Although it was a Saturday matinée, I had to get dressed up (fittingly, of course, for the afternoon) for this performance. I was, after all, going to the Met, arguably the most glamorous of all opera houses in the world. La Scala, La Fenice, l’Opéra (nowadays Bastille), the Staatsopers Berlin and Vienna, the Semperoper Dresden, to name only the most obvious, are high temples of operatic art, no one can deny that. But the Met is more than just a venue for magnificent opera productions, it is the Hollywood of opera houses.
Not only that, but it is also the most magnificently haunted of all opera houses. So many cherished ghosts, dead and alive, inhabit that stage – a thought most certainly evoked by the proximity of Halloween! Impossible to name them all, but those who immediately come to my mind are sopranos Lily Pons, Maria Callas, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Lisa della Casa, Renata Tebaldi, Bidú Sayão, Licia Albanese, Zinka Milanov, Geraldine Farrar, Birgit Nilsson, tenors Enrico Caruso, Richard Tucker, Beniamino Gigli, Carlo Bergonzi, Luciano Pavarotti, baritones Robert Merrill and Walter Berry, basses Cesare Siepi, Salvatore Baccalone, Ezio Pinza, conductors Arturo Toscanini, Erich Leinsdorf, Karl Böhm. A whole book could be filled with their histories at the Met. Of course, I was not around to see all of them there, but I was lucky enough, in my early twenties, to see one of the last performances at the old Met, on Broadway, an unforgettable Don Giovanni with Cesare Siepi in the leading role, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf as Donna Elvira, Teresa Stritch-Randall as Donn’Anna, Geraint Evans as Leporello, Jan Peerce as Don Ottavio and Rosalind Elias as Zerlina and all of them under the stately baton of Karl Böhm. This is, at least, what I remember, and it might not be totally accurate. But I hope it was, as this was certainly a dream cast, and my memory is of a glittering performance.
Back to 2011 and to the Saturday matinée performance of that jewel of an opera, the Barber! How many Barbieres has one seen in one’s long life? Five or six. How many recordings has one heard, at least ten. How often does one sing “Una voce poco fa” in the shower, thousands of times! So, what happens next? One goes to the performance in a slightly blasé, prejudiced and, let’s face it, arrogant mood. Let’s see if they can surprise me, haha!
After climbing the stairs to operatic Eden, with all the Swarowski chandeliers gleaming and the red velvet glowing, we – Oboe d’Amore is with me today, I’m happy to say – sit in the Dress Circle, with a great view although a little far. It’s not easy to get tickets at the Met, and when they are available, they are either not the best or atrociously expensive – $ 450 for ONE ticket is a little more than I feel decent to spend. Onkel Heinz, the sage, was perfectly right when he said that Berlin was so much more pocket-friendly. The best seat at the Staatsoper is around 85 euros, or US$ 120, which is what the least expensive cost at the Met. There is no such thing as a free Paradise.
The small (this is Rossini, remember) orchestra is already in the pit, and from the Dress Circle, you get to see it very well. Conductor Maurizio Benini soon follows – I am ashamed to confess I have never heard of him. The first strains of the Overture transport me to a spa-like setting, it could be Baden-Baden, Vichy, or Montecatini, and the orchestra in the gazebo is playing Rossini. Come to think of it, it is the right sound for the Barbiere, light and sparkling, like the waters. The playful and pleasant tone would remain throughout the opera, and certainly enhanced the buffa atmosphere.
An auspicious beginning, followed by perfection in directing and the sets. Yes, this Bartlett Sher-Michael Yeargan 2006 production definitely has something new to say, although it is very fortunately far from avant-garde. I had my share of avant-garde opera in Germany, with very mixed results (read my review of Carmen at the Staatsoper!). This is simply beautiful and ingenious, with eighteenth century doors moving around to form exterior façades and interior settings, according to the necessities of the libretto. Very simple, very clean and totally enchanting.
Of course, the opera itself is as enchanting as it gets. It is witty comedy, a foretaste of Feydeau and Noel Coward, set to sublime music. All the parts are marvelous, but the prize goes not to Figaro, but to Almaviva, who, in the right body and voice can be a gem of a part. Who can resist the “Pace e gioia”, one of the funniest moments in opera? Don Bartolo and Don Basilio also have great arias, and then there is Rosina, the supreme coquette, who will have a reversal of fortune in the sequel. Actually, the Barber is a prequel, just like the Star Wars trilogy.
The singers were rather unequal, but no one disastrous. Figaro I did not like, he was rather boring and his voice nothing special. Almaviva, the Mexican tenor Javier Camarena, did a good job although he really doesn’t have le physique du rôle.
Mezzo Isabel Leonard sung and acted a perfect Rosina. But didn’t I mention live ghosts in an earlier paragraph? Who do you think sung Don Basilio? The formidable Met legend, Samuel Ramey, I could hardly believe my eyes and ears. I remember him as the best Mephistopheles ever in a sensational Art Déco Faust at the Opéra Bastille. He is still a good singer, and La Callunia is a great aria, but it does seem like a small part for a huge singer.
All in all, this was a very auspicious start to what I hope will be a frequent flyer programme at the Met. Stay put for the next leg: Don Giovanni! Will it live up to the ideal set in 1966 on Broadway? I will not fail to let you know.