habañera, her F sharps were a little low. But these problems were almost trivial. Ms. Shaham has a smallish voice, but she deploys it wisely: She doesn’t push, for example.

Her bottom register is mezzo smoky — Carmen smoky. And her top is wonderfully free. A big B in the Séguidille was a joy. Even that quick, concluding B was right-on — and virtually every Carmen misses that.

Finally, I might make one, not-quite-musical point about Ms. Shaham: nice gams. Really, really nice gams. The stage director (or someone) made sure she displayed them all night long.

Portraying Micaëla was Latonia Moore, who owns a live, ear-catching soprano. She was accurate with that instrument, too. I couldn’t understand a word out of her mouth, but that was okay: We know the libretto regardless.

Incidentally, there is a lot of spoken dialogue in this “Carmen” — and none of the cast members can speak anything like French (except for the Israeli).

In the role of Don José was the tenor Mark Duffin, who had a shaky night. Intonation was a problem — he was repeatedly flat — and the Flower Song was full of effort. But he sang some admirable notes, and will surely have better nights.

Similarly shaky was the baritone portraying Escamillo: Adrian Gans. His Toreador Song was a wreck — quavery, off-balance, cracky. But he certainly has the Escamillo swagger, and he, too, will have better nights.

A thoroughly welcome singer was Kathleen Magee, the soprano doing Frasquita. What easy and refreshing Cs! And the bass-baritone Philip Skinner was appropriately bluff as Zuniga.

The production is that of Jonathan Eaton, and I would call it a “classic ‘Carmen.'” That is no disparagement, believe me. This production is colorful, vibrant, and true to the opera. There aren’t as many bells and whistles here as in Franco Zeffirelli’s show for the Met. (Instead of bells and whistles, maybe I should say dogs and donkeys.) But it is no skimpfest.

And there are nice touches of humor in this production. For example, when we’re expecting the cigarette girls to emerge from the factory, we first see a nun.

If you like “Carmen” — and you should — see this one. And I don’t care that Rinat Shaham is not on the stage of the Met. She is a star, as was perfectly clear back in that “Dialogues.”

***

At the New York Philharmonic, Lorin Maazel began his second series of the season Thursday night, and he concludes it tomorrow night. On the first half of the program are a new work by Hans Werner Henze and a Romantic violin concerto; on the second half are two masterly orchestral showpieces. And Mr. Maazel has as his soloist one of the greats of our time.

Mr. Henze is a German composer, long resident in Italy, who was born in 1926. Two years ago, he composed “Dream of Sebastian,” which is subtitled “Salzburg Night-Music on a Poem by Georg Trakl.” Trakl was an Expressionist poet, dead young. As Mr. Henze’s 15-minute piece unfolds, you feel that it is telling you a story; but you cannot, of course, know what the story is.

Even reading the Trakl poem, frankly, doesn’t help much. Suffice it to say that it has to do with autumn, decay, and death. (What else is new?)

The score begins growly and off-kilter, and soon becomes agitated. It is filled with dreamy dissonances (which is not a contradiction at all). Mr. Henze specializes in what I must call modern Romanticism, lush and atonal at the same time. This piece ends abruptly and dramatically.

I bestow a high accolade on it, which is that I’d like to hear it again.

Saturday night, Mr. Maazel conducted the piece with clear commitment, as well as what seemed to me understanding.

The violin concerto on the program is Bruch’s No. 1, in G minor, and the soloist is Itzhak Perlman. For the past several years, I have said that Mr. Perlman should find a way to get himself in shape, if he wants to continue playing the violin in public. He seems ever busier as a conductor. A violinist of his stature should not embarrass himself.

On Saturday night, I’m happy to say, Mr. Perlman did not embarrass himself. One accepts, nevertheless, that he is not the Perlman of old. He does not have the old sound, either in quality or volume. And he does not have the old technique, including reliable intonation.

So what does he have? He has intelligence and musicality. I thought of the Gershwin song, “They Can’t Take That Away From Me.”The Bruch concerto requires — among other things — a gift for phrasing and flat-out flair. And Mr. Perlman will never, ever lose those.

How about the orchestra, in the Bruch? Mr. Maazel — a violinist himself — conducted the score with dignity and care, which was greatly to be appreciated. He did not condescend to the piece in any way.There were bobbles in the orchestra, however. The woodwinds blew the concerto’s opening.Other entrances were botched as well.

But the orchestra was responsible for some good. For example, the raging violins in a first-movement tutti were marvelous.

And the two orchestral showpieces after intermission? Ravel’s “Rapsodie espagnole” and Stravinsky’s “Firebird” (the suite, not the whole ballet).

Mr. Maazel is a capable “French” conductor, as he has proven many times. An account of Debussy’s “Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun” remains one of the most satisfying I have ever heard.

But he was not entirely successful in the Ravel this time. The piece was too slow and languid, and not shimmering or magical enough. It was simply too restricted and managed by the conductor to come off as it should. And yet, Mr. Maazel so enjoyed oozing sound out of the orchestra, it was hard to begrudge him.

And he showed the audience some of his patented dance moves.

Speaking of dance moves: He put on many in the “Firebird,” as befits a ballet. And he calibrated this music expertly, even excitingly. Take the Infernal Dance — holy smokes, was that fun. As I have noted many times, Mr. Maazel often reminds you why you loved music in the first place.

The suite’s Finale was way overmanaged — unnatural — but that was forgivable.

Last, a word about individuals: The Philharmonic’s principal bassoon, Judith LeClair, stood out — burnished, smooth, and alluring. She played well too. (Just kidding.) And the principal cello, Carter Brey, played with what I would label a matter-of-fact beauty (where that was appropriate).

Do you perhaps remember my praise of the horn section in last Friday’s review? Unfortunately, they were up to their old tricks Saturday night. They really struggled.

“Carmen” through November 18 (Lincoln Center, 212-721-6500).

The New York Philharmonic’s season continues through June 2007 (Lincoln Center, 212-721-6500).


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