Blitzstein's 'Regina' at Maryland Opera Studio

Blitzstein, Regina, Maryland Opera Studio (photo by Geoff Sheil)
This review is an Ionarts exclusive.

Marc Blitzstein's Regina is one of those great American operas that one hears almost never. The last production written about here was given at the Bard Festival over a decade ago. Maryland Opera Studio is mounting the work in a full production this month, seen on Friday night at the Clarice Smith Center in College Park. Although the work was premiered at a theater on Broadway, the composer revised it considerably a few years later as more of an "opera" than a "musical," when it had greater success. It is an amalgamation of jazz, music theater, and opera, in a way much more palatable than Kurt Weill's Lost in the Stars, for example. Blitzstein was an outsider in many ways -- uncloseted homosexual, committed Communist, murder victim -- but had perhaps unexpected high art aspirations for his music, even in "low" genres. Although spoken dialogue switches easily with sung lines, it is accompanied by continuous music in a wide range of styles.

Blitzstein, Regina, K. Ciesinski, S. Ramey, Scottish Opera Orchestra and Chorus, J. Mauceri (London, 1992)

Regina is an adaptation of Lillian Hellman's 1939 play The Little Foxes, which along with her 1946 prequel play Another Part of the Forest tells a story based on Hellman's wealthy, Jewish extended family in the small town of Demopolis, Alabama, where there was a synagogue established prior to the Civil War. The title character is a scheming manipulator, played so memorably by Bette Davis on screen, who betrays the husband forced upon her by her domineering father, as well as her two brothers, who control all the family's fortune. Mezzo-soprano Louisa Waycott stood out from the rest of the cast for her vocal force and sneering presence as Regina, the only singer who could be heard clearly from all parts of the stage. Even at the top of the curving staircase in Diana Chun's striking set, she could be heard in those monotone recitatives of the second act, where she spits down vitriol on the servants and other characters.

Bass Daren Jackson had a fine sound as Horace Giddens, Regina's estranged husband, and soprano Chelsea Davidson was a pleasing Alexandra, Regina's daughter. As the flighty, boozy, tragic figure of Birdie, Regina's sister-in-law, soprano Laynee Dell Woodward nailed the coloratura pyrotechnics but her tone paled somewhat in places, a perhaps appropriate facet of her well-acted characterization of the role. Baritone Anthony Eversole's Oscar was the stronger of the two conniving brothers, with Mark Wanich's Ben often covered by the orchestra. Tenor Alec Feiss was a lightweight, dim-witted Leo, Regina's nephew who steals the bonds for the cotton mill investment plan, and Alexandra Christoforakis (Addie) had her best moment in the charming Rain Quartet that opens Act III. Young conductor Craig Kier kept the score together, although balances between stage and pit were not always optimal, with the UMD Symphony Orchestra, also made up of students in the University of Maryland School of Music, struggling at times in terms of rhythmic ensemble and intonation. The production directed by Nick Olcott is a winner, with peppy period choreography by Adriane Fang for the dance scenes.

This production runs through April 16, at Maryland Opera Studio.

Nikolaj Znaider Lifts a Baton

Mahler, Symphony No. 1, Bavarian Radio Symphony Orchestra, R. Kubelik (Audite, 2000) Mozart, Piano Concertos 20-27, M. Bilson, English Baroque Soloists, J. E. Gardiner (Archiv, 1989)

Christoph Eschenbach has used some of his remaining time at the helm of the National Symphony Orchestra to give some aspiring conductors a shot. The results with Nathalie Stutzmann were inspiring; with violinist Nikolaj Znaider, who appeared as soloist with the NSO last week (while I was in Greece), not as much. Most conductors get their start playing an instrument, and some continue to do both, so there is nothing all that surprising about another violinist taking up the baton. A Mozart piano concerto and Mahler's first symphony showed competence in conducting -- "knowing how the music goes," as Znaider told Anne Midgette in the Washington Post -- but little beyond that.

British pianist Benjamin Grosvenor has dazzled as a recitalist, but his take on the solo part in Mozart's 27th piano concerto left something to be desired. Most of the problems came from an unsteady tempo, as Grosvenor rushed through many of the passages in sixteenth notes, requiring readjustments from the orchestra to cover his unpredictability. The difference was quite striking when he played Mozart's cadenzas, where without any ensemble issues to worry about, Grosvenor shone as he has in the recital format. Znaider was not much help, settling on quite different pacing for the orchestral sections of the slow movement, for example, and allowing some of the delicate woodwind lines to be swallowed up in orchestral sound. Grosvenor's right hand dominated the solo part, while most of the details of the left hand went unheard, and his very fast tempo choice in the finale pushed that movement from being somewhat avuncular to a sound that was harried and, more often than not, a little mechanical.

Other Reviews: Anne Midgette, Soloist-turned-conductor impresses with NSO’s Mahler (Washington Post, April 8) ---, “You can make good music almost anywhere.” (Washington Post, March 29) Robert Battey, NSO wraps a fine new piece in competent but uninspiring chestnuts (Washington Post, April 1)

It is easy to get the loud, exciting parts of Mahler's first symphony right, and when Znaider gave the brass its head in this work's explosive sections, he predictably propelled many people in the Kennedy Center Concert Hall to their feet. As Jens Laurson has put it, however, performances and recordings that "delight those who are looking for a show in what can admittedly be seen as Mahler’s showiest symphony" are in many ways missing the point. The other parts of the "Titan" are to be treasured in a rendition that is a little more deeply thought through, and here the forest murmurs of the first movement were a little drab. The second movement felt awfully fast, so that the later outbursts had to be really fast. The comic funeral march of the third movement got off to a good start in the double-bass solo, but too much of the movement, which has so many weird, idiosyncratic moments, had a disappointing sameness, even those bumptious folk-band interruptions. The luscious bits of the finale, too, were foursquare, a little plain, which left only the bombast to be admired.

This program repeats just once, on Saturday evening, April 9.

Forbes Classical CD of the Week

#CDoftheWeek on @ForbesOpinion: https://t.co/Nsx5Ibgw6T Croatian Romantic Surprise!#CDo… https://t.co/9DiGEOdpcC pic.twitter.com/NGbBEDYKpa

— Jens F. Laurson (@ClassicalCritic) April 6, 2016

Salome goes to Croatia: That’s the imaginary title for this new CD that came to my mind while listening to these four orchestral songs of the Croatian composer Pejačevič (1885-1923). Although works and composer were hitherto unknown to me, I’m not surprised that Schoenberg, who was shown one of these (“Metamorphosis”, on a poem by Karl Kraus), commented warmly on it:……

-> Classical CD of the Week: Croatian Romantic Discovery

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#morninglistening: Trifonov at Work

#morninglistening to #Rachmaninoff Variations w/Trifonov on @dgclassics#classical #class… https://t.co/oYhHVIS26N pic.twitter.com/J39MiNVUPQ

— Jens F. Laurson (@ClassicalCritic) November 4, 2015

A short video-interview with Daniil Trifonov here: Eight Questions for Daniil Trifonov

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On Byron's Trail in Athens

Greece Embracing Lord Byron (Athens)

"Slow sinks, more lovely ere his race be run,
Along Morea's hills the setting sun;
Not, as in northern climes, obscurely bright,
But one unclouded blaze of living light;
O'er the hush'd deep the yellow beam he throws,
Gilds the green wave that trembles as it glows:
On old Aegina's rock and Hydra's isle
The god of gladness sheds his parting smile;
O'er his own regions lingering loves to shine,
Though there his altars are no more divine.
Descending fast, the mountain-shadows kiss
The glorious gulf, unconquer'd Salamis!
Their azure arches through the long expanse,
More deeply purpled, meet his mellowing glance
And tenderest tints, along their summits driven,
Mark his gay course, and own the hues of heaven,
Till, darkly shaded from the land and deep,
Behind his Delphian rock he sinks to sleep.

On such an eve his palest beam he cast,
When, Athens! here thy wisest look'd his last.
How watch'd thy better sons his farewell ray,
That closed their murder'd sage's latest day;†
Not yet—not yet—Sol pauses on the hill,
The precious hour of parting lingers still;
But sad his light to agonizing eyes,
And dark the mountain's once delightful dyes;
Gloom o'er the lovely land he seem'd to pour,
The land where Phoebus never frown'd before;
But ere he sunk below Cithaeron's head,
The cup of woe was quaff'd—the spirit fled;
The soul of him that scorn'd to fear or fly,
Who lived and died as none can live or die."

† Socrates

-- Lord Byron, The Curse of Minerva (excerpt)

Byron penned this poem (or at least the beautiful start of it) on March 17, 1811, when he was staying at the Capuchin Convent here in Athens. He later withdrew it from publication, and its later stanzas, in which Athena herself appears to the poet to condemn the destruction of her most sacred temple, on the city's acropolis, by Lord Elgin, are more than a little hokey. The Capuchin monastery used to be in a building that incorporated the Choragic Monument of Lysicrates, from the 4th century B.C. Known as the first structure to feature the Corinthian architectural order in an exterior context, it is a monument to a wealthy citizen of Athens who supported the musicians and chorus in the sacred plays of the Dionysia. Once erroneously called the Lantern of Demosthenes, the monument can still be seen in what is now known as Lysicrates Square in the Plaka neighborhood of Athens.

On our last day in Athens, we also saw the Greek monument to Lord Byron, located in a prominent place at the edge of the National Garden in the city center. It shows the maternal figure of Greece welcoming Byron as her own son. Our terrific guide on the Athens part of this trip, visibly emotional, said about the monument, "Lord Byron was one of the most important supporters of Greece during the fight for independence. For us, he is not British, he is Greek." Our guide also became quite sad as she recounted the story of Lord Elgin's deception, when he destroyed so many of the sculpted parts of the Parthenon, taking them down, cutting them into pieces, and taking them back to London. It was a catastrophe that Byron railed against in more than one of his poems. "We should not honor him by naming those sculptures the 'Elgin Marbles'," our guide added. "We should call them simply the sculptures of the Parthenon in Athens."

Briefly Noted: 'L'Aiglon'

Honegger/Ibert, L'Aiglon, A.-C. Gillet, M. Barrard, É. Dupuis, H. Guilmette, Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal, K. Nagano (released on March 4, 2016) Decca 00028947895060 | 92'26"

When Napoleon Bonaparte was driven from the imperial throne, he left his son, Napoleon II, with no path to succession. The young man, nicknamed "L'Aiglon" (the Eaglet), went to Austria to live with his mother's relatives, where he briefly attempted a military career before dying of tuberculosis when he was only 21. Edmond Rostand (Cyrano de Bergerac) wrote a play about the doomed young man, with the title character designed for and premiered by Sarah Bernhardt, en travesti, in 1900. An opera of the same title, premiered at the Opéra de Monte-Carlo in 1937, keeps the play's use of a trouser role for the title character, composed in tandem by Arthur Honegger (Acts II-IV) and Jacques Ibert (Acts I and V). As a joke, when asked about who had composed what parts of the opera, the composers replied, "One of us wrote the sharps, the other wrote the flats."

The story covers only the last year or so of Napoleon II's life, as he struggles to break free of the identity his Austrian relations have tried to give him, calling him Franz and granting him the title of Duke of Reichstadt. His valet, Séraphin Flambeau, is actually one of his father's former grenadiers, who encourages his employer's inclinations toward taking up his father's imperial standard again. The Eaglet agrees, which puts him in opposition to Metternich, who opposes any return of Napoleon's heir to France. In the France of 1937, that fight to maintain French identity in the face of Germanic domination was understandably relevant, and French revolutionary songs are woven into the ends of Acts II and IV. (By an odd coincidence, it was Adolf Hitler who ordered the remains of Napoleon II transferred to Les Invalides, to be placed next to those of his father.) The prettiest music, aside from some charmingly Vienn-easy waltzes by Ibert, including those composed to replace some cuts to Honegger's part of the score in Act III, is the angelic music that accompanies the Eaglet on his deathbed, including a touchingly harmonized version of the chant Ubi caritas.

While the cast is perhaps not stellar, with Anne-Catherine Gillet fervid but not always pretty at the top in the title role, Marie-Nicole Lemieux is a warmly maternal Marie-Louis, mother of Napoleon II. Hélène Guilmette is pretty as Thérèse de Lorget, Marie-Louise's lectrice who becomes the Eaglet's love interest, but Marc Barrard's Séraphin is not always sure, a wide vibrato obscuring the center of the pitch. As Metternich, Étienne Dupuis is the most impressive presence in the male cast, although the scene in which the valet tricks Metternich into thinking the Eaglet arriving is actually the Emperor Napoleon back from the dead, is slightly silly. Kent Nagano and the Orchestre Symphonique de Montréal revel in the French lightness of the score, in which Ibert's contributions outweigh those of Honegger.

Gustav Mahler – Symphony No.6 (Part 3)

Continued from: "Gustav Mahler — Symphony No.6 (Part 2)"

Gustav Mahler, Symphony No.6, H.v.Karajan / BPh DG

Karajan’s DG recording of the Sixth is his third-to-last Mahler recording and, along with the second Ninth, his best. Mahler was a composer to whom Karajan found only late in life… and ‘the later, the better’ fully applies to his Mahler recordings (the two to follow were the very special accounts of the Ninth) and this one could be in a category of its own. The approach to sound that he drilled into the Berlin Philharmonic, the insistence on absolute perfection (at least whenever in the recording studio), that polish, that well-oiled machine… it all works towards a truly spectacular Mahler experience. Surely on the clean side of the raw-genteel divide, it is probably the most propulsive of the “drool-free” versions. It is a little short on any particular Mahler-flavor but it more than makes up for that with its numerous other qualities. If you don’t have the splendid Christa Ludwig Rückert-Lieder and Kindertotenlieder from his studio recording of the 9^th, you can

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Gustav Mahler – Symphony No.6 (Part 2)

Continued from: "Gustav Mahler — Symphony No.6 (Part 1)"
Continued here: "Gustav Mahler — Symphony No.6 (Part 3)"

G.Mahler, Symphony No.6, B.Zander/Philharmonia Telarc

My preference has long been Benjamin Zander’s recording, whose ongoing cycle on Telarc (also available on SACDs) comes with a commentary disc discussing each symphony. These comments range from good and entertaining to revealing and insightful—and his commentary on the Sixth is particularly fine. The Telarc sound—here as on Yoel Levi’s recordings—is usually very good, too, and while the Sixth is not the strongest of his issues on that count, it’s still better than most contenders. Zander, who cares deeply about Mahler’s music, takes his time with the Sixth—but still gets tremendous excitement out of it and squarely falls down on the ‘raw’ side of interpretations. Everyone can program the movement order any way they wish—but Zander also offers choice when it comes to the Hammerblow ‘dilemma’. He recorded both versions (although being a firm believer in three, rather than two, such blows) on this two-disc set (plus one disc for the 80 minute commentary) that sells for the price of one. His heavy involvement in the music leaves fingerprints; there is some pulling of tempi that can strike one as self-conscious. It’s zany and neurotic and sometimes it

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