By Harry Forbes
Victor Herbert’s 1911 grand opera – not performed in its original form for over a century – was accorded a splendid resurrection this past weekend. The work – available till now only in orchestral medleys and some characterful but necessarily dim 78s -- proved enthralling.
Under the baton of Gerald Steichen, who conducted an orchestra of nearly 60 musicians, a chorus of 36, and a cast of first-rate soloists, the enterprise – under the auspices of producer/director Alyce Mott’s Victor Herbert Renaissance Project LIVE! – made a highly persuasive case for the work, its music, by turns, lyrical, majestic, sinuous, rapturous and altogether bewitching.
The opera was the result of a conscious effort by Herbert and his collaborator, librettist Joseph D. Redding – both savvy men of the theater -- to create a truly American opera, sung in English, and utilizing genuine American themes, both dramatically and musically. The original cast included the great Mary Garden in the title role of the tragic Indian maiden and John McCormack, at the start of his career, as the naval officer, Paul Merrill, roles taken on this occasion by the rich-voiced Lara Ryan and impressive Tyson Miller, the latter delivering a ringing account of the aria “No Country Can My Own Outvie,” once memorably recorded by McCormack.
As that title suggests, much of the libretto’s language reads as archaic on paper, but as cannily penned by Redding (who was himself an accomplished musician), and as set to music by Herbert, the libretto actually plays quite well. The plot may be melodramatic, but surely that is not so unusual in many operas. More problematic is the character development which is basically nil.
The scene is the island of Santa Cruz off the coast of California, then under Spanish rule, in the year 1820. The noble Don Francisco (sonorous bass Gregory Sheppard) awaits the return of his beloved daughter Barbara (Monica Yunus) from the convent. The womanizing Spaniard Alvarado (Matthew Singer) plans to wed the girl for her fortune. Meanwhile, Barbara’s devoted companion Natoma has fallen for the American officer Lieutenant Paul, but stoically accepts the fact that once he lays eyes on the beautiful Barbara, he’ll inevitably fall in love with her, as indeed he does. Indian half-breed Castro (Robert Balonek), the villain of the piece, plots with Alvarado to kidnap Barbara on the day of her coming of age celebration. Natoma stabs Alvarado just as he and Castro are about to abduct Barbara and spirit her off to the mountains. The crowd turns on Natoma, but she finds salvation when the kindly Padre of the Mission Church (Ron Loyd) persuades her to take shelter and accept God in the convent of his mission church.
Herbert and Redding were determined to be faithful to the historical period and emotional truth of the situation (the Indian cause, for instance, is most sympathetically presented), and the result demonstrates the integrity of their approach to a great degree. But in truth, the story needed to be far better developed, and the characters given more plausible motivation.
Still, Herbert’s music more than carries the day. And the notable orchestral sections – the Habanera and the tense Dagger Dance (which leads up to the stabbing) – were lusciously played, as indeed, throughout the afternoon – under Steichen’s assured command – Herbert’s sophisticated and complex orchestrations shone through with wonderful clarity, surprising and delighting us time and again. Herbert’s melodic gifts were seemingly limitless, and his use of both Indian and Spanish flavoring deftly employed.
For the audience, sitting in a hall where the musicians nearly outnumbered them, the experience was akin to being on a Hollywood soundstage, and wallowing in a most dazzling and luxuriant sound.
The singers, as noted, were a top-drawer lot. Ryan’s mellow mezzo-like tones helped conjure the image of a brooding Indian maiden bemoaning the lot of her dying race despite her blonde, blue-eyed looks. Her opening number, “From the clouds came my first father,” and her final scena were commandingly voiced. By contrast, Yunus’ high-lying soprano and wonderfully pure, bell-like tones, intoned Barbara’s song to the moon exquisitely, and later, she tossed off a superb “I List the Trill in Golden Throat,” the bravura piece once recorded by Alma Gluck, with considerable aplomb.
Baritone Balanek was a particular standout, singing with gloriously firm tone, incisive diction, and tremendous authority. Villain or not, he made Castro’s every moment a pleasure.
Matthew Singer delivered his “Serenade,” with its piquant pizzicato accompaniment, most seductively. Herbert left no room to applaud in his through-composed score, much though the assembled wanted to do so after that number and the other set pieces, including the once popular “Song of the Vaqueros” rousingly sung by Colin Anderson as Castro’s comrade Pico.
The chorus provided superb accompaniment, whether as nuns, soldiers, or off-stage revelers.
This rare and unique experience was the fruition of years of outstanding scholarship on the parts of Glen Clugston who had mounted an abridged, piano-only version of the work in the year 2000 at Westport’s White Barn Theater, and musician/composer Peter Hilliard who painstakingly restored and digitized the score from less-than-perfect sources.
Under Mott’s enterprising and determined leadership, the concert reading (and the two days of open rehearsals that preceded it, starting with the orchestra alone, then adding the principals, and then the chorus) had to rate as one of the major musical events of the season. For those who revere Herbert, and have always longed to hear this legendary piece in all its glory, several were heard to remark that the performance stood thrillingly high in a lifetime of musical experience.
It’s a pity that, on this occasion, merely 200 people had the chance to experience it. But with orchestral parts now restored (some lingering errors notwithstanding), and the spectacular proof of “Natoma’s” worth so strongly confirmed, a full staging and a complete recording will surely not be long in coming.
(DiMenna Center for Classical Music, 450 W. 37th St.; July 13 only)
Photo: Gerald Steichen leads his forces at Sunday's concert reading of Victor Herbert's "Natoma." Credit: Clifton Pierce
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
Wednesday, July 2, 2014
CD Review: David Campbell Sings John Bucchino (Social Family Records/Luckiest Records)
By Harry Forbes
The many fans of David Campbell -- the Aussie singer and actor who, in the late 1990s, lit up New York’s cabaret and theater scenes, including roles in Sondheim’s “Saturday Night” and Encores’ “Babes in Arms” -- will be excited to learn he’s just issued a new album (his first in three years), and it’s a beauty.
Back in the day, Campbell had always showed an affinity for the work of composer John Bucchino, and indeed two of the songs on the present album – “Grateful” and “Taking the Wheel” – can also be found in fully orchestrated versions on his 1997 Philips album named after the latter.
And here, sensitively and definitively accompanied by Bucchino on piano, Campbell’s voice sounds as pristine as before, his high notes still lustrous while taking an occasional dip into an attractive lower register. There’s also, of course, the pleasure of the heightened interpretive skills that come with maturity.
In any case, those two songs and nine others register strongly, each one a little gem. Bucchino’s lyrics have a way of saying much with wonderful economy: “Yes we have come from a long way, Some say wrong way,” to cite but one instance.
The opening track, the haunting and heartbreaking “Sweet Dreams,” with its captivating melody, sets the tone for the classy program that follows, including the poignant “Unexpressed,” about channeling unrequited feelings of love into human kindness; “Better Than I,” a rueful song of dawning self-realization from the animated “Joseph: King of Dreams” for which Campbell sang for Ben Affleck’s character; the warmly sentimental “It Feels Like Home”; and the bittersweet “If I Ever Say I’m Over You.”
In these, Bucchino’s lyrics are never mawkish, and Campbell’s empathetic performances similarly avoid overt sentimentality.
The song list is nicely varied with lighter numbers such as the playful and jazzy “Puddle of Love” which particularly showcases Bucchino’s virtuoso playing; the rhythmic “Learn How to Say Goodbye” with its wise and perceptive lyric (so characteristic of Bucchino’s output overall); the bluesy “What You Need”; and so on. Campbell handles the fast patter of “Taking the Wheel” as deftly as ever in a beautifully phrased reading.
This is one of those perfect unions of singer and material. Here’s hoping we won’t have to wait another three years for Campbell’s next release.
(Available on iTunes and Amazon worldwide.)
The many fans of David Campbell -- the Aussie singer and actor who, in the late 1990s, lit up New York’s cabaret and theater scenes, including roles in Sondheim’s “Saturday Night” and Encores’ “Babes in Arms” -- will be excited to learn he’s just issued a new album (his first in three years), and it’s a beauty.
Back in the day, Campbell had always showed an affinity for the work of composer John Bucchino, and indeed two of the songs on the present album – “Grateful” and “Taking the Wheel” – can also be found in fully orchestrated versions on his 1997 Philips album named after the latter.
And here, sensitively and definitively accompanied by Bucchino on piano, Campbell’s voice sounds as pristine as before, his high notes still lustrous while taking an occasional dip into an attractive lower register. There’s also, of course, the pleasure of the heightened interpretive skills that come with maturity.
In any case, those two songs and nine others register strongly, each one a little gem. Bucchino’s lyrics have a way of saying much with wonderful economy: “Yes we have come from a long way, Some say wrong way,” to cite but one instance.
The opening track, the haunting and heartbreaking “Sweet Dreams,” with its captivating melody, sets the tone for the classy program that follows, including the poignant “Unexpressed,” about channeling unrequited feelings of love into human kindness; “Better Than I,” a rueful song of dawning self-realization from the animated “Joseph: King of Dreams” for which Campbell sang for Ben Affleck’s character; the warmly sentimental “It Feels Like Home”; and the bittersweet “If I Ever Say I’m Over You.”
In these, Bucchino’s lyrics are never mawkish, and Campbell’s empathetic performances similarly avoid overt sentimentality.
The song list is nicely varied with lighter numbers such as the playful and jazzy “Puddle of Love” which particularly showcases Bucchino’s virtuoso playing; the rhythmic “Learn How to Say Goodbye” with its wise and perceptive lyric (so characteristic of Bucchino’s output overall); the bluesy “What You Need”; and so on. Campbell handles the fast patter of “Taking the Wheel” as deftly as ever in a beautifully phrased reading.
This is one of those perfect unions of singer and material. Here’s hoping we won’t have to wait another three years for Campbell’s next release.
(Available on iTunes and Amazon worldwide.)
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