Le Nozze di Figaro

(photo: Marty Sohl/Met Opera)

Conductor: David Robertson
Countess Almaviva: Maija Kovalevska
Susanna: Mojca Erdmann
Cherubino: Christine Schäfer
Count Almaviva: Gerald Finley
Figaro: Ildar Abdrazakov
Barbarina: Ashley Emerson
Marcellina: Margaret Latimore
Don Basilio: Don Graham Hall

Work has been insanely hectic for the past few weeks and so I thought I'd take advantage of this hurricane and ensuing office closure to finally update my blog.

Last Friday I attended the season premiere of Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro at the Metropolitan Opera. I haven't seen this opera in several years and it was a nearly great performance with Robertson leading the orchestra in top form. The recitatives were accompanied by Dan Saunders on the piano which was a nice change from the traditional harpsichord.

Finley was a fine Count with the appropriately menacing but subdued hauteur that worked for him so well in the title role of Don Giovanni last season. The rest of the cast was new to me. I especially enjoyed the lovely Erdmann as Susanna and Schäfer as Cherubino. Emerson was especially charming as Barbarina. Abdrazakov was a wonderful Figaro with a robust physicality that reminded me of a young Bryn Terfel. Graham Hall as Don Basilio and Latimore as Marcellina were entertaining though a bit one dimensional but then there's not a lot of depth to their characters.

Kovalevska was the weak link in the cast. For Le Nozze to work its magic, the Countess should be a model of virtue and suffering, bringing an emotional gravitas to balance the other characters' ribald humor and silliness. Mozart's music for the Countess is full of exquisite longing but I heard none of that, with Kovaleska barreling through her arias with uneven pitch and monotonous expression. Indeed, in Porgi amor and Dove sono I was wholly unconvinced of her nobility and devotion. Instead she merely seemed like an annoyed Real Housewife whose credit card had been declined during a shopping spree.

One thing about Kovalevska though is that her comic timing was flawless. The closing ensembles in all four acts were sung beautifully in the perfect buffa style. That said, I'm tempted to see the opera again when Hei Kyung Hong takes over the role of the Countess on November 17.

As a side note, the Metropolitan Opera will resume performances tomorrow. The New York Philharmonic announced the same then cancelled a few minutes ago on Twitter and then deleted the tweet announcing the cancellation. Carnegie Hall will remain closed, presumably until that dangling crane that caused the evacuation of West 57th Street gets taken down. But I do hope that Carnegie Hall will be up and running soon. After all, they have a wonderful season ahead and of course, the show must go on.

Otello

Conductor: Semyon Bychkov
Desdemona: Renée Fleming
Otello: Johan Botha
Cassio: Michael Fabiano
Iago: Falk Struckmann
Roderigo: Eduardo Valdes
Emilia: Renée Tatum
Ludovico: James Morris

For me, Otello is one of those operas that's easy to admire but not so easy to love. Musically I think it's one of Verdi's most thrilling achievements with full bodied orchestration, great psychological depth, and some very memorable arias. But the malicious plot is such a downer, and the characters - what can I say - if they're not completely odious they're downright exasperating, except perhaps for Desdemona's maid, Emilia.

That said, I looked forward to last night's premiere of Otello at the Metropolitan Opera. I've been neglecting Verdi over the past several years (in favor of Wagner, mostly), though I did see La Traviata and Macbeth last season. I've also been avoiding Renée Fleming lately - her recent recordings and videos have begun to seem so mannered and artificial that sometimes I can barely recognize what she's singing.

Well, Fleming proved me wrong last night. Her voice may no longer seem as lush as it did ten years ago but her account of Desdemona was a model of integrity. She sang the part without any embellishments and undue emphasis. Her vocal line was pure and her emotional expression was honest and deeply felt. Her fourth act Willow Song and Ave Maria were completely unnerving in their simplicity. No histrionics, just a stoic resignation and acceptance of her fate that pretty much broke my heart.

Botha didn't fare was well in the title role. His voice sounded thin (because of allergies, as a spokesperson explained during the intermission) and his characterization was cartoonish.

Struckmann, on the other hand, was fantastic as Iago. Like Fleming, there was no overacting, he just sung his part with such tremendous authority that his every inflection sent chills through the audience. Fabiano likewise made a fine impression as Cassio, and so did Tatum as Emilia and Valdes as Roderigo.

Morris proved that he can still command the stage even with bit parts. It was a nice surprise to hear him as Ludovice. The chorus sounded a bit out of synch in the beginning but improved in the later acts.

Bychkov conducted with passion and conjured many wonderful effects in both the public and intimate scenes. The orchestra served Verdi well last night. I just might see the rest of the composer's offerings at the Met this season.

Salome at Carnegie Hall

(photo courtesy of the Stamford Advocate)

The Cleveland Orchestra
Franz Welser-Möst, Music Director and Conductor
Nina Stemme, Soprano (Salome)
Eric Owens, Bass-Baritone (Jochanaan)
Rudolf Schasching, Tenor (Herod)
Jane Henschel, Mezzo-Soprano (Herodias)
Garrett Sorenson, Tenor (Narraboth)

Last Thursday the Cleveland Orchestra presented Richard Strauss's Salome in concert at Carnegie Hall. The opera, which ends with Salome kissing the decapitated, bloody head of the prophet Jochanaan, has to be among the grisliest ever written. According to the program notes, after the opera's first appearance in New York at the turn of the century,  a citizens' protest against the "moral stench" of this "loathsome, abhorrent" work closed the Metropolitan Opera production after one performance.

I thought that listening to this opera in concert would be a good way to experience the music in a visceral manner and sidestep the camp of most stagings. Under Welser-Möst, the orchestra played admirably but seemed to gloss over the restless dissonances of Strauss's score. During the first half I thought I was listening to chamber music. I could also barely hear the singers including Owens, who was stupendous as Alberich in the Met's Ring cycle, though his voice gained clarity as the evening progressed. Owens seemed to view Jochanaan as a coolly erudite seer, condemning but decidedly above being enraged by the queen's immorality. His repudiation of Salome's advances likewise seemed grounded in ethics rather than disgust.

Henschel was regal but obviously unhinged as Heroidas. Henschel played Herod as a cad who just happened to be the king: lusting after the title character then later denouncing her for being too high maintenance.

Stemme turned out to be a riveting Salome, especially after the Dance of the Seven Veils when she silences Herod's offers of riches by demanding the execution of Jochanaan. During her final, wrathful monologue with the severed head, Stemme fully expressed her character's psychosis. It was a privilege to listen to her and I hope that she makes more frequent appearances in New York. She is, after all, considered to be the reigning dramatic soprano in the Strauss and Wagner repertoire.

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, 1925-2012

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, baritone singer, born May 28, 1925; died May 18, 2012. I've listened to many of his recordings over the years and regret that I never got to see him in a live performance. His Youtube videos of Mahler lieder were particularly wonderful. Rest in peace.

From The Guardian obituary:

Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau, the distinguished German baritone, has died aged 86. His protean career was surely unique, as he sang and recorded more vocal music than any who came before. In particular, he broached more lieder (German songs) than any of his predecessors of the genre, his recordings running into the hundreds. Many of these songs he recorded several times over: for instance, he made no fewer than eight recordings of Schubert's Winterreise.

This truly incredible output was the result of an inquiring mind, an insatiable desire to tackle any and every song he could find, and to be a proselytiser for the art of lieder and singing in general, all these underlined by an instinctive wish to achieve perfection in his craft. More than that, he was an inspiration to the vast number of singers who have followed his example in this field, and made the singing of lieder a common experience. He also created an audience for this kind of music-making. Look at the concert and radio listings, look at the myriad discs of songs released in the CD age, and you will hear the benefits of his pioneering effort.

Fischer-Dieskau was born in Berlin and studied there with the veteran lieder artist Georg Walter, then after the second world war with Hermann Weissenborn, who partnered him at the piano in early recitals. But many of his first successes were in opera in Berlin. He made his stage debut there in 1948, as Posa in Don Carlos at the City Opera, where he would go on to be heard in most of the major baritone roles, Italian and German. From 1949 onwards he was appearing regularly at the Vienna State Opera and at the Bavarian State Opera in Munich. He also sang at the Bayreuth festival from 1954 to 1956 as the Herald (Lohengrin), Wolfram, Kothner and Amfortas.

In 1961 he created, magnificently, the ego-mad Mittenhofer in Hans Werner Henze's Elegy for Young Lovers at the Schwetzingen festival and in 1978 the title role in Aribert Reimann's Lear at Munich, an overwhelming portrayal. His Covent Garden debut came in 1965 when he created an immense impression as the impassioned Mandryka in a new production of Richard Strauss's Arabella under Georg Solti. He returned later to portray Verdi's Falstaff, a large-scale but somewhat unidiomatic reading.

Among roles in which he was unforgettable and which he recorded for posterity are Count Almaviva, Don Giovanni, the Flying Dutchman, Wolfram in Tannhäuser, Telramund in Rudolf Kempe's classic set of Lohengrin, Busoni's Faust, Hindemith's Mathis, Mandryka, Barak in Strauss's Die Frau ohne Schatten, and both Oliver and the Count in the same composer's Capriccio.

One of Fischer-Dieskau's first and most moving portrayals on disc was as Kurwenal in Wilhelm Furtwängler's legendary 1952 recording of Tristan und Isolde. Another classic recording with the German conductor was of Mahler's Lieder eines Fahrenden Gesellen. He twice recorded the same composer's Das Lied von der Erde, first under Paul Kletzki, then with Leonard Bernstein, taking the three movements usually sung by a mezzo-soprano and making them very much his own.

Tall, with expressive features, Fischer-Dieskau was a riveting figure on stage and a not inconsiderable actor. Nobody who caught him as Mandryka, Mathis or Wolfram is likely to forget the experience.

His enormous repertory also included many choral works. Besides recording many of Bach's cantatas, he was a sympathetic Christ in both that composer's Passions, an imposing Elijah in Mendelssohn and one of the original soloists in Benjamin Britten's War Requiem, the baritone contributions written specifically for him. Britten in 1965 composed his Songs and Proverbs of William Blake for Fischer-Dieskau, just one of the many commissions his singing inspired.

Yet it was with his lieder that he achieved his greatest deeds. He recorded all the songs of Schubert, Schumann, Brahms, Hugo Wolf and Strauss suitable for a male voice. He worked on them first with Gerald Moore, doyen of pure accompanists, and then was partnered by a host of distinguished solo pianists and the conductor Wolfgang Sawallisch, each of whom inspired him to refreshingly new insights.

Fischer-Dieskau had a full, firm and resonant baritone, which could be honed down to the most delicate mezza voce. It was used with the utmost care in managing and projecting the text. He could on occasion be too emphatic in his treatment of words and was sometimes accused of overloading climaxes, but these were only the downside of a singer who was totally immersed in everything he undertook. An excellent linguist, he was almost as happy singing in Italian, French and English as in his native tongue, and he spoke English with virtually no accent.

In a career lasting more than 40 years, there was, as the years went by, inevitably some deterioration in his tone, but he compensated for the decline with a new lightness of approach and an even deeper penetration into the meaning of each song, as his 1986 recording of Winterreise with Alfred Brendel reveals. After he had retired from singing in 1992, Fischer-Dieskau took up another career reciting literary texts, often associated with song. He was also willing to give private lessons to carefully chosen singers to whom he imparted his immense experience as an interpreter.

He published a book of memoirs, Nachklang, in 1987, translated into English as Echoes of a Lifetime. It was an unusual autobiography in showing a man who, for all his many achievements, was uncertain of himself. That reflected the impression made when you met him. He was initially shy, but you always felt that behind the quizzical, sly, humorous eye and manner lay a man of philosophical bent, perhaps amazed himself at what his genius, for it was no less, had led him to achieve.

He is survived by his fourth wife, the soprano Julia Varady, whom he married in 1977, and three sons by his first wife, the cellist Irmgard Poppen, who died in 1963.

Here he is singing Bach (lyrics).

Mahler, Shostakovich, and Mahler

Tuesday, May 1, 2012, Carnegie Hall

Performers
Matthias Goerne, Baritone
Leif Ove Andsnes, Piano

Program
MAHLER "Ich atmet’ einen linden Duft"
SHOSTAKOVICH "Morning," Op. 145, No. 2
MAHLER "Wo die schönen Trompeten blasen"
SHOSTAKOVICH "Separation," Op. 145, No. 4
MAHLER "Es sungen drei Engel"
MAHLER "Das irdische Leben"
MAHLER "Nun seh’ ich wohl, warum so dunkle Flammen"
MAHLER "Wenn dein Mütterlein"
MAHLER "Urlicht"
SHOSTAKOVICH "Night," Op. 145, No. 9
MAHLER "Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen"
SHOSTAKOVICH "Immortality," Op. 45, No. 11
SHOSTAKOVICH "Dante," Op. 145, No. 6
MAHLER "Revelge"
SHOSTAKOVICH "Death," Op. 145, No. 10
MAHLER "Der Tamboursg'sell"

Encore
BEETHOVEN "An die Hoffnung," Op. 94

Wednesday, May 2, 2012, Carnegie Hall

Performers
New York Philharmonic
Alan Gilbert, Conductor

Program
MAHLER Symphony No. 6

Last Tuesday I attended a recital at Carnegie Hall with baritone Matthias Goerne accompanied by pianist Leif Ove Andsnes, featuring songs from Gustav Mahler's Des Knaben Wunderhorn, Rückert-Lieder, and Kindertotenlieder, and Dmitri Shostakovich's Michelangelo Suite.

Goerne's Papageno at the Metropolitan Opera made a huge impression when I saw him in Die Zauberflöte many years ago, and Andsnes's Schumann Piano Concerto has always been one of my favorite recordings. I was curious to hear both of them again.

At first glance the program seemed rather bleak - lost love, the death of children, mortality - but it turned out to be a stimulating evening. Goerne has a warm, polished baritone which he used to great effect in Mahler. His phrasing was studied and scrupulous (perhaps overly so in Nun seh’ ich wohl where I wished for more abandon) but his emotional commitment was fully evident. His renditions of Urlicht and Ich bin der Welt abhanden gekommen were just heartbreaking.

The Shostakovich songs were like shots of iced vodka between glasses of Mahlerian bordeaux, if you'll excuse the metaphor. More than anything they seemed like declamations set to music and to be honest Goerne's vocal nuances were lost on me. But this is where Andsnes seemed to shine - he conjured many distinct moods with the spare melodies.

The Beethoven encore, An die Hoffnung, was one of the loveliest songs of the evening.

On Wednesday, the New York Philharmonic played Mahler's Sixth Symphony - an unabashed, propulsive rendition of the same themes of love and death. It was good to hear the orchestra at Carnegie Hall where the strings took on an unusual glow. Gilbert chose to play the Andante as the second movement and his was a ravishing, deeply romantic interpretation. The final movement was literally earthshaking: it was almost like hearing it for the first time. The Principal French Horn, Philip Myers, received well deserved bravos at the end.

I'm now curious to hear the orchestra's Memorial Day concert where Gilbert will be conducting Mahler's Ninth. Especially since it's free. Tickets will be handed out at arund 6:15 pm for the 8:00 pm concert at St. John the Divine.

Die Walküre

Conductor: Fabio Luisi
Brünnhilde: Deborah Voigt
Sieglinde: Eva-Maria Westbroek
Fricka: Stephanie Blythe
Siegmund: Stuart Skelton
Wotan: Bryn Terfel
Hunding: Hans-Peter König

The Metropolitan Opera presented Richard Wagner's Die Walküre on Friday night. I had seen the new Robert Lepage production last year so I wasn't planning on seeing it again this season. But a few days ago, while browsing the Met website, my fingers started clicking uncontrollably, completely against my will, and before I knew it I bought myself a ticket.

I enjoyed last year's performance with James Levine as well as the controversial set which consisted of oscillating planks and digital projections. It was all very striking and creative while staying true to Wagner's stage directions.

I still loved the set on my second viewing though a video glitch momentarily projected the Microsoft logo during one of my favorite scenes, Brünnhilde's War es so schmählich, was ich verbrach (where she begs for Wotan's mercy in Act 3, not completely ruined but the Met should seriously consider switching to Mac). Thankfully the planks moved on cue and the whirring, clanking noises were also less noticeable. The final image of Brünnhilde in a reverse crucifixion of sorts amidst flames, suggesting Wotan's aerial view of the mountaintop, was as amazing as ever.

As a Wagnerian conductor, Luisi is not yet in the same league as Levine but nevertheless led a forceful account of the score with faster tempi and incisive phrasing (albeit with occasionally ragged playing among the horns).  While his preludes to all three acts were thrilling and he eloquently conveyed the nuances of the more intimate scenes, he somehow lacked the grandeur and architectural form of his predecessor. In Luisi's own words:

We can play Wagner’s music as music. You can take all of this ‘pan-Germanic’ pathos out of these operas, drop this very slow and heavy pace and find the music there, which is Wagner’s great gift. You can bring out the intensity in this music, but also its flow. I think that by making the orchestra and the audience listen to some of the subtleties that are so much a part of Wagner, I can help actually push things forward and we can free ourselves from this bad and wrong tradition, this myth of the superior sound of the German orchestras. It’s not true and it’s not real. These so-called traditions come only from the 1920s and ’30s. These great composers came from the 18th and 19th and early 20th centuries!

Voigt, Westbroek, and Terfel were as good as ever, each bringing a palpable humanity to their roles, but it was Blythe who once again electrified the audience as Fricka. In her short Act 2 scene she dispelled any doubts as to who wore the pants in Valhalla.

Skelton was a credible Siegmund though a bit one dimensional in terms of acting and vocal expressiveness. His Winterstürme was lovely but not as deeply affecting as the renditions by Jonas Kaufmann last year and Placido Domingo in previous seasons. Same with König - he has great booming voice but came across a bit teddy bearish as Hunding.

Die Walküre has to be my favorite opera in the Ring cycle. The five-plus hours went by quickly with Luisi's pacing and even the extended monologues sounded like Homeric poetry rather than the usual "Oh God, they're repeating themselves again..." By the end I was wondering whether I should see it one more time with Katarina Dalayman as Brünnhilde, but perhaps that would be overkill. Or maybe not? I should definitely stay away from the Met website though.

La Traviata

Conductor: Fabio Luisi
Violetta Valéry: Hei-Kyung Hong
Alfredo Germont: Matthew Polenzani
Giorgio Germont: Dmitri Hvorostovsky

Willy Decker's modern staging of La Traviata returned to the Metropolitan Opera last night with Hei-Kyung Hong replacing Natalie Dessay who was ill.

Hong was a fine actress whose frail, exhausted manner suited her character. The problem was that she sounded frail and exhausted as well, especially in Act 1 where her Sempre libera was barely audible. But she did gain volume in Acts 2 and 3 and even though her voice has lost some of its luster, her portayal was quite moving particularly in Addio del passato.

Polenzani was a lyrical Alfredo though he used too much vibrato which sometimes gave the impression of operatic overacting. He gamely indulged the director's whims such as singing De' miei bollenti spiriti in boxer shorts rather than hunting clothes and generally getting knocked around by various members of the cast.

The evening belonged to Hvorostovsky whose Germont combined nobility with tenderness. His glamorous good looks lent an interesting dynamic to his Piangi piangi duet with Violetta (which has never sounded so seductive), and hiis velvet sound and ardent phrasing in Di provenza drew ecstatic applause. It was a pleasure to watch him.

Under Luisi, the orchestra was lackluster in the first act, perhaps toned down to accommodate Hong's small voice, but bloomed as the opera progressed. The Act 3 prelude was especially haunting.

Peter Gelb, the general manager at the Met, has been updating the repertory's staging to reflect current trends in Europe and this production sharply contrasted with Zeffirelli's traditional designs. All three acts took place in a clinical white set with a minimum of furnishings. The chorus, dressed identically in black suits (including the women), moved with menacing choreography that made Violetta, and sometimes Alfredo, seem like victims of an intolerant and judgmental mob. The symbolism was sometimes heavy handed, as with the big clock, the constant presence of Doctor Grenville, and Violetta's plain red dress (in lieu of a ballgown) which was worn in drag in one scene and by a young, seemingly innocent woman in another.

These ideas were interesting though stripping the opera of its period context and luxurious trappings effectively minimized the class differences between Violetta and the Germonts, and consequently the story of a courtesan who leaves her high born lover in order to protect his family's reputation no longer made much sense.

Still, I was engrossed with the production and am almost tempted to see the opera again with Natalie Dessay who is still scheduled to perform through the beginning of May.

Here's the Brindisi from the original Willy Decker production in Salzburg with Anna Nebtrenko and Rolando Villazon.

Macbeth at the Metropolitan Opera

Conductor: Gianandrea Noseda
Lady Macbeth: Nadja Michael
Macduff: Dimitri Pittas
Macbeth: Thomas Hampson
Banquo: Gunther Groissböck

Last Monday I attended Giuseppe Verdi's Macbeth at the Metropolitan Opera.

This was an early work influenced by bel canto and the score actually sounded more like Donizetti rather than Verdi's later operas. In certain scenes it seemed as if I was listening to Lucia de Lammermoor with occasional blasts of verismo.

Much has been written about Michael's pitch problems and they were indeed evident on Monday. She has an arresting stage presence but Lady Macbeth seemed beyond her current vocal capabilities. Her wobbly tone did contribute to the sense of her character's mental disintegration and her sleepwalking scene was chilling in spite of the imprecise intonation.

Hampson, who has made a specialty of the title role, was oddly inert. His elegant, patrician baritone is well suited for Mozart but not for Verdi, which requires some heft and gravitas. His didn't quite convey Macbeth's ambition and paranoia.

The chorus, however, was fabulous, especially in the witches' scenes and in Patria oppressa. Noseda led the orchestra with chamber-like nuance. I did love the modern dress production which was updated to post World War II Scotland. The use of large swinging lamps was particularly ingenious, and the staging of Banquo's ghost in the banquet scene was delightfully spooky.

It's a testament to Shakespeare that in spite of the inconsistent singing I left the opera eerily disturbed by what I had just seen. Una macchia è qui tuttora (Yet here's a spot) really creeped me out. It's the eternal metaphor for the buried terrors in each and every one of us.

Here are two incredible, and completely different, interpretations by Montserrat Caballe and Maria Callas.

Rinaldo

Last night the Lyric Opera of Chicago performed Rinaldo, perhaps Georg Friedrich Händel's finest opera, in a witty, modern production by Francisco Negrin.

The experience was worth the trip to Chicago. The music was extraordinary and all of the arias, particularly Cara sposa and Lascia ch'io pianga, were like jewels strung on silvery, finely wrought Baroque orchestration.

The excellent cast included David Daniels as Rinaldo, Julia Kleiter as Almirena, Luca Pisaroni as Argante, and Elza van den Heever as Armida. The conductor was Harry Bicket.

Here's David Daniels singing Cara sposa from the 2001 Prinzregententheater production in Munich.

 

Parsifal preview

Next season the Metropolitan Opera will present a new production of Richard Wagner's Parsifal, directed by Francois Girard in a co-production with Opera Lyon and the Canadian Opera Company.

The cast will include Jonas Kaufmann in the title role, Katarina Dalayman as Kundry, Peter Mattei as Amfortas, Evgeny Nikitin as Klingsor, and René Pape as Gurnemanz. The premiere is scheduled for March 2, 2013. Daniele Gatti will conduct the first five performances and Asher Fisch will conduct the final two.

The theme is based on investment bankers searching for redemption. Just kidding (or maybe not).

Here's a preview from Lyon, courtesy of Opera Cake:

Ring Without Words

Who needs words? The Vienna Philharmonic under Lorin Maazel performed the "Ring Without Words" at Carnegie Hall last Saturday. Wagner has never sounded so soigné and the orchestra played his musical themes with clarity and brilliance. In particular. the prelude to Act 2 of Die Walküre, the funeral march and the final scene of Götterdämmerung were all played with conviction and dramatic fervor.

The opening piece, Mozart's Symphony No. 40, was also good but maybe I was too psyched for Wagner to appreciate it fully.

I'm still debating whether to see another Ring cycle at the Met, having seen the individual Robert Lepage productiions over the past two seasons. Maybe I'll just see Götterdämmerung with Deborah Voigt since Katarina Dalayman was a bit too restrained for my taste. Tickets are still available. Decisions, decisions...

(photo courtesy of The New York Times)

A new Leporello

Kyle Ketelsen stole the show as Leporello in Don Giovanni at the Metropolitan Opera last night. A resonantly beautiful baritone and an arresting stage presence. Such a pleasure to listen and watch. I can't wait to see him in Billy Budd in May.

The rest of the cast was good too, with Gerald Finley emphasizing the sadistic side of the title character. The orchestra led by Andrew Davis was very fine.

As for the new production, well, let's just say it was a nice change of pace from Siegfried and Götterdämmerung earlier this season.

Conductor: Andrew Davis
Donna Anna: Marina Rebeka
Donna Elvira: Ellie Dehn
Zerlina: Isabel Leonard
Don Ottavio: Matthew Polenzani
Don Giovanni: Gerald Finley
Leporello: Kyle Ketelsen
Masetto: Shenyang
The Commendatore: James Morris