"The 'Orfeo' Diaries": The Maestro speaks

In my opinion, there are many compositions in classical music that mark a turning point in a composer's musical direction. Some that immediately come to mind are Haydn's The Creation, where we leave the powdered wigs behind and the opening sounds more like Star Wars. Then there's Beethoven, in his Grosse Fuge and Missa Solemnis shaking his fists at the heavens and looking forward to the Romantic period.

With Orfeo ed Euridice, Gluck leads us inextricably from the late Baroque period toward Mozart and eventually, I believe, toward the verismo operas of Puccini and Verdi. He dispenses with unaccompanied recitation and instead has the orchestra accompany all of the recitatives. It's for this reason that instead of standing on the podium to conduct, I have chosen to lead from the harpsichord. If all my digits are in working order, I hope this will make the entire opera experience feel more intimate, more like "chamber music." 

The singers and chorus for this production are wonderful, not only vocally and dramatically, but fully immersed in the musical style of the late Baroque. In addition, we have two fabulous dancers that should add immeasurably to the visual experience of the audience.

Every day of rehearsing this masterpiece has been a joy for me; the music is filled with such pathos and longing.  Furthermore, in how many other operas does a character die not once but TWICE?....and still come back to life?

 

This may turn out to be the "surprise hit" of the season.  — Joel Revzen, conductor

"The 'Orfeo' Diaries": Understanding the Trouser Role

Goeldner as Octavian in "Der Rosenkavalier"

I guess it could be a bit confusing for an opera "newbie" to see me up there dressed as a man when I play Orfeo. "Honey, is that supposed to be a man or a woman? I don't get it!" It's an interesting opera tradition, for sure, this "gender-bending." And playing male roles is the bulk of most mezzos' careers, so I've done a lot of them.

The tradition stems from the 16th/17th centuries, when papal edicts forbade women to appear on stage. Instead, male castrati took on those roles. A brief explanation of this rather odd phenomenon: back in the day, in order to preserve a young boy's treble voice, he might be castrated before the onset of puberty, thus preventing his voice from changing. These "castrati" took on female—and later high male—roles in opera and became the rock stars of their day.  But understandably the fashion died out (thank goodness for the boys!), paving the way for women to take over these roles. Now, think of women's fashions at the time—corsets, layers of petticoats, heavy skirts. The female body was pretty much hidden. So a woman appearing as a man, in form-fitting breeches, revealing the shape of her legs and—ahem—posterior, definitely added an air of scandal to the show.

Mozart, Händel, Donizetti, even Verdi—they all continued to write male roles intended to be performed by women. The lower, warmer quality of the mezzo voice is well-suited to the adolescent/young man roles. Why not just use a boy or a young man then, you might ask? It's been done, e.g., Cherubino in The Marriage of Figaro. But you never know when a pre-teen boy's voice is going to change, so the houses that have tried this, like the Vienna State Opera, actually had a mezzo on standby every night, just in case. And because vocal cords aren't fully developed until well into your 20's or even later, a young man is simply not going to have the vocal strength to withstand the demands of an opera role.

You might be wondering by now how a woman like me goes about becoming a man on stage. Men of course have a different center of balance, different musculature, different method and speed of moving—all of which I take into account. I think of standing tall, with a lower, broader center of gravity, strong across the back and shoulders and "collecting" the body when I move. Of course, we're not really fooling anyone here—we do have to rely on the audience's willing suspension of disbelief! It's all part of the magic of an evening at the opera. — Mezzo-soprano Katharine Goeldner (Orfeo)

"The 'Orfeo' Diaries": Putting It Together

Don’t look now…

But we’re Orfeo to the races! As of today, I’ve been with Arizona Opera for exactly one month. At that time, I was dropped into the middle of Aida, which I was happy to revisit after having been in the chorus of the piece with the Atlanta Opera in 1996. Aida is exciting for all of its beauty and excess, but I’ll admit that I have a penchant for works that are a bit more classical in nature.

I think I’m instinctively drawn to the work of Gluck because I’m a complete devotee of Mozart’s work, and Gluck must have surely provided some musical influence for our good buddy Wolfgang. I’ve listened to Orfeo with libretto in hand several times in the last couple of weeks, and I was interested to see how our production would take shape! I was happy to discover how much life and emotion Gluck has packed into this score—and how deftly he passes musical ideas back and forth between the vocal and instrumental lines. I’m enough of a nerd to find it sooooo cool!

As one who started his musical life in the chorus, I was pleased to see that the fine AZO chorus is used to maximum advantage from the get-go, expertly telling the story with buckets of glorious sound and champion musicality. As rehearsals began this week, this smart group is being challenged physically and dramatically to activate this show, and they are responding beautifully to the vision of the director, Lillian Groag.

This week, I’m determined to spend more time in rehearsal watching our crack team of soloists attack this piece from the ground up. It’s always fun to watch artists at the top of their game peel away the layers in a piece this rich, and then put them back together in a fresh, cohesive way. Even though I know how the story ends, I can’t wait to see what happens next!  — Ryan Taylor, Director of Artistic Administration

"The 'Orfeo' Diaries": Day One Rehearsal

Wednesday was the first day of rehearsals for Arizona Opera's Orfeo ed Euridice.  For me, the first rehearsal day for a show feels similar to the first day of school.  Some faces might be familiar, and perhaps I may have even worked with some of the artists in the past; but it is the "getting to know" you stage of the process.  Can you imagine having a first day of school every month or two?!  Strangely enough, it is one of the reasons I love my job.

We started the day by "running the music," which meant that the three principal characters (Orfeo, Euridice, and yours truly) sat down with our conductor and a pianist to sing through the entire opera.  It was a working session, so we stopped and started often, settling on tempi, figuring out transitions from scene to scene, and getting to know each others' voices, styles, and personalities.  Orfeo ed Euridice also has a lot of recitative (speech-like singing), so we had plenty to discuss regarding the flow of those sections.  Emotions can run high at times, and there was some heated debate about the interpretation of certain moments.  But it is natural, and inspiring to me, when people come to the table with opinions and ideas.  After all, everyone involved has been studying this opera for weeks, months, and even years before walking into the door for the first rehearsal! 

Another one of the reasons that I dedicated my life to opera, though, is the collaborative effort it requires.  All of the people involved (the ones you see on stage as well as all the folks who are toiling away behind the scenes) come together to create an experience that will, hopefully, move each audience member who witnesses a performance.  And Orfeo ed Euridice is about a reality that every single person will experience at some point in his or her life: the death of someone you love.

Next up, getting up from the chairs and "staging" the show…  — Rebecca Sjöwall (Amore)

Director Lillian Groag brings her vision of Gluck's "Orfeo ed Euridice"—"this most tranquil and optimistic of operas"—to Arizona Opera

Whenever I prepare a new production, I ask myself, “Why do this opera/play today?”  CDs abound if one wants a pleasant listen, glass of sherry in hand.  But what does it have to say to us now?  What’s it about, other than an opportunity to make “innovative” production choices?  And in this particular case, how do we communicate this most tranquil and optimistic of operas—composed almost 250 years ago and, most eminently, a product of its age—to an audience bombarded by media, three-second sound bites, deafening sound effects and daily news of terrorism and war?
 
There are four main characters in Gluck’s opera: Orfeo, Euridice, Love … and the chorus, or the community. The story tells us how they are affected by the loss of one among them, the grieving process, ensuing solace and a return to life. It’s about a community and its artist(s) dealing with the unimaginable: Death and, in the Calzabigi-Gluck version (as opposed to the traditional myth), humans actually coming out winners.

And that was the hard dramaturgical question: if Euridice comes back to life a second time, the iconic myth is dismantled and loses all meaning... at first sight. At the core of the problem is the puzzle of this Western theme about “not looking back.” It seems to be closely related to the “not seeking to know” dictum. Orfeo must not look back at Euridice after bringing her back to life; Lot’s wife must not look back to Gomorrah going up in smoke just as Psyche must not look at Eros after making love; Semele must not look at Jupiter; Elsa mustn’t ask Lohengrin’s name on their wedding night; the fairy Melusine’s husband must not look at her at night (well, she’s a Serpent during those hours, which might send the poor chap screaming into the night), etc. There are a myriad variations on this theme in our fairy tales and mythologies. But myths without profound meaning don’t take hold in cultures . What is the meaning of this one?

It seems to have to do with a failure of faith, the greatest sin in all theologies. Let us not forget that Socrates was condemned to death for impiety, lest we wax romantic about the Classical Greeks’ enlightened mindset. Calzabigi’s and Gluck’s worldview was Christian— most particularly, Catholic— and Catholic theology, unlike pagan theology, contains the possibility of redemption through suffering.  Hades, for the ancient Greeks, did not contain a heaven or a hell and so, by extension, no Purgatory. Hades was the Underworld, the world of the Shadows, from where “no voyager returned.” Yet the Furies’ words in this opera imply that they are expiating transgressions—as in the old Purgatory notion—which might be a first sign of the possibility of Euridice’s final resurrection through the appalling suffering of Orfeo. (It was his fault she died a second time.) Thus it reminds the audience of the hope on which Christianity is based and thrived in the Western world.

Performances of "Orfeo ed Euridice" are Apr. 13-15 in Phoenix, Apr. 21 & 22 in Tucson.  For tickets, go to  www.azopera.org or call 602.266.7464 or 520.293.4336.

I don’t hold spiritual beliefs of any kind, but I do see this as a profoundly Christian version of the pagan story. I think it incumbent for directors not to impose their personal views on a piece of theater if they contradict the original intent of its creators. I see Elysium as the 18th-century Enlightenment’s vision of a Good Life: all arts, sciences and crafts applied in a peaceful society where harmony was the goal. The world of the Furies is that place where the unquiet souls reside and who are comforted and solaced by Orfeo’s Music.  Music alone cannot relieve suffering but, in acknowledging it, can bring a degree of understanding—and so, comfort—to the suffering human heart. And isn’t that the function of all Art?  — Lillian Groag

Q&A with "Aida"'s Lisa Daltirus

Soprano Lisa Daltirus has made Aida a signature role with performances at some of the world's top opera houses, as well as New York's Carnegie Hall and Avery Fisher Hall.  From March 3-11, she and Mary Elizabeth Williams share the part of the captive Ethiopian princess at Arizona Opera.

Both Daltirus and Williams return to Arizona Opera after garnering critical acclaim in the Company’s 2009 production of Tosca.  As Daltirus explains in this interview, the role of Aida is among the most demanding—and rewarding—for sopranos.
 

Q: What drew you to opera growing up?

A: While growing up in Plainfield, N.J., my life was centered around church choir, youth group and performing arts programs after school.  I studied dance for eight years—ballet, tap and jazz. I took piano lessons for the same.

Opera came more as an epiphany in my senior year of high school.  I always sang but was more interested in drama/acting.  When the "light bulb" came on, I knew I had a more classic-sounding voice and felt the marriage of my voice and acting would be opera.

Soprano Lisa Daltirus, Arizona Opera's Aida

Q: What do you enjoy most about performing Verdi?

A:  Verdi calls for a lot of versatility from the lead characters. He employs a large vocal range, dynamics, legato, coloratura and more in his composition.  It is very challenging and rewarding to accomplish.  His operas have many intimate moments as well as large choral scenes.  It's always a great musical experience.

Q:  What's the hardest part in portraying Aida?

A:  Portraying the role of Aida is challenging to convey both the slave that she is to Amneris while concealing the underlying fact that she is a princess.  I feel this fact is what keeps her intriguing to both Amneris and Radames.  It is interesting to portray her emotions and ultimate decision regarding pursuing love or loyalty to country. 

Q:  What do you think has made Aida such a popular opera?

A:   First, it is set in an exotic location.  It is always interesting to see the set design and for the audience to be able to "transport" themselves to ancient Egypt.  Secondly, the spectacle of the Triumphal Scene is always exciting as it incorporates a large chorus, dancers and, whenever possible, some animals.  Most importantly, there are arias and scenes for the lead characters that are well known to opera audiences. It creates anticipation as the opera unfolds.

Q:  What role have you not performed that you would like to?

A:  There are many but of the Verdi repertoire it would be Elisabetta in Don Carlo and Leonore in La Forza del Destino.

Q:  When you aren't on tour, where do you live? What do you enjoy in your free time?

A:  I live in suburban Philadelphia, Pa. and I spend most of my home time attending to the advancement and care of my children: Lea, who is 18, and Demetrius, who is 16.  

I am also very involved in my church. I am a good cook and I enjoy teaching voice when I get the opportunity.

Director John Hoomes believes that for all of its pomp and grandeur, "Aida" is really a chamber opera

Act II Triumphal March

In November 1869, Khedive Ismail, the ruler of Egypt (who three years later would contribute handsomely to the fund for Wagner's theater in Bayreuth), announced plans to open a new opera house in Cairo as part of the celebrations surrounding the opening of the Suez Canal. He asked Verdi to compose an "inaugural hymn" for its opening night, which was planned for November 1870. Verdi was not too happy with this idea, and declined. But he was enthusiastic when an alternative suggestion was proposed; he would compose an opera based on an ancient Egyptian subject. And Verdi’s Aida was a huge smash hit for everyone involved.

Just as Aida was becoming a worldwide success, Verdi created an official production book to show other producers how the opera should be done. This book detailed approved stage plans, scenic positioning, and instructions for every move and gesture, down to the placement of the chorus. The production book also included such practical tips as how to extinguish any gas flame jets that might set fire to Amneris when she entered in the last scene in her long mourning veil. By creating this production book, Verdi felt secure that when Aida was staged, he had laid out the ground plan for that production’s success. By Verdi’s insistence that someone follow every little detail, he helped create a position which was relatively new in opera at the time -- the Stage Director.

Arizona Opera presents "Aida" for the first time in over a decade

The opera Aida has now become synonymous with the term “Italian Grand Opera”. On the surface, that is certainly true, but it’s not really fair to the work, or what Verdi strove so lovingly to create. The opera may often be seen as a type of Cecil B. DeMille juggernaut that encompasses all of Egypt (and often a few rented camels). But at its heart, Aida is actually an intimate chamber opera about the intense love triangle between the three central characters. The opera just happens to have a giant parade running smack down the middle. 

For all the opera’s pomp and grandeur, the show really comes to life if the character relationships are clearly defined, and if the characters become…well…human. One of our goals in this production is to do just that. Love and passion have not changed over the centuries and opera, as an art form, offers long standing proof.  -- JOHN HOOMES

Performances are March 3 & 4 at Tucson Music Hall and March 9-11 at Phoenix Symphony Hall