Redhead Reigns in the Met Premiere of Roberto Devereux

     On Thursday night the Met presented its premiere of Donizetti’s last of his three “Queen operas” Roberto Devereux. In a new production by Sir David McVicar, Sondra Radvanovsky starred as Queen Elizabeth (despite not playing the title role), Matthew Polenzani was Roberto, and Mariusz Kwiecien and Elina Garanca were the Duke and Duchess of Nottingham. Maurizio Benini conducted the Metropolitan Opera Orchetra and Chorus.

 

Sondra Radvanovsky as Queen Elizabeth in Sir David McVicar’s production of Roberto Devereux

 
Ms. Radvanovsky sang full throttle, her high register dominating the entire performance. Her high D at the end of the opera rang brightly and contained unbelievable substance. Not only she did she manage to impress the audience with her vocal fireworks, but also with her uncanny impression of Queen Elizabeth; Hobbling with a cane and constantly throwing herself into hysteric fits of frustration. At the very end, she faces her own death by staring into a white light shining on what appeared to be her tomb in Westminster Abbey. Wig-less and sans cane Ms. Radvanovsky dramatically collapsed to give a striking close to the end of the Donizetti Tudor Trilogy.

     Ms. Garanca made the most of her relatively small role as Sarah, the Duchess of Nottingham. Her first aria “All’afflitto è dolce il pianto” was incredibly serene and legato. She grounded large ensembles powerfully and provided richeness in smaller ensembles, especially in her Act III duet with Mariusz Kwiecien. One wishes she could have brought her Jane Seymour to the Met when the first Queen opera, Anna Bolena, was performed (she cancelled the run due to illness). Mr. Kwiecien was dramatic stagewise, yet his singing did not match the dark and vengeful colors of his character. Throughout the evening he sang largely at the same volume, presenting a lack of contrast. Mr. Polenzani played a brutish Roberto, acting as a catalyst for Ms. Radvanovsky’s outstanding rages. He exemplified his middle register nicely, however, due to possibly pushing, his high register began to sound more raw as the evening went along. Maestro Benini conducted the orchestra and chorus fervently, with only a couple of minor pit and stage disconnections.

     Sir David McVicar’s single dark and candlelit set provided a small and chamberesque feeling for such a grand scandal. In all three acts, chorus members or supers are on stage trying to eavesdrop on the four main characters’ conversations. McVicar was quoted as having said he wished to create a “very febrile, claustrophobic, [and] candlelit world”. One felt claustrophobic in the audience in that we, like the supers or chorus members, were eavesdropping on the Queen’s scandal along with them.

     Performances of Roberto Devereux run through April 19. Don’t be like Queen Elizabeth handling Roberto’s death warrant; Buy tickets before it’s too late!

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Is Opera Color Blind?

A couple of weeks ago I had the immense pleasure of hearing Nina Stemme tear up the house as Turandot live at the Met. The sheer size of her voice brought me back to see her again, only at a movie theater instead of the Met so I could witness her power live in HD. Yet again, her entire range was solid as a rock. She never let a stray note waver or sound out of place in the vast space she creates in her skull for successful resonance. Seeing her Live in HD did leave me with something else to think about other than her musical performance, however.

Stemme-as-Turandot

Nina Stemme as Turandot © Marty Sohl/Metropolitan Opera, January 2016

There is no question that the Met HDs are geared towards the movie industry. The film crew behind their production makes a viewer more aware of a singer’s makeup and appearance than he or she ever would sitting in the opera house. As I was enjoying listening to Ms. Stemme’s astounding sound, I could not help but be distracted by the heavy makeup around her eyes, which was utilized to give her more of an Asian look. The character of Turandot the ice princess came from a Persian collection of stories titled “The Book of One Thousand and One Days” ; and the word “Turandot” itself means “daughter of Turan”, Turan being a region located in Central Asia. Puccini set his opera to take place in the city of Peking, or present-day Beijing, China.

While Ms. Stemme’s makeup did not affect my enjoyment of her performance, it did take me back to a contoversy earlier this season over the use of blackface in the Met’s new production of Otello which opened the season. In this case, Shakespeare created Otello as a “Moorish captain”, based on the story “Un Capitano Moro” published in 1565 by Cinthio. While “Moor” has been used as a term to describe Arab and Berber people emigrating from North Africa to Spain, many have simply identified Othello as distinctly darker than Iago and Desdemona, and thus, isolating him from the light-skinned society for which he serves as a general. Countless references are made in both Shakespeare’s text and Boito’s libretto to Othello’s “blackness”. In the duet between Otello and Desdemona at the end of Act I of Verdi’s Otello, Otello describes how “scendean sulle mie tenebre la gloria, il paradiso e gli astri a benedir” or “upon my darkness shown a radiance, heaven and all the stars in benediction”. Desdemona responds: “Ed io vedea fra le tue tempie oscure splender del genio l’eterea beltà” or “And I descried upon your dusky temples genius’ ethereal beauty shining there”. In other words, it is made obvious that Otello should be personified as a character with darker skin than Desdemona.

When posters were first hung up and New York City buses began bearing ads for the Met’s new production, outrage broke out over Aleksandrs Antonenko’s dark makeup. After Nina Stemme’s thick eye makeup was shown to viewers all over the world on Saturday, I wondered where that same outrage was. For many years, the government of the People’s Republic of China banned performances of Puccini’s world renowned work because it gave an unfavorable portrayal of China and the Chinese people. In the past, productions of Puccini’s Madama Butterfly have been criticized for using “yellowface”, or a type of Hollywood-born makeup used to make actors look “more Asian”. As it was obviously intended by the makeup artists to give Ms. Stemme the complexion of a Chinese princess, where was the fuss? Should her face have been left alone to only let her costume advocate her Asian heritage?

With operas like Otello and Turandot, we are lucky. Costumers and makeup artists have the choice and disposal to create certain complexions they have in mind for the stage. In operas like La Fanciulla del West, however, that choice is not provided, as hints of racism are depicted in the speech or vernacular of the characters. Wowkle, Annie’s pregnant Native American servant, and her husband, Billy Jackrabbit, repeatedly say “Ugh”- filling the popular “stupid Indian” stereotype white Americans used at the time they were trying to move further West.

Is there reason for outrage or is the Met correct in following Puccini’s intentions for an Asian title character? I am very interested in hearing your responses. Please comment below if you have any thoughts.

Swedish Steel: A Review of the Met’s Turandot

The Met opened its last run of Turandot for the 2015-16 season on Monday night. Nina Stemme starred in the title role, Marco Berti was the daring Calaf, Anita Hartig sang the tragic role of Liù, and Ukranian bass-baritone Alexander Tsymbalyuk was Timur. Paolo Carignani conducted the Met Orchestra and Chorus. 

Nina Stemme taking her bow after Turandot on Monday night

 

Nina Stemme is a Turandot made of Swedish steel. Maybe the icy waters of the Baltic Sea carry treasures to produce the rich Swedish ranks of Birgit Nilsson, Iréne Theorin, and other dramatic voices. If so, we should be grateful for how they enhanced Ms. Stemme’s solid high notes, dead-on pitch, and perfect attacks. Her performance bade well for what she will bring to the Met’s new production of Elektra, coming from Aix-en-Provence, when she sings the title role. Marco Berti forced as Calaf, causing some of his sustained high notes to either disappear or crumble. It came as a surprise to hear a dead audience at the end of “Nessun dorma”, which normally rouses fanatic applause.

Anita Hartig put the never-ending devotion of Liù’s character into her voice. She never let it drop as she ventured through her pasaggio and jumped registers. Her legato was sensational; none of her phrases died away. Timur’s last appearance in which he is told of Liù’s death was all the more devastating, as Mr. Tsymbalyuk sang so tenderly. He caressed each phrase, particularly when he was singing about Liù and how God would frown upon all who supported her torture. Dwayne Croft, Tony Stevenson, and Eduardo Valdes were hilarious as the kooky trio of Ping, Pang, and Pong, respectively. Each of them stayed on the beat in their tricky passages in Act I. Mr. Croft gently reminisced about his house of bamboo, generating a feeling of sentimentality.

Maestro Carignani conducted without bombast, allowing the singers to be heard and creating an ideal balance in the orchestra. The thorny passages in the woodwinds were managed particularly smoothly. The Chorus acted as a strong force, and the backstage Children’s Chorus acted as a comforting break from the violence caused by Puccini’s special princess.

Performances of Turandot continue through January 30. Go enjoy some hardcore Swedish steel!

Ms.OperaGeek’s Favorite Classical Music Performances from 2015

2015 was a great year for classical music performances given in New York. From some of the new productions put on stage by the Met to visiting orchestras at Carnegie Hall, the stages of New York oozed with talent. I estimate having attended around fifty to sixty performances just this year, but here are some of my favorites, in chronological order, as I look back on 2015:

Chicago Symphony Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2 and the Schumann “Rhenish” Symphony, January 2015

This program featured Maestro Riccardo Muti conducting both Yefim Bronfman in Brahms’ Second Piano Concerto and the Schumann “Rhenish” Symphony. What I took especially from this performance was the honor of being in the same hall as the CSO brass section. Even without the leadership of Dale Clevenger, the longtime Principal Horn of the CSO who retired two years ago, the notoriously clear and rich sound of their brass section plays on. Brahms Piano Concerto No. 2 begins with a gentle horn call, followed by the “Rhenish” which gives very generous parts particularly to the horns. The symphony itself is in E-Flat Major, a heroic key and a favorite among brass players. The Chicago Symphony played it heroically at that.

Iolanta and Bluebeard’s Castle at the Metropolitan Opera, January and February 2015

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Nadja Michael as Judith in Bartók’s “Bluebeard’s Castle”. © Marty Sohl, Metropolitan Opera, 2015

With the help of two ghoulish new productions by Mariusz Trelinski, a terrifically haunting evening of two rarely staged works was presented. It is doubtful that Iolanta would have been performed at the Met without the help of Maestro Valery Gergiev, who conducted it superbly. Both Anna Netrebko and Piotr Beczala, Iolanta and Vaudémont respectively, gave proof of how their voices have grown and how they are going to take on heavier roles in the future. Nadja Michael’s intensity as Judith in Bluebeard’s Castle drew the audience in with her, as Mikhail Petrenko contrasted with an eerily passive portrayal of Bluebeard. Trelinski’s production made the evening. His use of eternally dark moving projections and ominous voices and noises coming from speakers around the house made it like a ride in the Haunted Mansion at Disneyland rather than a dismally dark experience.

La Donna del Lago at the Metropolitan Opera, February and December 2015

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John Osborn, Joyce DiDonato, and Juan Diego Flórez in La Donna del Lago at the Metropolitan Opera; Photograph: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

I had never seen such a battlefield of coloratura singing before the Met finally brought Rossini’s La Donna del Lago to the stage in 2015. Both casts, in the 2014-15 season and the 2015-16 season, were made up of all-star bel canto repertoire artists: Juan Diego Flórez, Joyce DiDonato, Daniela Barcellona, Lawrence Brownlee, and John Osborn. Each time the trio in Act II between the two tenors and Ms. DiDonato came back, I would sit at the edge of my seat, frozen and immovable, as I witnessed the “battle of the high Cs” between John Osborn and Juan Diego Flórez and later Lawrence Brownlee. Then came the final aria of the opera for Elena, “Tanti affetti”, or “so many emotions”, which is exactly how I felt hearing Ms. DiDonato nail all her runs every single time she went for them. It was amazing to not only hear a new addition to the Met’s bel canto repertoire, but to also hear an entire cast of artists who are always consistent and perpetually prepared.

Vienna Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall, Ein Deutsches Requiem, March 2015

As part of their US tour, the Vienna Philharmonic brought with them one of their specialities: Brahms’ German Requiem. Listening to those Viennese musicians play that music was like comfort food. It felt as if the music was coming straight out of their veins as they played and breathed together as one being. Daniele Gatti conducted gently, exactly what the piece deserves. Diana Damrau and Christian Gerhaher, both accomplished singers of lieder, gave personal and intimate performances as the two soloists. The Westminster Symphonic Choir exemplified versatility, as they sang powerfully in the trembling “Denn alles Fleisch, es ist wie Gras” and later came all the way down for a very moving “Selig sind die Toten”. One could pick up on the great amount of care given by every person on stage to deliver Brahms’ non-liturgical messages to humankind.

Boston Symphony Orchestra at Carnegie Hall, Beethoven Violin Concerto, Shostakovich: Symphony No. 10, Mahler: Symphony No. 6, April 2015

In April the Boston Symphony toured to Carnegie Hall with Christian Teztlaff and the Beethoven Violin Concerto, Shostakovich 10, and Mahler 6, all conducted by Andris Nelsons. The Beethoven was played tenderly by Teztlaff with a very interpretive and relatively long cadenza. Both the Shostakovich and the Mahler were fluid and chamber-like under Maestro Nelsons. Instead of going for the big band sound like many conductors do, Nelsons went the other way for a smoother, more velvety sound even out of these two huge works. His animation on the podium, even solely in his eyes as they connect with his musicians, is always worth the price of admission.

Berlin Philharmonic at Carnegie Hall, Beethoven: Symphonies No. 4, 7, and 9, November 2015

The Berlin Philharmonic is the rock star orchestra of the twenty-first century. Tickets to see them at Carnegie Hall are the highest for the entire season each year they tour. From Karajan to Abbado to Sir Simon Rattle, their sound has been transformed into possibly the best in the world as far as classical orchestras go. These rock stars gave it their all as they brought with them a cycle of Beethoven. Out of the three symphonies I saw them perform, my favorite had to have been Symphony No. 7. Yes, many complain that it is performed too often, but when it is performed that well and with such high standards as those of the Berlin Philharmonic, it is a perfect choice.

An entire section of violins sounded like one violin, their blend was that melded. The winds’ first priority was to listen to each other, as they moved and made eye contact as they commingled. Albrecht Mayer, the Principal Oboist of the Berlin Philharmonic, paid particular consideration to listening to his fellow musicians and blending his sound. The brass playing sounded magnificent. As always, they were perfectly in tune and created a big, clear sound together. Sir Simon Rattle looked like he was having a blast as he danced and leaped on the podium. At times, however, he would stop conducting the orchestra entirely, demonstrating that the trust between him and the musicians is unquestionably mutual.

Lulu at the Metropolitan Opera, November 2015

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Marlis Petersen in Lulu at the Metropolitan Opera; Photograph: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera

To call Marlis Petersen a stage animal is an understatement. How she ran around the stage while simultaneously singing Lulu’s long and strenuous part boggled everybody’s mind. She practically won the Olympics. A busy new production by South African director William Kentridge allowed some of the attention drawn to Ms. Petersen to be drawn elsewhere, as projections of newspaper clippings and encyclopedia entries were blotted with inky drawings of people, including the characters on stage, Alban Berg, and others. It was eccentric, but for an opera as kooky as Lulu where everyone is busy dying, the production was allowed to be busy too. The Met Orchestra outdid themselves by effortlessly playing Berg’s complicated twelve-tone rows.

With 2016 coming in, I am very excited for all the performances the new year has to offer. Thank you, 2015, for a fantastic year of performance-going!

 

Saturday by the Lake: A Review of the Met’s La Donna del Lago

On Saturday afternoon I attended my second ever performance of Rossini’s La Donna del Lago at the Met. The cast was virtually identical to last season’s run, with the exception of Lawrence Brownlee singing the role of Uberto, or King James V in disguise, instead of Juan Diego Flórez. Joyce DiDonato, John Osborn, and Daniela Barcellona triumphed again in their efforts to combat Rossini’s merciless coloratura and extreme tessituras.

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John Osborn, Joyce DiDonato, and Lawrence Brownlee in La Donna del Lago, Credit: Sara Krulwich/New York Times

I was shocked to see how sparse attendance was for a Saturday matinee of a performance with singers as well renowned as Joyce DiDonato and Lawrence Brownlee. The new production by Paul Curran sold very well last season, possibly with the help of Juan Diego Flórez who has been notorious for being one of the few twenty-first century artists to repeatedly sell out houses. La Donna del Lago has not yet been fully embraced as a permanent member of the circle of custom bel canto repertoire, however, it surprised me to see multitudes of empty seats for a Rossini opera with such acclaimed singers of that very repertoire.

Joyce DiDonato was fabulous as always, bringing down the house after her glorious aria “Tanti affetti”, which ends the opera. Her voice soared over the orchestra while also blending with other soloists, especially in her Act I duet with Daniela Barcellona, “Vivere io non saprò/ potrò, mio ben, senza di te”. At times, it was difficult to hear Ms. Barcellona over the orchestra. However, her lower register opened up and was audible enough to sound very impressive. Lawrence Brownlee’s Uberto was driven and focused, making his multiple high As, Bs, and Cs sound very exciting. John Osborn’s extension up to his upper register seemed effortless, so much so that his high Ds sounded just as facile as the rest of his upper register. The battle of the “high Cs” between the two tenors, moderated by Joyce DiDonato as part of a trio, at the beginning of Act II left me on the edge of my seat.

The conducting of Michele Mariotti made an afternoon of Rossini all the more enjoyable. He stressed for lightness and character which by no question the versatile Met Orchestra was able to match. The chorus sang robustly to fit the spirit of the camaraderie in the Scottish highlands.

To conclude, here is a bit of fascinating trivia which my father Garry Spector pulled out of the air for both last Saturday’s and this coming Saturday’s double bills: For the first time in history, the Met on both December 19 and 26 will put two Rossini operas on the stage the same day, La Donna del Lago and Il Barbiere di Siviglia. This coming Saturday, La Donna del Lago will switch with Il Barbiere to be the evening show.

Welcome Back, Dmitri Hvorostovsky!: A Review of the Met’s Il Trovatore

On Friday night, the Met began its run of the second Verdi opera of the season Il Trovatore. The role of Manrico was sung by Yonghoon Lee, Anna Netrebko was Leonora, and Dolora Zajick sang Azucena. The spotlight, however, was on Dmitri Hvorostovsky, who sang Count di Luna and made his first return to the Met after announcing that he is in the midst of a battle with a brain tumor and is currently undergoing treatment. He is scheduled to sing two more performances of Trovatore, after initially canceling many of his performances for the rest of the 2015 year.

Upon Hvorostovky’s first entrance, the Met audience went absolutely nuts. Many were standing and clapping as loud as possible, so much so that Maestro Marco Armiliato had to stop the orchestra and wait for the applause to cease. He and the orchestra gladly joined in the applause despite the halt of the performance. Hvorostovsky put a hand to his heart and bowed his head as thanks for the support. The performance continued after about an entire minute of applause.

Dmitri Hvorostovsky during the finals bows after Il Trovatore on Friday night. Photo credits to Met Oboist Susan Spector

Dmitri Hvorostovsky during the finals bows after Il Trovatore on Friday night. Photo credits to Metropolitan Opera Oboist Susan Spector

That was nothing, however. At the conclusion of the performance during the sequence of final bows, Hvorostovsky was given yet another standing ovation and overwhelming round of applause. This time, however, the orchestra not only applauded, but each member threw a white rose from the pit onto the stage for him to collect. This simple gesture was comforting not only for him, but for everyone in the opera house. It showed that the Met is not just a boasting center of entertainment made up of the essential employees for each department: It’s family. As Canio describes in “Vesti la giubba”, there is more behind an actor than just what is on the surface, the makeup and costume; they can experience pain and suffering just as regular people do. Unfortunately, Hvorostovsky is currently experiencing that very human pain. His illness has hit the Met at a personal level, because every orchestra and chorus member, stagehand, you name it, knows him as a man with and without makeup. On Friday night, Hvorostovsky was as ordinary as any individual in the audience, and more importantly, acknowledged as a beloved member of the Met family.

His performance as Count di Luna might have been a little rocky simply because of his immediate return, however, his vocal power and astounding breath control were still exhibited. Yonghoon Lee used volume as his main tool throughout the evening, enough so that I was concerned he was not going to make it. However, he managed to make it through the evening even while keeping a consistent forte volume. Ms. Zajick was fabulous as always in her honed role as Azucena. Her push for forward resonance makes for a very powerful sound up and down the register. Singing-wise, Anna Netrebko was the star of the evening. Her move towards the Verdi sphere and out of the bel canto belt has benefited her well. Her voice has grown into an authoritative instrument by using the rigid breath support needed to handle Verdi’s difficult ascents and descents on the scale. She also managed to do all this while acting in her adopted “stage-animal” method, as she climbed and hung from the metal grating of the prison during her Act IV aria “D’amor sull’ali rosée”. It was an unbelievable stunt, similar to the ones she pulled as Lady Macbeth last season.

On any opening night, there are always a few disconnections between pit and stage. Maestro Armiliato led the orchestra and chorus with his Italianate cantabile line, allowing them to play and sing freely and beautifully. At some points soloists made wrong entrances, some early some late, but none were trainwreck-worthy.

Performances this fall of Il Trovatore run through October 17 before its return in early February with a different cast. Buy tickets to see it today, and to welcome back Dmitri Hvorostovsky for the next two performances!

A Review of Opening Night at the Met: Otello Obscured

The Met opened its 2015-16 season on Monday night with Verdi’s masterpiece Otello. In a new production designed by Bartlett Sher, Aleksandrs Antonenko sang the title role, Bulgarian soprano Sonya Yoncheva was Desdemona, and Želijko Lučić played the villainous Iago. Maestro Yannick Nézet-Séguin led the Met Orchestra and Chorus.

Sonya Yoncheva and Aleksandrs Antonenko in Act III of Verdi's

Sonya Yoncheva and Aleksandrs Antonenko in Act III of Verdi’s “Otello” © Ken Howard/ Metropolitan Opera 2015

The production left me craving drama and intimacy. As these two elements are so crucial to Shakespeare’s original play, I felt that they were lost in the shuffle as Sher’s stage simply felt “too big”. The initial storm from Act I plays a role throughout the opera, acting as the backdrop within acts and as a moving projection with churning waves beginning each act. This represented some drama, at least, in that the storm symbolized Otello’s increasing suspicion and unsteady mind, just as his ship had almost capsized. The only solid components of the set were opaque walls that could be rearranged to create his realm, gardens, etc. As the walls were opaque, not transparent, one could say that the lack of transparency and pellucidity represented Otello’s obscured vision at the hands of Iago. Otello is only able to see what Iago has envisioned for him, not reality. Therefore, the frosty walls of his palace represented his inability to see what is truly occurring live. Even with this potential subtext, I missed the intense intimacy between Otello and Iago, as the foggy walls and a plethora of empty stage did not allow for it. Overall, the production was dull and, to a point, tedious after sitting for 150 minutes of music.

Antonenko was a solid Otello. At times, his voice sounded tight, especially near the top, making it difficult to hear him over the orchestra. However, his intensity in both Acts III and IV was frightening, and his voice also seemed to ease up after the first two acts allowing him to sing more strongly. Sonya Yoncheva was an astounding Desdemona. She had the entire audience in the palm of her hand as she sang her Willow Song. She sang it so simply, as the true “old tale” that it is. Her bloom at the top of her register is very attractive and easy-sounding. Lučić was a creepy Iago. I had difficulty hearing the resonance in his sound in order to push past the orchestra, but his acting put his point across. His duets with Otello were thrilling and balanced.

The conducting by Maestro Nézet-Séguin made the performance come alive. His stress for sforzandi and dramatic dynamic changes brought out vigor and agility in the orchestra and chorus. Chills went up my spine at the moment he brought in the double basses on the low E right as Otello enters to kill Desdemona in Act IV. The shifts in mood of the music were so clearly defined. The orchestra followed suit under his baton. The strings particularly sounded like “one voice”, reveling in Verdi’s gorgeous parts. It was also indicated that the brass had the green light to play out, which made the performance all the more riveting. The chorus sounded full and powerful, especially in their two bigs scenes: The drinking scene in Act I and with Lodovico in Act III.

The current run of Otello will be on the Met stage until October 17, until it returns in April with a different cast. Buy tickets today to see one of four Verdi operas this season!

Purebred Opera Stars and Their Canine Companions

Coming up on August 26 is National Dog Day. Anyone who owns a dog knows that they are the best companions, friends, and even listeners when no one else is around. They are loyal, dedicated, and are happy living their virtually simple lives of eating, sleeping, playing, and cuddling. However, some doggies lead more exciting lives, including activities such as traveling the world with their owners and getting to sniff foreign scents. Several furry little friends have accompanied their opera star owners across the world, as they need plenty of love and support for such a difficult career. Here are some singers who have taken their pets to work:

Renata Tebaldi and New II

Renata Tebaldi and her poodle (Source: http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~san/tebaldidog.jpg)

Renata Tebaldi and her poodle (Source: http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~san/tebaldidog.jpg)

New II was not only a traveling companion of Tebaldi, but also a star at the Met himself! On several occasions he would appear as the Marschellin’s dog in Der Rosenkavalier and take the spotlight along with Musetta in La Bohème. He also had his own set of fine vocal cords, warming up along with Tebaldi in her dressing room as she would sing and he would howl. One time, in fact, his singing was so loud that it disturbed Franco Corelli in the neighboring dressing room. Corelli busted into her dressing room half-naked demanding that the dog be silenced, but he continued to howl. The vocal world can be so competitive! (Source: http://www.fondazionerenatatebaldi.org/default.asp?id=1144)

Franco Corelli and Loris

Franco Corelli and his dog (Source: http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~san/corelliscan2.jpg)

Franco Corelli and his dog (Source: http://www.cs.princeton.edu/~san/corelliscan2.jpg)

Loris and Franco had quite a few adventures together. One of the greatest stories about them occurred in and around performances of Turandot. In 1961, while the Met was on tour in Chicago, Corelli’s dog fell very ill on the night before a performance of Turandot. Loris had seizures that were cured by a veterinarian, but she ended up hemorrhaging early the next morning. Corelli had to sing Calaf that same day. He insisted on canceling, but Rudolf Bing told him there was no backing out. Digging in his heels to avoid going on stage, Corelli repeatedly told those around him that he could not go on; he was too distraught to sing. Finally, his manager Merle Hubbard gave him some encouraging words by saying, “Franco, canto per il cane”, (Sing for the dog!), to which Corelli responded, “Provo!” (I’ll try). With those words, he sang that night. The next city on the Met’s tour was Detroit, and Corelli was sent there ahead of the rest of the company. He refused to leave the Detroit train station once they arrived before he spoke to Loris on the phone. Yes, you read that correctly, he wanted to speak to his dog on the phone. A little whimper from the other end of the line satisfied him, and he continued on with his performances and the tour. (Source: Franco Corelli by Rene Seghers, pages 221-224).

Frederica von Stade and Hannah

Frederica von Stade and her Westie © Terrence McCarthy 2014

Frederica von Stade and her Westie © Terrence McCarthy 2014

According to a recent interview with Ms. von Stade, Hannah was a 60th birthday present to her by her children. She takes her adorable Westie almost everywhere with her and said in the interview how wonderful company she can be. Coincidentally, she said that she took Hannah to the same doggy daycare to which conductor Patrick Summer’s takes his dog. Opera dogs are everywhere! (Source: http://www.hometheaterhifi.com/interviews-musicians-artists/interviews-musicians-artists/a-delightful-chat-with-beloved-mezzo-frederica-von-stade.html)

Jennifer Larmore, Sophie, and Buffy

Jennifer Larmore with Sophie (left) and Buffy and her husband (right). © Audra Melton 2007 (left) and Ken Howard (right)

Jennifer Larmore with Sophie (left) and Buffy and her husband (right). © Audra Melton 2007 (left) and Ken Howard (right)

Ms. Larmore has owned two furry little friends, however, I do not know if she had them at the same time or separately. In a 2007 interview for the Divas Divulge, while she was singing in a concert with Music of the Baroque conducted by Jane Glover, she posed with her dog Sophie. In the interview, she answered the fun question “If you couldn’t sing what would you do?”, by saying she would be writing a series of children’s books about her dog’s musical adventures. If that response does not evoke Ms. Larmore’s warm and effervescent personality I do not know what does.

Sophie also starred, alongside Ms. Larmore, in The Barber of Seville at San Francisco Opera in 1996, acting as Dr. Bartolo’s pet. Initially, when Larmore arrived at the theater, she was told that no dogs were allowed inside, but an exception was made for Sophie by company director Lofti Mansouri. Thus, John del Carlo, singing Dr. Bartolo, carried Sophie around on stage as Larmore sang Rosina.

In a more recent 2015 interview, she posed with her adorable dog Buffy, saying in the interview that she was her most prized possession.

(Sources: http://www.nytimes.com/1996/10/10/style/chronicle-739413.html?ref=topics and http://www.chicagomag.com/core/pagetools.php?pageid=4225&url=%2FChicago-Magazine%2FApril-2007%2FThe-Divas-Divulge%2Findex.php&mode=print)

Deborah Voigt and Steinway

Deborah Voigt signing autographs at the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. with Steinway by her side

Deborah Voigt signing autographs at the Kennedy Center in Washington D.C. with Steinway by her side

Steinway has been Ms. Voigt’s loyal Yorkshire Terrier companion for quite a long time now. He has traveled with her practically everywhere she has sung. When she was living in New York, she would regularly take Steinway on walks and to doggy socials in Central Park, according to a New York Times interview done while she was performing the role of Brünnhilde at the Met. Now, she resides in Fort Lee, NJ, where hopefully Steinway enjoys the suburbs. Steinway has also been taken to autograph sessions, greeting fans as they stick photos and pens in his mom’s face (as seen in the photo above). She also loves dressing him up in various outfits and costumes for social media, especially on Halloween. He is an older doggy now, making it more difficult for him to travel extensively. (Source: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/04/14/nyregion/deborah-voigt-soprano-at-the-metropolitan-opera-unwinds-on-sundays.html?_r=0)

Luca Pisaroni, Lenny, and Tristan

Lenny and Tristan getting ready to go on another trip! © gbtimes

Lenny and Tristan getting ready to go on another trip! © gbtimes

Lenny (Golden Retriever) and Tristan (miniature dachshund) are nearly as famous as their opera star owner Luca Pisaroni. They even have their own Facebook page and blog! They travel everywhere with him and his wife Catherine, because according to Mr. Pisaroni, having them with him makes him feel like he has his family even on the road. He takes them to rehearsals and performances when he can, where they lounge in his dressing room with the door closed so they do not go out on stage.They are even smart enough to know when Pisaroni has a performance, as they always lie on the floor quietly and look at him when he is warming up or vocalizing. After shows, he and Catherine often walk the dogs, get fresh air, and talk about the performance or catch up. Traveling with pets may sound difficult, however, in Mr. Pisaroni’s opinion, it can be very easy if you are organized. “Dogs enjoy what they are used to. If you take them on your trips, then they know that traveling is part of their life”, Pisaroni stated. Tristan even had a chance to star in the Salzburg Festival’s most recent production of Le Nozze di Figaro, something his owner had always dreamed of. To summarize, he told gbtimes that he could not imagine life without his dogs, they simply make his life better. (Source: http://www.lucapisaroni.com/press/pressitem.php?id=42)

Two Generations on Morningside Heights

In six days’ time, I will be moved into Andersen Hall at Manhattan School of Music in order to begin my studies as a vocal performance major. I will be living in New York City, the city that has brought me so many friends and opportunities and so much baseball and music over the last eighteen years. I’ve always dreamed of living in the Big Apple, even though my parents, who have both lived in New York in the past, have warned me of the loud noises and pungent odors that can rise from the street and prevent me from getting shut-eye. To me, the excitement trumps all, and that is why I am as anxious as ever to move into my dorm room.

My dad and me on Columbia's campus staring in the direction of MSM and the Columbia chemistry building. Photo credits: Susan Laney Spector

My dad and me on Columbia’s campus staring in the direction of MSM and the Columbia chemistry building. He is sporting a Manhattan School of Music shirt while I sport a Columbia polo. Photo credits: Susan Laney Spector

Specifically, I will be living in a cute corner on the West Side of Manhattan called Morningside Heights. Located between 110th Street (Cathedral Parkway) and 125th Street (the Southern point of Harlem), the neighborhood holds many of the city’s finest learning institutions: Manhattan School of Music, Columbia University, and Barnard College being some of the most renowned. As the area is populated largely by young college students, it is often a warm and bubbly place to be. Why do I know this? Yes, I did spend a lot of time walking around the neighborhood during my breaks at Manhattan School of Music Precollege, however, there is an even bigger reason for my knowledge of the area.

My father also attended college in Morningside Heights, spending a grand total of nine years at Columbia University obtaining a doctoral degree in Chemistry. From him, I have learned the ins and outs of Morningside Heights: Where to walk, where not to walk, where to eat, what businesses have replaced others, etc. For years, even before I had any idea what MSM was let alone that it is located in the very same neighborhood, my parents and I would walk around Columbia’s campus as he would point out where he used to live and attend class. I would gaze at the iconic copper green roofs, the lush green lawn, and the broad steps stacked up to Low Library with Butler Library glowing from across campus, and find it hard to believe that something so spacious and gorgeous could be found in the heart of New York City. He would share past stories as we turned the corner on 116th to Amsterdam Avenue after sauntering across campus. One funny story I always love to hear him tell is how a take-out place called “Ta-Kome Foods” was located directly across Broadway from the esteemed Columbia School of Journalism.

He introduced me to the best place to get pizza in the area: V & T, and where to waddle up the street afterwards to get the best desserts in town: The Hungarian Pastry Shop. According to Dr. Spector, the menus, tables, and atmosphere are exactly the same as when he was going to Columbia, with the exception of a rise in price.

My dad in his laboratory while he was obtaining his PhD in Chemistry at Columbia University

My dad in his laboratory while he was obtaining his PhD in Chemistry at Columbia University

Nine years, four years for his undergraduate degree and five for his graduate, sounds like a long time to be at one university, but he had his reasons. Even though he was accepted to Princeton for graduate school, which has possibly the most beautiful campus on the planet, he decided to stay in New York. Why? Because Columbia is only seven subway stops away from the Met. For nine years, he completed his studies during the day and took the 1 train down to the Met at night (or during the day for Saturday matinées), to see countless stars such as Leontyne Price, Joan Sutherland, Montserrat Caballé, Marilyn Horne, Grace Bumbry, Shirley Verrett, Placido Domingo, Luciano Pavarotti, Jon Vickers, Sherrill Milnes, Kurt Moll, and Martti Talvela to name a few. He also would take the 7 train out to Shea Stadium to see the Mets play. He even went to a game on the first night he moved into Carman Hall at Columbia his freshman year. He knew that New York was the right place to be not only to go to school, but for great music, exemplary artists, and the Mets as well.

This coming school year, I am going to begin my own Morningside Heights adventure, living only six blocks north at 122nd and Broadway from where my dad started his. I have even started mine a bit early, as I have become the tour guide that my father has been for the past eighteen years in order to help my roommate find her way around. She is a classical pianist coming all the way from Shanghai, halfway across the world. I had the delight of seeing her face light up and her mouth gape wide open when we stumbled upon the Cathedral of St. John the Divine, which she had never seen before. This colossal sanctuary has been under construction since the time my dad was in school, thus, forming another connection between his time in Morningside Heights and mine. I also had the opportunity to take my dad’s position and introduce my roommate to the Hungarian Pastry Shop, where we savored their various cakes and tarts with sides of cappuccinos and Viennese coffee. Even from our dorm room windows, we will be able to see iconic components of Morningside Heights such as Riverside Church and the tomb of the eighteenth President of the United States: Ulysses S. Grant. By knowing the neighborhood and now acting as a tour guide, I feel as if I’m passing on a family tradition.

Thanks to my dad, I now know Morningside Heights like the back of my hand. It is a charming neighborhood and truly one of my favorite parts of the city. I look forward to walking in his footsteps as I get on the 1 or 7 train; waddle up the street after a big meal at V & T; see a great artist live at the Met; watch a Mets game; or take in the beauty that is Morningside Heights.

A Tribute to Margaret Juntwait: The Host of My Days

Juntwait-in-booth

Margaret Juntwait in the MET Opera Radio booth

Earlier this morning, the longtime radio host of the Metropolitan Opera Margaret Juntwait passed away from ovarian cancer. She died at the age of 58. The last Met broadcast she hosted and the last time her voice touched the ears of opera enthusiasts live was during last year’s New Year’s Eve gala of Franz Lehar’s The Merry Widow. To think that her beautiful voice will never soar live through the airwaves again is tragic.

I first met Margaret Juntwait when I was an outgoing, nine-year-old fourth grader. I had joined our elementary school’s Literary Magazine committee, and as MET Opera Radio SiriusXM was new that year, I wanted to write a feature on it. She kindly agreed to be interviewed about it, and I finally had the opportunity to journey to the sixth floor of the Met where the radio department is located. When I arrived, she was just as sweet to me, a nine-year-old literary magazine reporter, as she would have been to a New York Times critic or anyone from the press. I asked her the questions I prepared and she answered them to the fullest.

Little did I know that after our interview she would ask me if I would like to be interviewed on MET Opera Radio as one of the first guests on the new station. I had only joined the Metropolitan Opera Children’s Chorus about a year earlier, and I had only mentioned the fact that I was in it once to her. I could not believe it! My family and I ventured back up to the sixth floor during a March 2007 broadcast of Turandot, in which I would be interviewed during one of the intermissions. She made me feel right at home; I did not feel nervous at all. She made the interview seem as if I was talking to an old friend; we were chatting, laughing, and even singing a little bit! I will forever cherish that sensation of friendship that she made real that night live in the studio.

Every morning I wake up to MET Opera Radio. I keep my stereo singing all through the night because I cannot get enough opera during the day. Sometimes I would even wake up in the middle of the night to Margaret’s recorded introductions to a 1980s broadcast of L’elisir d’amore, or credits after a long haul of Götterdämmerung. I one time even joked with her that I used to think she would sneak in my room and talk to me in my sleep. That is how close a presence she was, even though there were always a stereo and microphone between us.

Each morning at 7:30 when my dad and I leave the house for school, we often check what the 6:00 AM broadcast is (even though most of the time I know what it is from already having checked), or what excerpt is being played. Whenever it was timed well enough so that Margaret could tell us what it was, my dad and I would look at each other and say simultaneously, “That’s our friend!”.

In the evenings after dinner, my family and I always gather in our den to listen to MET Opera Radio broadcasts on certain days of the week. As I launched into my homework or a new book or my newsfeeds on Facebook and Twitter, I would smile when I heard Margaret arrive on the air welcoming everyone for the night. It was comforting to know that she was hosting my evening’s soundtrack as I worked on my assignments. During intermissions, William Berger often asks trivia questions, for which one can email answers to radio@metopera.org to get possible shoutouts. Whenever I was mentioned for my responses, Margaret would cheer or even say “what a surprise!”, because she always admired my knowledge of the art form.

Once I was ready to fall asleep, Margaret’s voice would often be the last one I heard for the day. Sometimes if I heard her, I would say “Goodnight, Margaret!” before I turned over and shut off the light. I wish I could have had a chance to say that “Goodnight” in person, just as she said to me hundreds of times at the end of live broadcasts. Her curiosity, passion, and love for opera will be missed by the thousands of people who tune into MET Opera Radio and WQXR every week.

As I enter as a freshman vocal performance major next year at Manhattan School of Music, just as she did after her senior year of high school, I will think of her as I walk through the hallways and when I continue to have MET Opera Radio playing in my dorm. Thank you, Margaret Juntwait, for always being a part of my day, a familiar voice, and a friend. You will be missed.