Musica Viva Hong Kong / Recenzii

The good news is that is Musica Viva’s four-performance run of Carmen was completely sold out. * * * George Bizet’s opera, precisely because it is well-known to the point of being iconic, presents a challenge. It can all too easily tip into cliché or routine. The challenge takes two forms: the first to keep the music fresh and, second, to bring out the dark psychological drama that underlies the familiar marches, gypsy dances and love duets. The tension of Carmen, why audiences keep on going back to it, lies precisely in this interplay between surface cliché and deeper truth.

120 years after the Metropolitan Opera in New York paired Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana and Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci in a single performance, the tradition of staging these representative works of verismo opera in a double bill continued this weekend with a production under the direction of Lo Kingman, Hong Kong’s home-grown doyen of opera. Towards the end of the 19th century, French and German composers had supplanted such Italian bel canto masters as Rossini, Bellini and Donizetti as dominant forces in the world of opera. For Italian composers, verismo opera, with its focus often on emotionally charged themes involving common folk, could well have been a conveniently populist shortcut to restoring their former glory. Although not quite one-hit wonders, Mascagni and Leoncavallo are at best talented exponents of a limited genre with only one work each which remains frequently performed today. The popularity of Cav & Pag, as the double bill has come to be known, owes as much to the works’ artistic merit as to their subject matter – infidelity, jealousy and revenge, topics which continue to fascinate the popular imagination. It’s Easter. Cavalleria Rusticana opens with a village girl, Santuzza, asking her fiancé Turiddu’s whereabouts of his mother Lucia at her wine shop. It turns out that Turiddu is in love with Lola, wife of Alfio, the village teamster. Turiddu pushes Santuzza to the ground when she confronts him about his infidelity. In her rage, Santuzza tips off Alfio about his wife cheating on him. Vowing revenge, Alfio kills Turiddu in a duel. For a work consumed by boiling passion, poisonous jealousy and ruthless retribution, the pace of the production on Saturday was slow. John Daniecki as Turiddu was spine-chillingly vicious, with a poignantly narrow but penetratingly clear voice to match. Baritone Grant Youngblood was a solidly vengeful Alfio. Janara Kellerman’s portrayal of the tragic victim Santuzza was one-dimensional and overwrought, and her voice was rough around the edges, palpably fractured in the transition between high and low notes. Although Melody Sze sang well, she was too genteel to be brazen as the cheating Lola. Pagliacci is a play within a play in which fantasy blends into reality. The commedia troupe that arrives in town prepares to put on a melodrama about two lovers conspiring to poison the woman’s husband. Canio, head of the troupe in the role as target of the lovers’ plot, happens in real life also to be the cuckolded husband of the woman playing one of the lovers, Nedda. Tonio, the fool, is a secret admirer of Nedda, but she spurns his advances. With love turning into vengeance, he tells Canio about Nedda’s tryst with Silvio, one of the villagers. Confusing his role in the play with real life, Canio forces Nedda to reveal the identity of her lover during the performance. He stabs her to death on stage when she refuses, and Silvio too when he reveals himself. The entire cast on Saturday put in a credible performance, but Jeffrey Hartman as Canio stood out. An angry bull to the red rag of Nedda’s adultery with Silvio, he could hardly contain his violent hurt, at one point throwing a plate into the orchestra pit. His full-bodied and expansive voice was expressive and flexible, exposing wild pangs of jealousy. Brian Montgomery’s Tonio was a strong performance, but could have been a little funnier. If it is true, as Director Lo Kingman says in a programme note, that “all artistic elements in an opera production must grow from the music”, the orchestral launching pad of the Hong Kong Virtuosi was underpowered. Bright sparks in individual playing, such as the harp in the opening serenade of Cavalleria, could not make up for the raw and immature tone of the orchestra. The real surprise, though, was the Opera Society of Hong Kong Chorus, providing mellow relief to the fiery emotions. Lo Kingman took a safe and well-trodden path in his production of the Cav & Pag verismo double-bill. With such well-crafted material, he could have taken more risks. In any case, ardent acting and high quality singing made for a decent evening of entertainment to ring in the New Year.

Written when the composer was just 12, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s La Finta Semplice qualifies as a real rarity. After a performance the year following its composition, it dropped from the repertoire and was not staged again until modern times. That Musica Viva’s recent production at Hong Kong’s City Hall was a premiere seems beyond doubt, the only question being over how large a geographical area The opera dates from 1768 when Leopold Mozart and his son were spending the year in Vienna. When the Emperor suggested that young Wolfgang, already renowned throughout Europe as a musical prodigy, might write an opera, his first, for performance in Vienna, Leopold chose La finta semplice (which might be translated as “The Fake Ingénue”), a Goldoni comedy which had been set to music and performed in Venice only four years before. After some further work by Florentine librettist Marco Coltellini, the not-yet-teen composer produced an opera fully three acts long. But all of Leopold’s plans fell through. It seems that certain members of Vienna’s musical establishment were unhappy about being possibly upstaged by a mere boy. Rumors were put about that the real composer was the father; the impresario found reasons to delay the production and the artists began to worry about their reputations. Leopold, alleging a conspiracy, pulled the plug and the pair returned to Salzburg, where the opera was finally performed the next year. It must be acknowledged that La Finta Semplice is not a great opera, but it is an astonishingly good one for a 12-year-old. Mozart’s older rivals had reason to be concerned. The story of multiple love affairs, deception, intricate plots, clueless yet overbearing men, put-upon and clever women is the sort of rom-com produced by the dozens in 18th-century Europe. And yet one can hear Mozart finding his voice, one that will be heard again, more developed and mature, in such later works as Le nozze di Figaro and Così fan tutte. Vicky Wu as Ninetta Vicky Wu as Ninetta Opera from Hong Kong’s leading companies now comes in two varieties: relatively large productions with, on the whole, international leads, and smaller productions cast entirely with local singers. One of the joys of these latter productions is the chance to hear fresh voices of young singers who might just be going places. Last night did not disappoint. In both voice and bearing, Vicky Wu sparkled as the maid Ninetta and Valentina Tao flirted and floated her way through the visiting Baroness Rosina’s high notes. Opening night was anchored by the (only relatively) more veteran mezzo Samantha Chong as Giacinta, the somewhat self-effacing sister of the two off-the-wall brothers Cassandro and Polidoro, Collette Lam as Rosina as Phoebe Tam as the maid Ninetta. As is often the case, the women get the better music and the more interesting characters, but Henry Ngan imbued the officer (and Rosina’s brother) Fracasso with some personality and was a dab hand with a sword. The casts were rounded out with Denis Lau and Bonnie Liu sharing the roles of Fracasso and Giacinta respectively; Law Kwok Ho and Frankie Fung shared the role of the elder brother Cassandro with Frankie Liu and Samson Chow alternated as the younger Polidoro. Alex Kwok and Pan Lo shared the role of Simone, Fracasso’s soldier sidekick who woos Ninetta. The opera was performed in the smaller of the two stages of Hong Kong City’s Hall, whose more intimate space suited the work. The simple staging, dominated by symmetrical planes parallel to stage, provided atmosphere without being intrusive.

When Micaëla comes on Act III, looking for the estranged Don José at the smugglers’ camp, she sings that Je dis que rien ne m’épouvante—“I tell myself that nothing will frighten me. One could sense, in this, its first full-staged production in eighteen months, Opera Hong Kong telling itself much the same thing opera Hong Kong’s travails, it must be remembered, didn’t start with the pandemic. Rigoletto, its last production to grace the Cultural Centre stage, was plagued by the city-wide protests which had resulted in closure of the venue just the week prior. This time, after months of cancellations and postponements, the company still had to navigate COVID-19 regulations for both audience and performers: overseas singers endured three weeks in quarantine—making the trip reminiscent in duration of the sea voyages of yore—rehearsing over Zoom, while the chorus and dancers performed fully-masked (to ward off the Spanish flu, perhaps). That the production was a revival of the company’s 2018 Carmen was itself more the result of serendipity than design: it was the work whose cast was ready and able to perform. Revivals are rare in Kong Hong. This sold-out run of Carmen, which makes use of a stylish rotating set, provides evidence of the concept’s viability. Mikheil Sheshberidze and Louise Kwong Mikheil Sheshberidze and Louise Kwong Opening night starred young Canadian soprano Carolyn Sproule in what is apparently a COVID-delayed role debut. Sproule’s rich low tones, as well as a sort of North American forthrightness, hearkened back to some Carmens of yesteryear, of a time when Marilyn Horne sang the part. Local favorite Louise Kwong shone as Micaëla; she had sung the role in 2016 with Musica Viva and then with the Opera di Roma where she had been part of the young artists programme. Georgian tenor Mikheil Sheshberidze was Don José and Belgian Pierre Doyen was a dashing and bright Escamillo. Among the supporting, Apollo Wong brought his mellifluous bass to Zuniga; he deserves larger roles. The three principals alternate with Polish soprano Gosha Kowalinska as Carmen, Irakli Kakhidze making a complete complement of Georgian Don José’s and Li Yang as Micaëla; Doyen sings throughout. Visiting Italian conductor Gianna Fratta cut a dash both in the pit and at curtain calls where, sporting silver in her braid and a bright red cummerbund, she gave Carmen a run for her money. Although a revival, the work was considerably re-staged, and simplified in the process. Gone were some of the more avant-garde elements, replaced with realism. Less can often be more; this is maybe one of those times. Opera Hong Kong has two more productions scheduled for the rest of the year: a semi-staged version of Bellini’s I Capuleti e i Montecchi over the summer and Madama Butterfly in the Autumn. May their luck hold.

Musica Viva’s new production of Norma—Vincenzo Bellini at his bel canto best—is perhaps an omen: it is just one letter shy of “normal”. This was not the first opera performance this year, but it was the first without masks on stage. Bellini is not often performed in Hong Kong; that the City Hall Concert Hall was about as full as the (relatively lenient) social distancing rules allow, is also a good sign. Although conditions in Hong Kong have eased, any production of this size requires planning many months in advance; scheduling it at all requires a considerable leap of faith. Hong Kong’s COVID regulations directly and indirectly caused casting difficulties, and all overseas singers had to persevere through a three-week mandatory quarantine. Any singer on stage had to want to be there; it showed. Hilary Ginther as Adalgisa Hilary Ginther as Adalgisa This was very much a traditional performance: no resettings away from the dark forests of Gaul to establish some elusive contemporary relevance; the “stand and up sing” moments were left as that. The title role was sung by young American soprano Meryl Dominguez, who had stepped into the opening night performance in a schedule change. If this, or the fact that it was her role debut, caused any jitters, none were evident. Hearing Norma sung by a singer not far off the age that the Celtic priestess herself would have been, lent a welcome freshness and immediacy to the part. Dominguez was well-matched by Hilary Ginther’s Adalgisa, very much the fetching ingénue. One can (almost) understand the Roman soldier Pollione’s switching his affections from the by now maternal Norma. But it was Dominguez and Ginther’s duets that were arguably the highlights of the evening: the pair’s relative youth added a lightness well-suited to who the characters actually are. Both were likeable, and hence believable. The men get short shrift in Norma. Neither the glorious music nor the robust singing from tenor Dominick Chenes can really do much to change the fact that Pollione is one of the least attractive characters in opera, without even much in the way of villainy to make up for his fecklessness and infidelity. At least he had the good grace to look appropriately terrified when confronted with Norma’s fury. Norma’s father Oroveso, sung by Puerto Rican bass Ricardo Lugo, is a somewhat stolid character, but has a sonorous bass aria that kicks off Act I. Among the local singers, tenor Henry Ngan continues to develop, with a strong presence in the smaller role of Flavio, Pollione’s sidekick. Collette rounded out the cast as Clotilde and Vivian Ip was in the pit.