Vivien Schweitzer, "Full-Throttle Emotion and Blind Faith," The New York Times, April 7, 2014, p. C3. ("Vivien Schweitzer" is one of the names used by "Jennifer Shuessler" a.k.a. Jill Abramson. Kristina Opalais receives a good review in Butterfly. Renata Scotto, falsely, is said to have rejected emotional commitment to acting the great Puccini parts. No source is listed for the quote or opinion attributed to Ms. Scotto. Even if the quote and comments are genuine, which I doubt, this is unprofessional and questionable journalistic ethics. Similarly, last Sunday's paper attributed a misunderstanding of "rationalism" to Barbara Ehrenreich. In fact, Ms. Scotto is one of the great singing actors, along with Maria Callas and Mr. Domingo. Ms. Scotto has clearly influenced Kristina Opalais. In her memoir, Renata Scotto spoke of the obligation to bring the great Verismo roles to life with effective acting for each generation of audience members without actually dying on stage.)
Renata Scotto & Octavio Roca, Scotto: More Than a Diva (New York: Doubleday, 1984), pp. 127-128. ("Verismo is a little more difficult because it is so much more realistic yet so concentrated ..." and intense.)
Michael Cooper, "For Soprano, From 'Butterfly' to 'Boheme,' in a Flash," The New York Times, April 6, 2014, p. A23. ("Michael Cooper" may also be "Vivien Schweitzer.")
John W. Freeman, The Metropolitan Opera: Stories of the Great Operas (New York & London: The Metropolitan Opera Guild & W.W. Norton, 1984), p. 332. (James Levine, Foreword; Introduction by Peter Allen.)
There are some theatrical and musical experiences that every person should have -- or delight in -- especially in youth. Every woman, in particular, should experience a great performance of Shakespeare's tragedy "Romeo and Juliet" during the course of an early infatuation with a boy who adores her, but is not considered suitable by her family.
Every young woman's first genuine erotic adventure deserves the accompaniment of Weber's ballet music from "Spectre de La Rose."
And every woman who is deeply in love for the first time in her life, pondering Hamlet's questions and oppositions ("to be or not to be" ... ), Freud's stark choice between love (eros) and death (thanatos), while coming to know the full enjoyment of her female power and stage presence (every woman is on stage at least on her wedding day!) -- should relish a great interpretation of Puccini's La Boheme.
On Saturday, April 5, 2014 the MET's La Boheme that featured an expected star-turn by Vittorio Grigolo -- the young Italian lyrical tenor, who has inherited the mantle of his idol and teacher, Luciano Pavarotti -- contained an Opera-within-the-Opera in the form of a nerve-wracking, 11th-hour search for a soprano to replace the ailing Anita Hartig in the lead role.
Ms. Hartig came down with the flu immediately after her MET debut in the starring role of "Mimi." The performance on Saturday was scheduled for broadcast on HD screens for hundreds of thousands of persons beyond those at the MET theater.
"The rising Soprano Kristina Opalais who had just sung the title role of Puccini's 'Madama Butterfly' for the first time at the MET on Friday night, was awakened at 7:30 A.M. Saturday with a phone call from Peter Gelb, the MET's general manager [sic.] who made a bold request: could she [Ms. Opalais] possibly sing the role of Mimi that afternoon in the matine [sic.] of 'La Boheme,' [sic.] to replace an ailing Anita Hartig."
The rest, as they say at the Espresso line at the MET's Grand Tier, is history.
Ms. Opalais -- who admitted getting to bed shortly after midnight, but not getting to sleep "until 5:00 A.M."! -- would sing the challenging role of "Mimi" that very afternoon.
Discretion, naturally, prevents me from inquiring just what the naughty Ms. Opalais was up to galavanting around town after her "death" on stage as Cio-Cio San in Madama Butterfly.
Perhaps Ms. Opalais was accompanied by a young "Pinkerton" from Manhattan? After all, most sopranos can, as it were, walk and chew gum at the same time.
No doubt Ms. Opalais enjoyed the opportunity to be "Musetta" before singing "Mimi" in order to die, heroically and yet again, on the MET's stage while tossing off a B flat aria to say nothing of her lovely floating pianissimi lamentations at the loss of life and beauty in the form of her "Rodolfo."
Puccini's high Romantic celebration of love's passionate embrace and "embodiment" in art (this Opera) -- poetry, music, the philosopher's genius -- is the "first kiss of Spring" that "Mimi" will receive this very afternoon, perhaps, and for the second time in 24 hours. Not bad, Ms. Opalais.
All of this "joy" in the arms of her lover takes place in a Parisian roof-top garett. As Ms. Opalais may remind us in her charming German accent with green eyes sparkling from lack of sleep: "Sopranos need more than applause!"
The metaphor of the flower that crumbles into fallen petals (her "self" that is given to "Rodolfo") is transformed into the pink bonnet ("Rodolfo's" heart given to "Mimi"). The sexual image in the Act I Soprano aria that is repeated in the duet is obvious.
Mr. Grigolo's Italian phrasing is flawless and intense, perfect for the Verismo repertoire. He has done his home work listening to classic recordings by Di Stefano, Bergonzi, Pavarotti, Carreras.
I heard two of those distinguished predecessors sing at the MET, and gloried in "Rodolfo's" aria Che gelida manina as well as the two more dramatic tenor/soprano duets in the Opera that could not be done better today by any singers of which I am aware.
Mr. Grigolo sang his heart out, giving everything he had to the audience, which is all that we can ask of any artist. He repeated the gesture of "giving away his heart" during his final bows.
Mr. Grigolo's voice is well-placed and secured by a sophisticated technique that illustrates his excellent training with Mr. Pavarotti, revealing bright colors in the upper registers of his voice and pastel shades in the middle tessitura that makes up for any lack of heft or spinto quality in the high C range. Bravo, maestro!
Susana Philips as "Musetta" is simply gorgeous-looking and will receive, I am sure, thunderous applause in Italy before she sings a note. Not only is she very pretty, sexy in this sexy role, but Ms. Philips is also blessed with a rich and deep sound in her middle register that fills the MET easily. I am eagerly looking forward to her performance in Cosi Fan Tutti.
"Marcello" is a young baritone not known to me. Regrettably, I did not have a program for the evening and cannot provide the gentleman's name at this time. I hope to do so soon. I am sure that this elegant young singer will make a great Scarpia some day because of the echoes of Renato Bruson and Tito Gobbi in his voice. (Massimo Cavalletti, I am told, is the young baritone's name.)
Colline, Schaunard, and all of the players-singers were fine, as usual, at the MET.
Having said all of this, it must be admitted that Ms. Opalais stole the performance, or made the triumph her own, by providing all of us with a living definition and example of the what the word "Diva" is all about: The fatigue and circles under her eyes were perfect for the dying "Mimi's" Act I Mi chiamano Mimi and much more for the Act III duet Addio, dolce svegliare following "Rodolfo's" Mimi, `e tanto malata!
Ms. Opalais has caused me to regret missing her Butterfly. I will look for recordings by this amazing young singer who is blessed also with physical presence and beauty. I hope to see her on stage next season. I may be able to get tickets hanging from the chandeliers ($25.00) for the current run of Madama Butterfly that will play until May 9th.
Ms. Opalais is a "singing actor" in the tradition of Teresa Stratas and Maria Callas, whose performance reminded me also of Renata Tebaldi and Renata Scotto. My first Opera was Ms. Scotto's Butterfly with Placido Domingo as Pinkerton.
Ms. Opalais possesses a subtle, gentle, highly feminine quality in her voice and the surprising ability to fill a large theater with her caressing falsetto.
The women's voices balanced, perfectly, and complimented baritone and tenor (when necessary) rendering the entire performance better than I would have thought possible. The men were very good, even as the women were a bit more dazzling and spectacular, as they often are in life.
The conducting was a little shaky at the outset, but gained in confidence during the course of the performance. A suggestion is not to miss the significance of Puccini's use of Giacosa's and Illica's association in the libretto of the leads with "poetry," then "life" and "love," as contrasted with "misery" and "death" -- the absence of love.
Love is always "now," for Puccini, writing in middle age of his misspent youth. Puccini gestures at Verdi's Traviata as his heroine is lost in "death's dateless night."
The audience at the MET these days is mostly older than sixty. More than one person, seemingly, felt the absence of a lover and appreciated the beauty as well as poignancy of this masterpiece in a way that most very young people, perhaps, cannot. La Boheme served as the inspiration for the hit show "Rent" on Broadway and in a movie version.
Ms. Opalais broke my heart as "Mimi." Bravissima. I will offer my own poor roses in humble gratitude in the form of Oscar Wilde's poem for another diva and thespian, the "fair creature of an hour" Wilde remembered throughout his life as Shakespeare's "Portia":
PORTIA
[For Ellen Terry]
I marvel not Bassanio was so bold
To peril all he had upon the lead,
Or that proud Aragon bent low his head
Or that Morroco's fiery heart grew cold:
For in that gorgeous dress of beaten gold
Which is more golden than the golden sun
No woman Veronese looked upon
Was half so fair as that whom I behold.
Yet fairer when with wisdom as your shield
The sober-suited lawyer's gown you donned.
And not the laws of Venice yield.
Antonio's heart to that accursed Jew --
O' Portia! take my heart: it is thy due.
I think I will not quarrel with the Bond.
