Jonas Kaufmann: the newest Bayerische Kammersänger!

Some great news for unser Jonas on Monday night: during the curtain call for "Trovatore" he was surprised by Intendant Nikolaus Bachler and the Bavarian Minister of Culture, who announced to a surprised audience-and tenor-that Kaufmann is now a Bayerische Kammersänger. According to the Bayerishce Staatsoper blog about the event, they're all very proud of themselves: they invited all of Kaufmann's family and friends (including Bryn Terfel and Simon Keenleyside) without anyone leaking it to the man himself. Kaufmann certainly looks surprised: I've never seen a grown man squee-hug quite like that before! It looks, at one point, like he's even wiping tears away.

Congratulations, Jonas, and happy birthday!

Song of the Week: Va, Tosca!

Because it is scary as hell and I love it.

Burn, baby: Gotterdammerung in HD

It probably comes as no surprise to anyone, but "Götterdämmerung" blew me out of the water last night. It was one of the most bombastic performances i've ever seen. I don't know why people whine about Wagner being pedantic and boring when his work simply clobbers you over the head with its greatness.

Musically, it was impeccable. The Met Orchestra under Fabio Luisi was ON, Deborah Voigt was ON, Jay Hunter Morris was ON, everyone was just (say it with me) on. Morris especially rocked the house-he's a very good actor as well as a great singer. He was appropriately bouncy (I found myself thinking "Oh, Siegfried" in wry amusement more than once), and I thought he handled the magic potion and its antidote very well. I loved the way he stumbled when he first drank it, and how he kept shaking his head as though to clear water from his ears, when his memories of Brunnhilde tried to surface. Siegfried is such a lovable meathead that you kind of have to forgive him for being such an idiot. I loved his ridiculous flower crown during Act 2: it struck me as a symbol of the tragedy of the whole thing, that he seriously has no idea what is happening as he blithely cavorts with Gutrune.

I also loved his interaction with the Rhinemaidens. The shy wave he gave them when they first popped up was hilariously teenage-boyish. And when Hagen stabbed him, and all his memories came back! Morris really played that scene well; it was simply stunning, especially with how the music echoed Brunnhilde's awakening in the previous opera. It was all so sad and beautiful that I was undone.

Deborah Voigt's Brunnhilde was also fabulous. I know that many people have panned her in this role, but I found her utterly believable. This Brunnhilde runs the gamut of all emotion: from love and cheekiness to bewilderment and grit to traumatized outrage and finally peace. Deborah Voigt had me in tears during the Immolation Scene-tears and chills. The dignity with which she walked onstage during Gunther and Hangen's fight just took my breath away. I think she deserved every single one of those bouquets thrown at her during the curtain call and more.

Let's see: Gunther and Gutrune. I kind of found myself wishing that Brunnhilde would take a potshot at Gutrune, because Wendy Bryn Harmer played her as such a devious, bitchy woman. That was what I got from her, at least. She reminded me of one of those high school brats who knows she's up to no good, and is having a good time until things start to go wrong. And Iain Paterson's Gunther was so much fun to hate: loathsome, spineless, self-pitying loser that he was.

Hans-Peter Konig is one of my favorite basses ever. His Hagen was a delight: you almost feel sorry for him. Konig's voice is rich and dark and powerful, and he is such a good actor that I'm not surprised they brought him back for every single one of the Ring operas. Irrevocably, unutterable fabulous.

I know that pretty much everyone has panned Robert Lepage's production, but I like it. I like The Machine. Yes, it's clunky and unwieldy, but it's still fun and innovative and interesting. It's appropriately grandiose, I think. And the way they use the CGI in the background is actually quite interesting. Anyway, it's the actors who drive the show, and they all did a wonderful job. That, too, is Lepage: he is not just responsible for the Machine, but for all the movements of the singers onstage, and let's face it, they're very good. I'm hardly a Ring connoisseur, but I feel that when you have a semi-traditional production that manages to avoid the stranger stagings (such as setting the whole thing during the Industrial Revolution, or whatever), the last thing we need to worry about is the way the set rotates.

Besides, this Cycle gave us the likes of Terfel, Kaufmann, Westbroek, Blythe, Voigt, Morris, Konig, Meier, Owens, and heaven knows who else. Really, when you have such awesome singers singing their hearts out, why fuss about the set?

This concludes my first ever Ring Cycle. I went into each of these operas with no expectations and came out blown away. For a first-timer, the Met's new Ring was a brilliant introduction to Wagner's weird, wild and wonderful world.

Siegfried: Thoughts of a Novice Wagnerian

First of all, do you have any idea how hard it is to get from one side of Berlin to Potsdamer Platz? I was sprinting by the time I got there, hurtling across streets teeming with traffic, but so help me, I was not going to miss this because the public transportation sucked.

I am not by any stretch of the imagination a music scholar, nor is there anything I can't say that hasn't been said better by other bloggers here. So this review is that of one girl who was introduced to Wagner only in May and is completely bowled over.

It was amazing.

There, I said it. I thought the entire production, from beginning to end, questionable baby-snatching and recaltricent Machine aside, was simply unbelievable. Jay Hunter Morris was flat-out adorable as Siegfried. I'd never heard of Morris before, but I was impressed. He's a tall, huge, adorable Texan (that accent! It was so nice to hear someone twanging; you have no idea), and I found his Siegfried was the perfect mix of eagerness, ambition, crassness, loneliness, and youth. He was immature but full of bravado. He bounced and ran and flopped and grumbled, and was altogether a teenage boy on a mission. When he hid under the blanket, plugging his ears against Mime's lecture in Act One, I grinned. I chuckled when he sat on the table like a child, swinging his legs, right after threatening to kill Mime if he didn't surrender information on his parents. When he ran off after the bird at the end of Act Two and had to come back onstage for Nothung, I laughed out loud. Siegfried is not an easy character to like ("He's very young and he's very handsome and he's very strong, and he's very brave, and he's very stupid..."), but Morris won me over. His Siegfried is like that adorable meat head that we all knew and loved in high school. The one you want to punch half the time.

Bryn Terfel can do no wrong in my mind, so I'm probably not a reliable witness here. But I found his Wanderer to be wise, jaded, a little dangerous, even funny. I liked how he took his shoes off and stretched a little in Mime's forge, and how he conjured Erda in Act Three. His scene with Siegfried was also interesting, especially when you consider that he's the kid's grandfather. There's a weariness to the character that I find touching: He knows that he's given into the Ring's curse. He forsook love when he abandoned Siegmund and Brunnhilde, and he knows it. Now he wants it to be over. I found the spear-shattering scene very poignant. His wig was, admittedly, rather Saruman-esque, but I liked the black contact and eye make-up they gave him. It was also fun to read Bryn Terfel's Tweets during the intermissions: Time for a cup of t. R Flemming looking for interviews., and so on.

Hans Peter Koenig! I love you Hans Peter Koenig!

And now, I bring you to the scene that left me weak in the knees and stumbling like a drunk out of that theater: the great love duet. One of the interviewees described it as a "fight to the death", and I have to agree. A really, really gorgeous fight to the death. Siegfried was, again, adorable in his wide-eyed contemplation of Bruennhilde, and how he scampered away to the back of the stage when she began to wake up. I'll admit that my first thought, when Brunnhilde opened her eyes, stretched, and flopped over, was "Ooh, nap hangover! I hate those". And then I forgot all about it, because she was just so sweet and awed and happy to be awake, and thrilled that Siegfried was there, and feeling strange because she woke up human. Her music morphed into the duet, and her caution to treat her "carefully, I was once immortal and am not quite sure how to handle this". I found her uncertainty very touching. Deborah Voigt really played it well; I find her Brunnhilde very accessible and believable. The whole thing just got louder and louder and more and more passionate, until the only thing that could possibly happen was for it to end. And as I was at the end of Act One of Die Walkuere, I was weak in the knees and totally verklempt. This was exactly the kind of evening I needed after a long week.

Bottom line? I cannot freaking wait for Goettedaemerung. If I had the money, too, I would go see the complete cycle in the spring.

31 Days of Halloween: Day 10

This is just about the scariest aria I've ever heard in my life. It's also one of the most gorgeous. Something about the pure evil mixed with the religious devotion just scares the hell out of me.

I should probably just throw in the towel and admit that I need to see Tosca, even though it will undoubtedly reduce me to a quivering heap of uncontrolled sobbing. Seriously. I can hardly listen to the music without losing it. Luckily I hear that Covent Garden is putting out a dvd of the Terfel/Kaufmann/Georghiu lineup they had this summer, so that'll probably be the one I buy and watch. And sob hysterically over. I'm listening to Kaufmann's E Lucevan le stelle now and man, is it heartbreaking.

Speaking of Kaufmann, guess who I get to see perform on Wednesday? ;) I will try to overcome my shyness and dislike of irritating people and ask for a picture and an autograph. I might never forgive myself if I don't. But you can bet your bottom dollar that I'll blog the entire concert to death.