Мария Гулегина (сопрано)

[Nadejda]

Говорила я, что это добром не кончится !!!!!!!

Guleghina cancels and Lise Lindstrom makes Met debut as “Turandot”

Soprano, Lise Lindstrom

The old proverbial concept of “being in the right place at the right time” is still working wonders for singers. On October 28th, the Met’s resident soprano, Maria Guleghina unexpectedly cancelled due to illness, leaving B-Cast soprano Lise Lindstrom to make her debut several days earlier. In this interesting turn of events, Lindstrom solidified her place at the Met and likely caused some uneasiness for Guleghina’s future performances.

Lindstrom’s voice is a sharp, crystalline laser at the top, evoking memories of Nilsson, even if her middle and lower voice leave something to be desired. She was accurate in Puccinian aesthetics if not a little stilted in her Italian pronunciation. Some reviewers seem to be more concerned about the size of Lindstrom’s voice, but I say, size doesn’t really matter…it’s whether or not you can evoke something that slaps the audience emotionally in the face. While the role of Turandot seems to me to be the wrong direction for Guleghina to take at this point in her career, she is going to have to pull out all of the stops in order to compete with Lindstrom’s new found adoring public.

Also giving an acceptable performance was Russian soprano, Marina Poplovskaya, as Liù. The voice has a lovely, warm tone to it and pronounced beauty, however, Poplovskaya didn’t use her innately beautiful voice to its potential. Although the audience responded graciously to her singing, Liù’s arias, which are authentic examples of Puccini’s “povera faccia melody” were lacking in emotional depth.

For me, the success of the night was resident tenor, Marcello Giordani, who sang with true Italianante impetus and remained true to Puccini’s aesthetic. His understanding of the “punto di linea” was evident in every nuance. Although his voice often displays its most beautiful colore bruciato in the higher tessitura, Mr. Giordani was expressive and authentic in his approach. The Nessun Dorma, which is the key portal to Puccini’s grandeur, was sung eloquently, passionately, and with an exquisite penultimate note, held as Puccini intended it. Many tenors extend the note when, in fact, Puccini shunned any lengthening of these notes at the end of the aria. Had he wanted to write a long note, he would have. This shows that Mr. Giordani is more devoted to accuracy than he is centered on showing off his abilities. Bravo Marcello!!!

All in all, this performance of Turandot was much more successful than opening night’s “Tosca.” What was more interesting was Peter Gelb’s interview during the intermission in which he suggested that they were “simply trying to give the audience something they could relate to.” I’m all for anachronistic presentation, but bringing the past into the present doesn’t always mean that the audience wants something different, or that they can’t relate to something from the past. After all, if opera isn’t a historical art, then what is it? The very vocal audience at the Met, with someone even yelling out “Viva Puccini” after Giordani’s Nessun Dorma, are telling directors and producers exactly what they want. VIVA IL POPOLO!!!!

[Alfredo Germont]

Говорила я, что это добром не кончится !!!!!!!

???
Отказ был ровно от одного спектакля - 28 октября. 31 октября и далее она пела Турандот как и было положено. В том числе трансляцию 7 ноября. Любой певец - не компьютер, и бывает, что болеет, хотя бы иногда...

[Nadejda]

Puccini: Turandot

The Metropolitan Opera

Live from the Met in cinemas, 16 November 2009




Not that anyone's complaining, mind you. The Met's over-the-top production, which is rumored to have cost $1.5 million when this extravaganza first opened in 1987, must be seen to be believed. And if seeing is believing, those watching the live HD simulcast Nov. 7 had a pronounced advantage over their counterparts at Lincoln Center, journeying along with the cameras through every nook and cranny of Zeffirelli's massive, imposing scenic design.
Of course, Puccini's vision of ancient Peking is more than just palaces, pavilions and imposing staircases. Stage Director David Kneuss must have had a magic wand to coordinate in such orderly fashion the heavy traffic of the more than 200 chorus members and supernumeraries (imperial guards, priests, mandarins and townspeople) during the opening scene, from their bloody cry for execution ('Muoia! Noi vogliamo il carnefice') to the macabre anticipation of the Prince of Persia's slaughter as they watch the executioner sharpen his sword ('Arrota! Che la lama guizzi'). Give credit also to Chiang Ching, whose 'choreography' of the crowd scenes (mostly stylized movement, actually) and synchronized waving of flags and bandanas provided a stunning complement to the considerable pomp and pageantry of Zeffirelli's sets.
When the smoke cleared, and the initial high from the overwhelming staging and scenery began to wane, listeners began to realize that this is, after all, opera – with acting and singing. Removed from the sizeable distractions of the production, the singing was quite good. But even here, the two principal roles were overshadowed by the lesser role of the slave girl, Liù, sung magnificently by Russian-born soprano, Marina Poplavskaya (pictured, bottom).

It's always a joy to watch singers who can also act, and the close-up camera work panning Poplavskaya's face during her poignant first-act refrain, 'Signore, ascolta', only reinforced the obvious: Poplavskaya is not only a gifted lyric soprano, but also a convincing actress.

Singing in tender, softly shaped phrases, Poplavskaya makes a compelling case for Calàf to stop the madness and abandon his plan to risk his neck for the Princess, and her manner of delivery is faithfully mirrored in her eyes, mouth, and brows (the camera doesn't lie!). When Liù tells Turandot in Act III that the Princess, too, will experience the meaning of love ('Tu che di gel sei cinta'), I was convinced and quite moved.

As Calàf, Marcello Giordani produced some of the most pleasant – but also some of the most frustrating – singing of the afternoon. Giordani's vocal timbre is somewhat of an amalgam combining the lightness of a lyric tenor with the more powerful shades of a dramatic (helden) tenor. But while he demonstrated power to spare in the high notes (he added in an unwritten high C during the celebrated 'riddles scene' with Guleghina), Giordani oftentimes loses control of pitch, which tends to sail sharp when he belts out the top tones (as much as a half-step sharp, such as at the end of Act I). Giordani's signature third-act aria, 'Nessun dorma', while strong in voice, was also sharp in the high notes, and his phrasings were choppy – as if saving himself for the penultimate note, a high B (which he abandoned much sooner than did the orchestra).

As an actor, Giordani's stage presence is stiff and forced, and when he's not singing he appears detached from the dramatic action. When Liù importunes him to abandon his quest for the hand of Turandot ('Signore, ascolta'), Giordani can do little more than stand before her like a statue.



Returning to the stage after canceling several earlier performances due to illness, Maria Guleghina exuded a commanding (if not intimidating) presence as the misanthropic Ice Princess, Turandot. In a clever touch of staging smarts, Turandot's fearsome image is projected through an open window of the Palace several times during the first-act, producing a frightful effect reminiscent of the ominous stare of Big Brother in Orwell's 1984.

From the low register to her high Gs, Guleghina's dramatic soprano is exquisite – a rich and thick vocal timbre that mirrors the larger-than-life character she portrays. Still, the lingering effects of her recent sinus infection were evident several times during the performance, such as in her delivery of the three riddles in Act II where she struggled to maintain pitch during the sustained high notes, and especially during the relentless high-register passages in Act III, which were consistently flat.

Guleghina's acting throughout the performance was quite good, and while I would have preferred that she exaggerate her character's venomous hatred of men when challenging her would-be lover (In questa reggai), hers was a credible, if not memorable, Turandot. When the stoic anti-heroine finally thaws in Act III, Guleghina's transformation from a would-be goddess to vulnerable mortal was believable, and – for a silly fairytale – quite moving.

Veteran bass-baritone Samuel Ramey, who this past April celebrated his 25th-anniversary with the Met, forged a sympathetic character as the proud but downtrodden Timur, exiled King of Tartary and father of Calàf. Ramey's vibrato however continues to widen, which distorted his vocal delivery to the point where, by the third-act, I began to wonder whether Bert Lahr was actually doing the singing.

With the advantage of some irresistible sets and clever staging, the not-so-minor roles of Ping, Pang and Pong (Joshua Hopkins, Tony Stevenson and Eduardo Valdes, respectively) sparkled during the opening scene of Act II, as the colorfully outfitted trio speculated on whether they would be preparing a wedding or a funeral (Poichè il funesto gong).

The colorful costumes, designed by Anna Anni and Dada Saligeri, provided a vibrant complement to the dizzying opulence of Zeffirelli's sets. Especially lovely were the yellow and gold ceremonial robes of the servants and mandarins that mirrored the color of the Imperial Palace during Act II, Scene Two. And let's not forget Turandot's headdress – a pearl-studded, chandelier-shaped contraption that would make a Las Vegas showgirl envious. Lighting Director Gil Wechsler convincingly captured both the look and mood of the ancient Peking's setting sun and rising moon.
The Met Orchestra, under the direction of the young Latvian conductor, Andris Nelsons, was in top form throughout this complex and demanding score, Puccini's last. The third-act of Turandot contains the composer's most brilliant writing for brass, and here the Met's brass section shined – both onstage and off.

Except for a few ensemble problems that occasionally placed them out-of-sync with the orchestra, the Met Chorus sang well throughout the performance, particularly as they chanted the Imperial Hymn, 'Ai tuoi piedi ci prostriamo', at the end of Act II. I would nonetheless be much obliged if the chorus master were to prune those few women choristers whose thick, uncontrollable vibratos detract from an otherwise pleasant listening experience.
By David Abrams

[Nadejda]

???
Любой певец - не компьютер, и бывает, что болеет, хотя бы иногда...

По-человечески здесь все понятно. И все же. уступить премьеру молодой начинающей певице - такое не забывается и не прощается.

[Архивист]

По-человечески здесь все понятно. И все же. уступить премьеру молодой начинающей певице - такое не забывается и не прощается.

А может быть это был широкий жест примадонны в сторону своей молодой коллеги? Сколько таких случаев известно из истории.

[AlexAt]

А может быть это был широкий жест примадонны в сторону своей молодой коллеги? Сколько таких случаев известно из истории.

это определенно не тот случай

[Архивист]

это определенно не тот случай

Самолично не присутствовал при сем событии. Сказать ничего не имею

[Nadejda]

это определенно не тот случай

Я тоже так думаю. Тем более, театр не то место для таких жестов.
К тому же, во второй рецензии пишут, что последствия болезни все-таки ощущались и 16 ноября на верхних нотах. Гулегина очень подвержена всяким простудам. Кроме того, алергик и всякие там синусы подкарауливают ее за каждым углом. Отсюда всякие неожиданности. А большие театры не любят, когда их подводят. Поэтому, этой молодой и никому до сих пор неизвестной Лиз Линдстром, видимо шведка, просто повезло на чужой беде. А Марии это безусловно "черный шар". Там не считаются, больна ты или нет. Взялся за гуж ..... Вот Нетребко позволила пару раз сорвать гастроль по болезни - все, больше ее в КГ не приглашают, надеюсь, что пока.
Кстати, говорят, что Мария опять сильно похудела и снова красавица. Да это и видно на верхней фотографии.

Во всех рецензиях отмечается прекрасное исполнение Марины Поплавской партии Лиу. Я в этом не сомневалась после того, как услышала ее в "Дон Карлосе". Очень хороший голос и школа. К тому же очень умная и тонкая актриса. Я очень рада, что мои предчувствия в отношении ее полностью оправдываются.

[AlexAt]

Я тоже так думаю. Тем более, театр не то место для таких жестов.

да не то слово

Кстати, говорят, что Мария опять сильно похудела и снова красавица.

ну в целом, да. По сравнению с прошлой зимой - определенно да

Во всех рецензиях отмечается прекрасное исполнение Марины Поплавской партии Лиу. Я в этом не сомневалась после того, как услышала ее в "Дон Карлосе". Очень хороший голос и школа. К тому же очень умная и тонкая актриса. Я очень рада, что мои предчувствия в отношении ее полностью оправдываются.

меня вот Ковалевска что-то расстроила в "Дон Жуане"... ну, об этом я еще напишу

[Nadejda]

меня вот Ковалевска что-то расстроила в "Дон Жуане"... ну, об этом я еще напишу

Ковалевская будет петь Лиу с Гулегиной во второй половине марафона.
Сегодня вот узнала, что в кинотеатре Барбикан центра дают трансляцию из МЕТ на большой экран. Идешь и смотришь как кино. Билеты были по 25 фунтов, 7 ноября на живую трансляцию. Похоже, что в эту субботу опять будет такой же киносеанс. Но видно уже в записи. Если буду в хорошей форме, попробую сходить и узнать. Думаю, в Вене есть такая же практика.