Teatro Colón / Recensioner

Laura Pisani ha interpretato la Regina della Notte con indiscutibile professionalità. Ha un bel colore, una grande fluidità, un centro potente e gli acuti che bisogna avere per la parte. Lucas Debevec Mayer è stato un ottimo Sarastro ed è stato molto corretto come Oratore cantato fuori scena e con amplificazione.

Un huevo frito golpea la ventana. Ah, no, era un cuervo. Pero no, el cuervo es la mujer que canta. Entonces, ¿quién irrumpe en el mundo de quién? Mal podría acusarse a una interpretación por antojadiza. Ya se sabe, de eso se tratan las interpretaciones. Pero pocas veces como en esta versión del extraordinario monodrama de Toshio Hosokawa que acaba de estrenarse en el CETC (Centro de Experimentación del Teatro Colón) la impecable altura de los aspectos musicales, la implacable construcción de la obra y, lejos del último lugar en importancia, la inquietud que atraviesa al texto se vieron tan entorpecidas por una puesta en escena.

"..Los personajes coprimarios estuvieron excelentemente cubiertos: el Valentín de Felipe Carelli y el Siebel de Daniela Prado fueron el resultado del trabajo de dos estupendos jóvenes intérpretes que están en su treintena.."

Una gratísima sorpresa el debut de Germán Alcántara en el teatro con Belcore. Alcántara es argentino y reside en Londres, ganó varios premios internacionales como el primer premio en la categoría barítono en el José Carreras Grand Prix 2021 de la Fundación Elena Obraztsova en Moscú; y el tercer premio y premio del público en la competencia Tenor Viñas 2021 en Barcelona. Su carrera está en sus inicios, pero su calidad vocal, su volumen, la perfecta gradación de las intensidades y su perfecto histrionismo le permitieron brindar un Belcore de verdadero lujo.

The version offered was clearly very satisfactory and its main strengths were the visuals, the solid preparation and the choice of the cast. Marcelo Perusso in his multiple duties as stage director, set designer and costume designer, served with excellence the work of which he is a librettist. The acting movement was coherent and precise. The timeless setting with stone columns and the clever use of the revolving stage served perfectly to frame each of the scenes. The wardrobe is beautiful and the lighting by Rubén Conde is plastically perfect. The choreographic movements of Guillermina Tarsi are adequate. The vocal cast was well-rounded, solid, homogeneous and with perfect diction and preparation. Alejandra Malvino was a Fedra of vocal excellence and expressive intensity. At his side, Daniela Tabernig's Aricia shone, offering the most lyrical moments of the work at the beginning of the second act. He effectively accompanied the tenor Marcelo Puente in the complex role of Hipólito. While sober and effective was Leonardo Estévez as Theseus. Haydée Dabusti overcame the nurse's complicated handwriting with vocal integrity and with careful correction created the minor roles Florencia Machado (Selene), Alicia Alduncín (Hécate) and Gustavo Feulien (Theramens). On the podium the composer himself conducted with sobriety, clarity and precision. The balance between the pit and the stage was perfect and at no time was the voices covered up in a work of abundant percussion and enormous timbral richness. Very good was the response from the Stable Orchestra.

The production makes little attempt to re-create 1stcentury Rome and instead it is suggested in the setting, which is dominated by a stadium-like tiered bank of plastic chairs, on which different groups of spectators move and sit and the nude Drusila (Caligula’s now dead sister and lover) wanders – a concept that works well, in making these spectators part of the action while at the same time drawing in the audience. In such a context modern day dress is of course de rigueur, with Caligula’s Act 3 drag outfit and Helicon’s toga also entirely in keeping. Ira Levin, who holds the position of invited principal director of the Colón orchestra, was in complete command, providing a fluent and well balanced playing from the augmented orchestra. Peter Coleman-Wright gave a masterly – if obviously older than 30 years – performance as Caligula, effectively conveying the perversity and absurdity of the character. Yvonne Howard was similarly effective as Caesonia, particularly her distracted approach to Caligula’s goings on in the first half. Martin Wölfel’s voice was just right for Helicon and after Jurgita Adamonyte’s Scipio, look forward to seeing her in the completely different role of Idamante later in the year. Good work too from Héctor Guedes (Cherea), Fernando Chalabe (Mucius), Victor Torres (Mereia and Lepidus) and Marisú Pavón (Livia), and from the young actress Lara Tressens (Drusila), as apparition-like as she could be, who didnt take a curtain call.

Argentine stage director Marcelo Lombardero answered Parsifal's enigmatic question of “Who is the Grail?” by literally replacing the mythical chalice with the suffering celebrant: a blood-stained Amfortas was lifted by ropes and hooks several feet above the proscenium during the consecration in Act I. His Christ-like body shone in contrast to the darkness of the abandoned power plant chosen by the Knights (dressed as contemporary soldiers in combat fatigues) to celebrate their ritual. The ceremony was ordered by a Titurel in military uniform projected in an old-fashioned newsreel onto a small screen at the back of the stage. No Argentine would have failed to associate Amfortas’s pain with the tortures suffered by political prisoners not very long ago. A further updating of the Grail myth to uncomfortable domestic realities was the staging of the outside world surrounding the temple. It consisted of a desolate forest of ruined buildings, among them the courtyard of a forsaken hotel beside a sombre lagoon where Gurnemanz had taken refuge. Lombardero tells me that this eerie landscape evokes the environmental apocalypse suffered by Epecuén, a spa town south of Buenos Aires, flooded in 1985 when an adjacent salt lake burst its banks after a long period of rain. The video accompanying the interlude leading to Act I’s second scene showed the remains of Epecuén after the waters receded nearly twenty-five years later. In Act III, redemption was in the air when green buds timidly started emerging in the courtyard, as if summoned by the Good Friday music. The glowing end was staged as a ritual shared not only with the Knights, but also with the audience: a spotlight left the stage to wander around the hall, stopping on a young child standing in the middle of the stalls. At that moment, the Knights suddenly advanced to the edge of the proscenium to sing their final ecstasy. Against this landscape of suffering and redemption, Klingsor's illusory world in Act II is a gigantic transparent globe with esoteric graphs projected from the iPad of a magician in a smart grey suit. Inside this bubble, flower maidens wearing leotards with thin LED lights running from shoulder to ankle rehearsed their enticements in mechanical contortions rigorously synchronized with the score. Real seduction was then practiced by Kundry on a Parsifal sitting on Klingsor’s throne as if on a shrink's sofa. After kissing him, Kundry immediately took some distance to observe his reaction, as if hoping for the refusal needed to enable her own salvation. Then Parsifal fell to his knees and the bubble burst and fell apart. A solid cast was assembled to cope with four performances over only seven days. Christopher Ventris sang a sharply-focused Parsifal, and convincingly acted Lombardero's proposal for an initially untidy and afterwards soberly self-contained redeemer. Stephen Milling was a forceful Gurnemanz, whose polished phrasing was replete with meaningful emphasis. Nadja Michael excelled as Kundry thanks to her richly, sensual voice and superb dynamic control and Héctor Guedes sang Klingsor with a deep voice and penetrating phrasing. Finally, Ryan McKinny's Amfortas was simply irresistible in his heart-breaking plea as the human Grail at the heart of this insightful and moving production.

On the nights of February 19 and 20, a large audience gathered at the Teatro Colón in Buenos Aires. The composer Rufus Wainwright presented Prima Donna there , in a so-called visual-symphonic concert. The orchestra led by Bernardo Teruggi took place on the huge stage with their curtains drawn up. The three solo singers were also placed there. In the background, a giant screen announced that it would be in charge of providing images. The show presented as a symphonic-visual concert was intended to interpret some fragments of Wainwright's opera . There were three singing athletes who delved into the characters of the play. A precise lighting accompanied them in their singing moments. The musical writing of the parts played is complicated and at the same time very classical. The melody arises with some ease although the singers must fight a continuous battle between high frequencies of great extension. Guadalupe Barrientos , mezzo-soprano, sang with poise and excellent schooling. His phrasing was crisp and convincing. The soprano Oriana Favero maintained an exquisite singing line and gave the required highs with intensity. The tenor Carlos Ullán knew how to maintain a dialogue with a precise singing line. The texts, in excellent French, also appeared in our language. It is necessary to remember that they were only parts of the opera Prima Donna And so I will briefly describe the argument. Wainwright conceived his presentation as a visual symphonic concert. The singers must fully immerse themselves in three characters in the drama. A singer named Regine Saint Laurent struggles to return to the stage with the role of Eleanor of Aquitaine. The big screen shows scenes from a movie where that soprano appears. She is an older woman who struggles between her artistic cravings and lost beauty. The composer thought of everything as a tribute to María Callas . Some photographs of him appear but we know well that Callas retired from the stage with glory. His dedication to teaching singing was a paragon of virtuosity and he knew how to faithfully transmit what he learned from the great Elvira de Hidalgo along with his own great insights. After the visual symphonic concert, Wainwright performed on piano and sang some of his own songs. For this he covered himself with a large operatic cape with bright gold. Pop music thus invaded the august room of the Colón . The public apparently showed greater enthusiasm for these works. In my opinion, he did not judge the orchestra and the three outstanding singers who gave life to the few scenes of the opera Prima Donna . The echoes of this symphonic-visual concert that have appeared in the media especially mention its second part. I remember that the Metropolitan of New York did not accept Prima Donna . Apparently the objection came from the French. Anyway, in the middle of the Buenos Aires summer, there were many who gathered at the Colón.

The production was very much a ‘period’ one, dark reflecting the night time, with an airfield like building on one side and a three storey ‘operations centre’ on the other, and with a fence between separating the officials from the public. Projections added to the stormy mood. Il prigioniero (The prisoner), on the other hand, was given a more modern production, even though the setting is much earlier – in the second half of the 16th century. The work, which dates from 1948, portrays a tortured prisoner who is given the means to escape, only to wonder if he might not find his liberty in death at the stake. The connection in this case is rather by association, with the events under the military rule of the late 1970s and early 1980s. The setting used was the same as Volo di notte, although less obviously relevant in this context, and with the addition of a large rotating central cube representing the prisoner’s cell and torture room as the focus of events. Likewise similar and appropriately dark lighting. But there also was the odd addition of acrobatic dancers, supposedly representative of angels of death of that military dictatorship, but ultimately a distraction rather than an addition. Both conveyed well the events and feelings being portrayed with the differences between the two sufficient to well distinguish them. This was also due in no small measure to the two casts. In Volo di notte particularly notable were Daniela Tabernig as the missing airman’s increasingly desperate wife and Victor Torres – unfortunately lost under the orchestra at times – as the insistent but ultimately responsible Riviere. Adrian Mastrangelo well portrayed the Mother in Il prigioniero and Leonardo Estevez was an outstanding prisoner. Christian Baldini showed an affinity with Dallapiccola’s scores, with their varying and complex textures and the chorus responded well.

The main ideas of the Chamber Opera are to reach the public in other areas and promote young artists. The key to the cast is their homogeneity, their youth and their scenic availability. In turn, the passage through various fields, not necessarily linked to opera, generates a welcome renewal of the public. For this version he or n of or pear Salieri, Diego Cosin in the stage direction raised a comic aesthetics were taxed, achieving a very good management of theatrical actions, a perfect characterization of the characters and an attractive visual result. Gastón Joubert's scenography with some vague tendency to Ancient Greece was perfect, while Natalio Ríos's projections gave the scenes a changing frame with intelligence and clarity. With the usual quality of Rubén Conde's lighting, while Isabel Guai's wardrobe was ingenious and adapted to the general aesthetic, a separate paragraph deserves the excellently made hairstyles. Martín Sotelo conducted the orchestral ensemble with a sure hand, with good results and adequate stylistic coherence. Of the vocal cast, the homogeneity stood out and if someone had to be highlighted it could be Victoria Gaeta (Dori) for her quality and musical security and her scenic ease. Trinidad Goyeneche (Ofelia) had a poised performance, Walter Schwarz gave authority to the father of the lovers (Aristone), Luciano Miotto was a powerful Trofonio, while Josué Miranda (Artemidoro) and Mariano Fernández Bustinza (Plistene) contributed well-timbred voices and of expressive saying to characterize the two lovers.

While this performance was not always perfect, it was proof that Catán’s score needs to be heard and one that should get more attention around the world. For now, the Teatro Colón has a solid production that is worth seeing.

The second part of the concert opens up a new horizon for this French-style garden from beyond the Rhine: the performance of Schumann's Symphony No. 2 further strengthens an impression that has been established until then. The Orquesta Filarmónica de Buenos Aires responds to the letter to all of Manuel Hernández-Silva's requests and gives them warm applause.

Musically the production was in the hands of Alejo Pérez, who brought a correct reading of the colourful and melodic score. The cast, like the production, was a local one, apart from the role of the Composer, which was well sung by America mezzo Jennifer Holloway and that of Zerbinetta. Russian soprano Ekaterina Lekhina gave a brilliant account of her famous aria ‘Grossmächtige Prinzessin’ but came across as somewhat brittle in her acting. As the Prima Donna – with her poodle in the Prologue – and Ariadne, Carla Filipcic Holm brought power and beauty of line to the role and Gustavo López Manzitti was up to the demands of the Tenor and Bacchus. Hernán Iturralde was a solid Music Master and likewise Pablo Urban as the Dance Master and the three players – Luciano Garay, Santiago Martinez, Iván Garcia – and three nymphs – Laura Pisani, Florencia Machado, Victoria Gaeta – well played their respective roles.

The six soloists demonstrate, both on stage and on screen, solid acting skills and seem to have obviously taken a certain pleasure in recording the making of projected on the background screen. The disarticulated triptych formed by the parents and the daughter concentrates an important part of the dramatic action. At its head, soprano Sabrina Cirera (Rosine) develops the dry, strong but pitted voice of a hysterical, indecisive and authoritarian mother. Equipped with an elegant vibrato, its colors are tapered and held with ease. The tenor Carlos Ullán uses a high voice, tense as of an animated and inspired theatrical game to plant the embittered character of the father (Alfred) and his relational discomfort, stuck between his wife and his daughter. Laura Pisani's performanceis noticed as much by her limpid and bittersweet inflections as by the virginal freshness of her soprano voice (supposed to be that of Antoinette, a teenager) which imprints her character's gaze on her family and, more generally, on the work itself. From where this good-natured impression which emerges and authorizes laughter, even if the cruelty of the child, animated by hatred towards his parents, sometimes has the appearance of a game of massacre towards them. This trio sees three other characters revolving around him who share their daily life: the mezzo-soprano Alejandra Malvino is Miss Betty, the Teacher, and has a high, bright and clear voice. The timbre, playing on fine nuances in the phrasing, is pleasant and varied depending on the situation. Víctor torressings the role of Georges, the Butler who has a relationship with Betty unmasked by Antoinette. He vibrates his baritone voice, deep, wide and ample, to show his bows and his double playing. The soprano Marisú Pavón finally plays Isabelle, Piano teacher and Antoinette's aunt. The voice of her character, deliberately erratic and tumultuous, is leaping, sometimes strident: it is that of an ironic and caustic gossip. It should be noted that this vocal plateau does not shine by its pronunciation of French: the spectator even takes a certain time before guessing which language the libretto is. The great Hall of the Colón , packed, reserves a very contrasting and unadulterated welcome to this spectacle which leaves no one indifferent, between angry premature desertion and prolonged sustained applause.

The professionalism of the vocal stage, almost exclusively made up of students, is immediately apparent. These young solo singers, like the dancers very involved in their tasks, receive strong applause which attests to the excellent performance of their performance and their ability to captivate an audience in search of new emotions

The show, received with great enthusiasm, is partly due to the strength of these young singers, all very invested in their role. But it is also the daring staging of Julián Ignacio Garcés that is hailed. The plastic beauty and ingenuity of the scenic design, minimalist and inscribed in a multitude of nuances under skilful play of lights (Verónica Alcoba), from mouse gray to anthracite gray, strike the viewer.

Absolute revelation is the Norwegian Lise Davidsen, who puts her voice of amazing flow and dynamic and expressive resources at the service of her Isabella (the "novice from Palermo" of the original title). Also dazzling, vocally and by humor, the bass Christian Hübner, a delicious Brighella