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The trouble with Rossini
The Met's "Armida' in HD transmission
Steve Cohen
During Gioacchino Rossini's lifetime (1792-1868) and for 100 years thereafter, his operas were thought of as an assortment of interchangeable parts. Rossini himself often took overtures and arias from some of his works and put them into others.
Sometimes new Rossini productions consisted entirely of music from his earlier operas. One such was Robert Bruce (1846), which included scenes from his earlier Armida of 1817. On other occasions, opera producers selected a batch of Rossini tunes and stitched them together into ballets.
But in the latter half of the 20th Century, bel canto scholarship led to "authentic" revivals of many Rossini operas and to the performance of "complete" versions. This practice has culminated in this season's Metropolitan Opera premiere of Armida, which received ten performances and will be re-broadcast to cinemas nationwide on May 19 (May 22 in Canada).
After seeing the high-definition screening intended for movie houses, I wonder if Rossini's contemporaries had the right idea after all. In Armida, wonderful scenes alternate with long patches of lesser interest.
Falling for a Crusader
Armida is a fantastical story about an alluring sorceress, set outside Jerusalem during the Crusades. It features a soprano role with florid coloratura, huge vocal leaps and stormy expressions of rage. No wonder Renée Fleming wanted to sing it.
The plot is this simple: As the Crusaders attack Jerusalem, Armida plans to destroy them by enchantment but falls in love with their leader instead.
Fleming's beautiful singing and appearance make this an event worth seeing in its encore presentations (and eventually on home TV). Fleming was especially brilliant in her long final scene, which calls for rich legato singing as well as flashy ornamentation. Lawrence Brownlee was impressive as Armida's lover and rival. An unusual trio for tenors was rewarding as well.
Bass-baritone Keith Miller, an Academy of Vocal Arts alumnus who has become one of the Met's most valuable supporting players, was almost unrecognizable in an outfit that seemed part devil and part animal, yet his dark voice stood out.
When this opera is performed again, however, trimming and cutting wouldn't be out of order.
Where's the magic?
I'm not one of the traditionalists who routinely bash director Mary Zimmerman's innovative stagings. I admired her direction of Metamorphoses on Broadway and Lucia di Lammermoor at the Met. Her conception of Armida, though, seemed too cautious, and short on fantasy and magic. The men's clunky costumes were inappropriate for Crusaders. The symbolic creatures and flowers were pretty, but the production lacked much in the way of a "wow" factor, despite the presence of Lion King designer Richard Hudson and the excellent choreographer Graciela Daniele.
Oddly, this production makes no effort to capture the milieu of the Middle East"“ not even an exotic, fairy-tale evocation of that part of the world. The set was mundane, with the players surrounded by plain white walls on top of which were perched silent creatures representing Love and Revenge. They distracted my attention while adding little to the story.
Armida offers great moments, especially in the final act. But it takes a long time to get there.
Sometimes new Rossini productions consisted entirely of music from his earlier operas. One such was Robert Bruce (1846), which included scenes from his earlier Armida of 1817. On other occasions, opera producers selected a batch of Rossini tunes and stitched them together into ballets.
But in the latter half of the 20th Century, bel canto scholarship led to "authentic" revivals of many Rossini operas and to the performance of "complete" versions. This practice has culminated in this season's Metropolitan Opera premiere of Armida, which received ten performances and will be re-broadcast to cinemas nationwide on May 19 (May 22 in Canada).
After seeing the high-definition screening intended for movie houses, I wonder if Rossini's contemporaries had the right idea after all. In Armida, wonderful scenes alternate with long patches of lesser interest.
Falling for a Crusader
Armida is a fantastical story about an alluring sorceress, set outside Jerusalem during the Crusades. It features a soprano role with florid coloratura, huge vocal leaps and stormy expressions of rage. No wonder Renée Fleming wanted to sing it.
The plot is this simple: As the Crusaders attack Jerusalem, Armida plans to destroy them by enchantment but falls in love with their leader instead.
Fleming's beautiful singing and appearance make this an event worth seeing in its encore presentations (and eventually on home TV). Fleming was especially brilliant in her long final scene, which calls for rich legato singing as well as flashy ornamentation. Lawrence Brownlee was impressive as Armida's lover and rival. An unusual trio for tenors was rewarding as well.
Bass-baritone Keith Miller, an Academy of Vocal Arts alumnus who has become one of the Met's most valuable supporting players, was almost unrecognizable in an outfit that seemed part devil and part animal, yet his dark voice stood out.
When this opera is performed again, however, trimming and cutting wouldn't be out of order.
Where's the magic?
I'm not one of the traditionalists who routinely bash director Mary Zimmerman's innovative stagings. I admired her direction of Metamorphoses on Broadway and Lucia di Lammermoor at the Met. Her conception of Armida, though, seemed too cautious, and short on fantasy and magic. The men's clunky costumes were inappropriate for Crusaders. The symbolic creatures and flowers were pretty, but the production lacked much in the way of a "wow" factor, despite the presence of Lion King designer Richard Hudson and the excellent choreographer Graciela Daniele.
Oddly, this production makes no effort to capture the milieu of the Middle East"“ not even an exotic, fairy-tale evocation of that part of the world. The set was mundane, with the players surrounded by plain white walls on top of which were perched silent creatures representing Love and Revenge. They distracted my attention while adding little to the story.
Armida offers great moments, especially in the final act. But it takes a long time to get there.
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