The High Note

Daniel Wakin, the Times's classical-music reporter, has a perceptive piece on singing high Cs, with some interesting comments from Florez. Wakin also touches on Duprez and Nourrit. The whole question of what Duprez's high C de poitrine was like is one of those mysteries that even the estimable Stefan Zucker may never be able to answer. People who are as fascinated by tenors--and by the remarkable Nourrit--as I am will enjoy Henry Pleasants's superb book, The Great Tenor Tragedy, which recounts Nourrit's disastrous last days, primarily in his own words.

Luciano Pavarotti - King of the High C’s - Opera - Music - New York Times

Open Your ... Throats

One thing Pavarotti was known for, and that he prided himself in, was his sunny, Mediterranean, open-throated sound. An open throat is so important for effective lyrical singing in opera, and it was Pavarotti's calling card. Licia Albanese, in an interview worth reading even if it means wading through the usual diva rhetoric, also stresses the need to open the throat:

"When asked about differences between singers of her era and singers today her remarks were direct: ‘You know, I don’t want to offend anybody, but now they are not to my taste.… I see, sometimes, on television, as if someone is being choked, and I say from my bed “Open your throat! Open everything! Open your heart!” And I see that they attack a note, (she makes choking sounds) and it comes to a stop! No, no, open, open! Enthusiasm, love, beauty! I wish I could liberate them! (Again she acts as if she were choking). This is not beauty! And they sing on the notes, not on the words! But if you just sing notes, it’s not really singing. It’s the beginning of grimaces and throaty sounds! There is no expression!'"

I would tend to agree, with qualifications, with this criticism. Many singers these days seem to be crunching down, tightening and constricting their throats.

Classical Voice - The Heart of the Matter: Conversations with Licia Albanese - Aug/2007

Might Make a Good Name for a Vodka

Branding Jean Sibelius: Composer’s heirs register trademark to prevent tacky exploitation

"There's no politics in the play but there is something that is threatening to a dictatorship – open conversation"

An article about a remarkable theater company in Belarus that is in the authoritarian government's sites:
Ingo Petz: Arrests after the second act - signandsight

Pavarotti

My grandfather, a gifted amateur violinist and pianist and life-long music lover, was born in 1903. He once heard Caruso sing--in a large arena of some kind, not an opera house. In the late 70s or early 80s or so I asked my grandfather who he thought was better: Pavarotti or Caruso? To my surprise he said Pavarotti, citing the warmth of Pavarotti's voice.

Now, it's probably not a fair comparison, and my grandfather heard Caruso in an environment in which Caruso no doubt had to push mightily to be heard. But there is no doubt that warmth of tone and brightness of timbre, as well as a sense of ease (especially in those effortless high notes), were what made Pavarotti's voice so distinctive.

I saw Pavarotti several times at the Met, from the late 70s on, in Favorita, Ballo, even as the Italian Singer in Rosenkavalier. I always found him an appealing and charismatic actor, even if his characterizations did not run deep, and his voice was always thrilling.

Still, I would agree with those who argue that in terms of artistry, he was a more interesting singer in the 60s and 70s than after he assumed superstar status. Fortunately, there are several recordings from that period, in which he really seems to be trying hard to make his enormous vocal talent serve the needs of the music and drama. This is evident in his marvelous Fille du Regiment and Elisir d'Amore recordings (with Sutherland), and the film of the Karajan performance of Verdi's Requiem.

From the early 80s on he could be sloppy, marring his otherwise exemplary diction with unnecessary interpolated vowels; by the 90s he was essentially phoning things in. But occassionaly the grandeur could return, as it did with his exciting recording of Puccini's Manon Lesaut with Freni.

His passing is sad, and he will be missed.

Dante

I read the Inferno in Robert Hollander's class at Princeton--it occupied two lectures in a survey course that started with Augustine and ended with, I believe, Thomas Mann--and sorry to say Prof. Hollander's efforts failed to make a Danteist out of me. Nor did working in an editorial capacity on R. W. B. Lewis's fine biography of Dante in the Penguin Lives series. But Tim Parks's marvelous New Yorker article, a review of the Hollanders' translation of Inferno from 2001, has come the closest to awakening in me a longing to re-read the poem, probably because Parks does not entirely buy the Hollanders' scrubbed version. The New Yorker web site has done everyone a service by posting Parks's original article--on the occasion of the final volume of the Hollanders' translation.

A Critic at Large: Hell and Back: The New Yorker

Missing Solti?

It's been ten years since Solti's death. Once, after hearing one of his Carnegie Hall concerts, I was speaking with a work colleague (a one-time classical-music journalist turned book publisher), who asked me what I thought. "Well," I started, but before I could find the words, he said, "Exciting but empty, right?" That was exactly right.

Metromix. 10 years after Solti's death, impact still felt at CSO

Waiting for Gilbert

Terry Teachout's assessment of Alan Gilbert is spot-on. My friends in classical-music circles are scratching their heads over the appointment. These are people who pay close attention to the music world, and while they don't dislike Gilbert, they also have to admit that they cannot point to a performance or body of work or recording that was particularly memorable or worthy of celebration.

I have never heard a Gilbert performance, so I cannot speak about him one way or another. Still, I don't think the Philharmonic has ever raised to such an august position someone with such slender accomplishments. Let's hope they are guessing right.

Commentary Online Article - Selling Classical Music

I'm Back

I don't expect anyone missed me. However, while I was on vacation, I noticed this, from a book review in the Times. (I'm sure I'm not the only one to have blogged about it, either.)

"Fathers in America used to have sons. Now they have mini-me’s. Pop and his offspring head out to the mall dressed in the same outfits: baggy shorts, sneakers, athletic socks and T-shirt, topped by a baseball cap. At home they watch Cartoon Network, play video games and eat lots of breakfast cereal. One is older and bigger, the other smaller and younger, but their tastes overlap to a remarkable degree. Today’s child truly is father to the man."

I only mention this because I read these words at the breakfast table, where I was finishing my third bowl of Froot Loops and wearing my SpongeBob pajama pants. (True.) According to the author of the book under review, I am thereby destroying Western Civilization. Readers of these pages, judge for yourselves!

The Death of the Grown-Up - Diana West - Book - Review - New York Times