“Filling Out the Frock Coat”
“Stiffelio”
by Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901).
The Metropolitan Opera, Saturday 23 January 2010, 8PM
[Excerpts]
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Stiffelio @ the Met, Jan 2010
A Wife’s Betrayal, a Husband’s Internal
Anthony Tommasini
January 12, 2010
New York Times
[Excerpts]
In 1993 the Metropolitan Opera presented its first production of Verdi’s neglected opera “Stiffelio” as a vehicle for Plácido Domingo. Without that star tenor in the demanding title role, and without James Levine conducting, the Met would not have taken a risk on the work, which had a dismal reception at its 1850 premiere in Trieste, Italy.
The risk paid off. Performed in a critical edition that incorporated newly discovered parts of the autograph manuscript, “Stiffelio” was revealed as a realistic human drama about an evangelical minister in mid-19th-century Austria, facing a spiritual crisis after his wife’s infidelity. If the music is not at the inspired level of the operas that immediately followed it (“Rigoletto,” “Il Trovatore” and “La Traviata”), the score offers first-rate Verdi. The production, a realistic, handsome but unexceptional staging by Giancarlo del Monaco, broadcast on public television, offered Mr. Domingo in his prime.
Mr. Domingo was back on Monday night for the revival of “Stiffelio,” last seen at the Met in 1998. But this time he was in the pit, conducting. Stiffelio was the Argentine tenor José Cura, who actually began his career as a conductor. While Mr. Cura, an enormously gifted artist, has a loyal fan base, his singing can be erratic and has been variously received in recent years. Over all, he had a good night.
Mr. Domingo’s conducting has also been a source of great debate. He is no match for the other Verdi conductors that the Met will be presenting in the next two months: Mr. Levine in “Simon Boccanegra” and Riccardo Muti in “Attila.” If anything, Mr. Domingo was deferential to the singers to the point that the music lost energy, focus and drive. Occasionally there were hesitant moments of ensemble and shaky entrances.
“Stiffelio” is a drama of internalized conflicts and emotion. Mr. Cura has made his name with vocally raw, vehement portrayals of hotheads, especially Otello and Samson. Here he tried to convey the solemnity of this minister, seething inside over his wife’s betrayal. In bringing restraint and finesse to his singing, he sometimes let the energy drain away. At its best, his performance had flashes of vocal charisma. Still, I wish he had made more of the vocal and emotional similarities between this role and Otello.
Ms. Radvanovsky again proved herself a compelling Verdi soprano. She sang with utter integrity, supple phrasing, nuanced colorings and aching vulnerability. Her bright, strong voice filled Verdi’s lines and penetrated the orchestra without forcing. The only debatable element of her singing, as usual, was the quality of her sound, which has a tremulous vibrato and a slightly earthy, grainy texture.
The baritone Andrzej Dobber brought his muscular, rather bellowing voice to the role of Stankar, Lina’s father, an elderly colonel who, humiliated by his daughter’s transgression, tries to keep Stiffelio in the dark. The bass Phillip Ens was a stentorian Jorg, a severe, elderly minister who counsels Stiffelio.
Verdi’s opera is the big news, though. It is time for “Stiffelio” to take its place in the Verdi canon.
“Stiffelio” runs through Jan. 30 at the Metropolitan Opera House, Lincoln Center; (212) 362-6000, metopera.org.
‘STIFFELIO’ (Tuesday) In 1993 the Metropolitan Opera presented a company premiere production of Verdi’s little-known opera “Stiffelio” as a vehicle for Plácido Domingo, who compellingly sang the title role of a 19th-century Evangelical Protestant minister facing a shattering spiritual crisis over the infidelity of his wife. Mr. Domingo is back for the revival of “Stiffelio,” the first Met performances since 1998. But this time he is in the pit, conducting. The title role is sung by José Cura, who reins in his burnished, sometimes wild tenor voice to give an intelligent and effective performance. As Lina, Stiffelio’s guilt-ridden wife, the soprano Julianna Di Giacomo takes over for Sondra Radvanovsky. New York Times
Stiffelio
Howard Kissel
January 12, 2010
New York Daily News
What could be more thrilling than to "discover" a Verdi opera?
The standard Verdi operas -- like "La Traviata," "Rigoletto," "Il Trovatore" -- are so familiar even people barely acquainted with opera recognize the tunes.
In my lifetime the number of Verdi operas that have become mainstays has increased. "Don Carlo" was a relative rarity in my youth. So was "Simon Boccanegra." Now it would be unimaginable not to hear them every few seasons. In retrospect it is inconceivable that Rosa Ponselle, who retired in the early '40s, never sang Desdemona at the Met because in the 20 seasons she sang there they never revived "Otello." I repeat, inconceivable.
But "Stiffelio," which returned to the repertory Monday night after 17 years, was not even performed at the Met until 1993. Is "Stiffelio" in the class of all the Verdi works mentioned earlier? No. Is it nevertheless an opera of great melodies and dramatic power worth getting to know better? Indeed it is.
For someone well acquainted with Verdi part of the pleasure of "Stiffelio" is hearing musical ideas that he will deal with in later operas much more powerfully than he does here. Even on its own terms, however, "Stiffelio" is impressive.
The reason it took almost a century and a half to be performed at the Met is that "Stiffelio" has a complicated history. Because of confrontations with the censors, Verdi had to make revisions in the libretto and score. The original got lost in the compromises made to comply with the censors.
I have a recording of a later version of the opera, retitled "Aroldo," based on a live concert performance by Eve Queler's Opera Orchestra of New York in 1979. I seldom listen to it. The version performed last night was based on a special edition of the score prepared for the Met in 1993, utilizing considerable material from Verdi's private papers, which made it possible to reconstruct the original 1850 version. It seemed much leaner and more dramatic than his revision 17 years later.
"Stiffelio" concerns a Protestant minister whose attitudes toward sin are quite severe -- until he discovers his wife, whom he loves deeply, has been unfaithful to him. His desire to forgive her and to make her happy seem far more Christian than the severe things he declares from the pulpit. It is an intensely arresting plot, and Verdi's music brings all its emotional complexities alive.
The opera begins with what my friend Karen Kennerly called "a shaggy dog of an overture," which seemed odd. But once the curtain rose on Michael Scott's set, a castle room adjoining a chapel, everything moved forward arrestingly. Scott's sets reinforce the severity of the opera's moral landscape.
The Met put together an exception cast to make a case for this unjustly neglected work. In the title role José Cura conveyed the minister's emotional anguish with deep poignancy. The power and directness of his singing and acting may have stemmed in part from his relationship with last night's conductor, Placido Domingo, who has been Cura's longtime mentor. Domingo seemed well control of the score and led his cast elegantly in the many gorgeous ensemble numbers.
The role of Stiffelio's wife Lina was taken by the young American soprano Sondra Radvanovsky, who, like Cura, is as skillful an actress as she is a singer. Her huge, carefully controlled voice was glorious in her piercing solos. It shone splendidly in the ensemble numbers.
Her father was sung by a mighty baritone, Andrjez Dobber. One looks forward to hearing him in all the great Verdi roles. Making his Met debut, tenor Michael Fabiano has a rich tenor voice and a stage presence that helped him portray Lina's oily lover. Phillip Ens was imposing as an older minister.
From the brilliance of scholar Kathleen Kuzrnick Hansell's restoration of the score to the directness of Giancarlo del Monaco's staging to the overwhelming power of the singing, "Stiffelio" is an especially impressive triumph for the Met.
Verdi's Evangelical Preacher Stiffelio, Brooding & Raging, Returns to the Met
Bruce-Michael Gelbert
Q On Stage – New York’s Performance and Arts Review
On January 11, the Metropolitan Opera revived Giuseppe Verdi's "Stiffelio" (1850) and Plácido Domingo, protagonist of the 1993 Met premiere and 1998 revival, this time presided in the pit. For the work, Verdi set the then contemporary tale of a German protestant minister, Stiffelio (Stiffelius), also called Rodolfo Müller, whose wife, Lina, has an affair with Raffaele von Leuthold, a young nobleman, in her spouse's absence. Lina's father, Count Stankar, avenges the family 'honor' by killing Raffaele and Stiffelio, inspired by the Book of John, Chapter 8, about Jesus refusing to condemn "l'adultera" (the 'adulteress')-"Quegli di voi che non peccò,/la prima pietra scagli" (Whichever among you is without sin, cast the first stone)-'pardons' Lina. Verdi predictably ran afoul of the Italian censors with this controversial subject and, dismayed by the disfiguring changes they demanded, withdrew the opera after its first productions-in Trieste, and in Napoli, the Papal States, and Bologna (as "Guglielmo Wellingrode," about a minister of state, a version Verdi loathed), and finally in Barcelona-and extensively reworked it for an 1857 premiere in Rimini, as "Aroldo," now with a more remote, 12th century setting and a Saxon knight, returning from the Crusades, instead of a clergyman, as central figure. The lost score of "Stiffelio" resurfaced in the 1960s and the opera has since been presented in a number of cities, including Parma, Köln, New York (in Brooklyn and Manhattan), Boston, and London, in editions reflecting increasing scholarship.
After a somewhat tentative start, during which soprano Jennifer Check, in the supporting role of Dorotea, Lina's cousin, made one of the strongest impressions, the performance caught fire in the duet, which becomes a trio with Stankar (Polish baritone Andrzej Dobber), in which Stiffelio (José Cura), discovers that Lina (Sondra Radvanovsky), is missing her wedding ring and explodes with fury. Radvanovsky offered beautiful high, quiet singing in Lina's first act prayer, and her ensuing confrontation with Dobber's unforgiving Stankar boasted the requisite blood-and-thunder and sensitivity alike, in good measure. The first act's climactic largo septet and chorus-in which recurring lines "Fatal, fatal mistero/tal libro svelerà" (This book will reveal a fatal mystery) refer to a copy of Klopstock's poetic and religious "Messias" (Messiah), in which an intimate letter from Raffaele to Lina is hidden-and the ensemble's stretta, both forcefully kicked off by Cura, were as grand as they should be, thanks to the aforementioned singers and Michael Fabiano (debut) as Raffaele, Phillip Ens as the older preacher, Jorg, and Diego Torre as Lina's other cousin, Federico, guided by Domingo.
Lina's dramatic second act recitative and agitated prayer, beside her mother's grave, and cabaletta, in which she bids Raffaele leave, after returning her ring, and leave her in peace, firmly reestablished Radvanovsky as a vibrant soprano, with an incandescent, chiaroscuro instrument, so well suited to Verdian bel canto.
Dobber contributed an imposing account of Stankar's despairing "Lina, pensai che un angelo" (Lina, I thought you were an angel), but the vengeance cabaletta "Oh gioia inesprimabile" (Oh inexpressible joy), requiring vocal agility, did not show him to advantage. In the brief, ungrateful role of the 'libertine' Raffaele, Fabiano disclosed a promising tenor.
Cura's brooding Stiffelio, bent on divorce, and Radvanovsky's contrite Lina, determined to confess to the man of the cloth what the husband would not hear, capped their portrayals with a penultimate scene "Opposto è il calle" (Opposite are the paths) of full intensity, and emotional subsequent scene in the church, suggesting the peace they have made with each other.
Giancarlo del Monaco's production, with lavish sets and costumes by Michael Scott and lighting by Gil Wechsler, is staged this season by David Kneuss.
Rare 'Stiffelio' proves worth reviving at Met
Posted on 01/14/2010
DAVID A. ROSENBERG
Stamford Times
Hour Theater CriticAlthough it has no familiar arias and its plot strains credulity, Verdi's "Stiffelio" at the Met Opera is a mesmerizing affair. Somehow, the idea of an evangelical minister who is perfectly comfortable with abstract morality but thrown when faced with personal demons, is more scarily relevant than ever. "Forgiveness is easy for a heart that has not been wounded," he says.
First presented at the Met in 1993, "Stiffelio" is certainly not a house stalwart. In fact, its very beginnings were rocky: the 1850 premiere was met not only with indifference but censorship. Blue noses objected to a soul-searching Protestant minister who, having been betrayed by his adulterous wife, forces her to divorce him, then is forced in turn to forgive her when she pleads her case. Verdi was so disillusioned with the initial reception that he transformed part of "Stiffelio" into another opera, "Ardolo," which didn't fare much better.
Now the 1993 Met production is back and its melodramatic plot and dynamic score are well suited to an evening of honor, sex, love, vengeance, sin, corruption, sacrifice and death. Returning from a trip, the minister Stiffelio begins to suspect that his wife, Lina, has betrayed him with a nobleman named Raffaele. Lina's father, Count Stankar, begs his daughter to hold her tongue. But the truth eventually comes out. That the betrayal actually occurred between Lina and Raffaele has to be hammered into everyone's head over and over again, is one of the evening's less believable points.
Lina protests she loves Stiffelio and that Raffaele seduced her, completely glossing over the fact that it takes two to tango. We are, obviously, way past being shocked by sexual affairs of the rich, famous and political.
All this doesn't matter in the face of a sumptuous score, even though conductor Plácido Domingo seems to pull back on the music's dynamics, until he lets go towards the end. What he does beautifully is suggest the dark and dreadful underlying secrets that envelop the characters.
For this, he and directors Giancarlo del Monaco and David Kneuss deserve every credit. The singers play all this as if it were "King Lear," led by soprano Sondra Radvanovsky, whose Lina is something to hear and watch. Passionately yet subtly, she suggests a woman torn between desire and duty. It is a very moving, emotional performance sung with piercing ardor.
José Cura digs into Stiffelio's sorrows with restraint, while Andrezej Dobber is a stentorian Count who manages to skirt the role's more over-the-top actions, such as threatening to shoot himself. Michael Fabiano, making his debut as Raffaele, is an attractive figure with a burnished voice who surely has a bright career ahead.
The atmospheric production (sets and costumes by Michael Scott, lighting by Gil Wechsler) contributes to the evening's success. The superb Met chorus under Douglas Palumbo doesn't have much to do but, as always, is unbeatable. "Stiffelio" is no "Rigoletto," "Traviata" or "Aida," but its smaller canvas is both satisfying and compelling.
AVA graduate makes an impressive Met debut
David Patrick Stearns
13 January 2010
Philadelphia Inquirer
NEW YORK - Verdi's Stiffelio is an infrequent visitor to the Metropolitan Opera - or any company - and couldn't be a more unlikely vehicle for an important vocal debut. Yet Philadelphia-based tenor Michael Fabiano, one of the Academy of Vocal Arts' most promising graduates, made it work for his Met debut on Monday amid the building critical mass of his career.
The linchpin, though, was Monday's Stiffelio opening, in which Fabiano could have been hemmed in by the towering presence of tenor José Cura singing in the title role and none other than Placido Domingo conducting in the orchestra pit. But instead of fading into the considerable scenery of the Met's handsome Giancarlo del Monaco production, he was more than noticed, receiving a healthy, well-deserved ovation in his final curtain call.
Stiffelio itself comes off remarkably well. I don't remember being nearly as taken with it when the production was new in 1993 (when Domingo was singing rather than conducting), but now it seems like time extremely well spent. The title role's piety doesn't exactly harness Cura's sex appeal, and vocally, he has reestablished himself as a major Verdi tenor.
As his unfaithful wife, Lina, Sondra Radvanovsky delivered the most vocal joy, not with some rich creamy sound but with a vulnerability that seemed to show you the character's soul.
The sets are models of Franco Zeffirelli-influenced picturesque realism but without the circuslike clutter.
Might much of the opening's success be because of Domingo? His conducting receives mixed reviews, and indeed, the overture's tentative trumpet-solo entrance didn't bode well for the rest of the opera. Yet what came after often felt like a major Verdi score. No surprise to find a recent interview in which Domingo calls Stiffelio "without any doubt, a great opera."
Stiffelio
Elizabeth Barnette
Classicalsource
While Verdi's “Rigoletto”, “Il trovatore” and “La traviata” are amongst the most popular works in the repertoire, “Stiffelio”, immediately preceding this trio in 1850, is almost unknown for reasons which have nothing to do with its musical qualities, but with political censorship. Its plot, the story of a Protestant minister who eventually forgives his unfaithful wife was so unacceptable to the censors in Trieste that they demanded extensive changes. In Verdi's eyes these ruined the substance of the libretto, hence he withdrew Stiffelio, re-worked part of it into his 1867 opera “Aroldo”, and abandoned the rest. The score was believed to be lost until the 1960s, when manuscript copies of “Stiffelio” and “Guglielmo Wellington” (a non-authentic adaptation) were discovered in Naples and Vienna; a few performances were attempted, but all with censored texts.
It was not until 1993 that a new critical edition was prepared by Kathleen Hansell from a variety of sources – the autograph score of “Aroldo”, the censored manuscripts, and remaining original materials at the composer's home, Sant' Agata, which were made available by the Verdi family for the first time. After The Royal Opera (Covent Garden) premiered this ‘new’ score in January 1993, the Metropolitan presented it that same year, and again in 1999, with Plácido Domingo in the title role.
Domingo returned for this revival as well, but this time to conduct, which he has been doing for many years now, but his technical shortcomings are still in evidence. The co-ordination between pit and stage left much to be desired, he frequently brought the orchestra in late, and at the end of Stankar's aria in the third act things came apart completely for a couple of bars.
The Argentinean tenor José Cura found himself in the peculiar position of having to sing a rarely performed role conducted by the man most closely identified with it. His voice is on the dark side, almost covered at times, but his dramatic portrayal of the anguished, betrayed minister supplied the intensity sometimes lacking in his vocal delivery.Sondra Radvanovsky as his wife Lina gave a fine dramatic performance as well, but the palette of her vocal expressiveness is severely limited. She produces plenty of sound, but of a rather strident and piercing kind, and frequently below pitch. One misses roundness and modulation in her voice, and nuanced, controlled softer dynamics.
The most impressive of the major roles was Andrzej Dobber's Stankar, Lina's father. Singing with ample resonance as well as expressiveness, the Polish baritone convincingly portrayed the elderly officer obsessed with honor and shamed by his daughter's infidelity. Michael Fabiano, a bright, lyrical tenor, was the rather shy seducer Raffaele, bass Phillip Ens a stentorian clergyman Jorg, and soprano Jennifer Check was impressive in the small role of cousin Dorotea.
Giancarlo del Monaco's production, featuring a dark, wood-paneled library for the first and beginning of the last acts, a churchyard for the second, and the interior of a church for the last scene, perfectly conjured up the oppressive atmosphere of the drama. Although there are no arias to whistle on one's way home, “Stiffelio” is by no means lesser Verdi. It somewhat foreshadows “Otello” in dramatic structure, “La traviata” in the scene between Lina and her father, and the chorus in the last scene is truly extraordinary. Although the subject matter was too radical for the 1850s, nowadays this impressive work surely deserves a place in the repertoire.
Stiffelio at the Met
HoyesArt
15 February 2010
Verdi composed Stiffelio after Luisa Miller and before his trilogy, which ended his so-called ‘years in the galleys.’ The libretto was written by one of his usual collaborators, Francesco Maria Piave, based on the book ‘Le Pasteur ou LÉvangile et le foyer,’ written by Souvatre Emile and Eugéne Bourgeois.
The story follows a Protestant minister (Stiffelio), back home after a trip, when he discovers that his wife (Lina) has been unfaithful with a nobleman (Raffaele). Lina’s father (Stankar) tries to keep this forbidden relationship secret. When the pastor learns of it, he goes into a profound spiritual crisis and a severe internal conflict that will be resolved during the Sunday sermon when, before the faithful, he quotes from scripture, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”
Back from Oblivion
The opera was premiered in Trieste in 1850 and quickly disappeared from the stage. Stiffelio remained in oblivion until 1960 but (in my opinion) it was the performances that took place at the Met in November 1993 which led it to be produced at other theaters around the world.
[…]
José Cura (Stiffelio) offered a bravura tenor version suitable for the character in moments of anger, which sometimes resulted in a certain lack of refinement and prevents him from achieving enough lyricism in those moments when the shepherd must keep his moderation. His total dedication and fierceness [of delivery] provided for an undisputed ovation at the end
Sondra Radvanovsky (Lina) performed efficiently and with absolute brilliance and a powerful voice as the repentant pastor’s wife, despite a vibrato heard at some points. Andrzej Dobber (Stankar) sang reliably but without the brightness typical of the role.
The Met’s very good orchestra was conducted by Plácido Domingo…with some loss of intensity in the interpretation of the score. I was fortunate to have attended one of the performances in November 1993 with Levine in the pit and the result was far superior to the performance today. But I must note that, having been in this theater with Barenboim, Kleiber, Mazel, Levine and many others I have never heard an ovation like that which was levied on Sunday.
“Filling Out the Frock Coat”
“Stiffelio” by Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901).The Metropolitan Opera, Saturday 23 January 2010, 8PM
[Excerpts]
I’ve said it before in these pages: The conductor can make or break an opera. In the Metropolitan’s current revival of Verdi’s “Stiffelio,” an almost unknown work, that conductor is Placido Domingo, once one of the “3 Tenors,” for whom the Met revived the work (as a singer) in 1993. Despite his obvious passion for the music, and his considerate accompaniment of singers (as only a fellow vocalist might empathize), he is not a born conductor. I won’t say that he “broke” the opera, but it turned into a rather inert object most of the time, lacking sweep, structural cohesion, and rhythmic spring, further weakened by regrettable pit/stage ensemble discrepancies.
[...]
Priestly celibacy became policy in the Middle Ages, around the twelfth century. However, in the “Eastern Rite” (Catholicism as practiced in the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary and Ukraine) priests often are married. And even in today’s Roman Catholic church (since 1980), if a priest comes into the church from another faith that permits marriage, he may remain that way as a Catholic (evaluated on a case by case basis with special petition to the Pope). But in provincial nineteenth century Italy, out of the question! Verdi and his librettist set the story in a fictional evangelical sect in the western (Tyrol) part of Austria, having learned that a similar group historically had been persecuted there.
In Italian, a “stiffelio” (or “stiffelius”) is a frock coat, perhaps referring to the priestly garb that imprisons the title character in a self-righteous cocoon of desired vengeance, until his own sermon reminds him of Jesus’ injunction to forgive sin and sinners.
The singing had its good moments. Lina, the adulterous (most likely sexually neglected) priest’s wife, was sung by Julianna di Giacomo, and she produced some very impressive soft full bodied sounds. As Stiffelio, the “Argentinian tenor Messiah” José Cura sounded forced at times, though warmly lyrical at other times. The other roles were similarly fulfilled, but alas, not particularly memorable.
“The artist must peer into the future, perceive new worlds amongst the chaos, and if at the end of his long road he eventually discerns a tiny light, the surrounding dark must not alarm him. He must pursue that path, and if occasionally he stumbles and falls, he must rise up and continue.” Verdi
Frank Daykin, Innovative Music Programs
'If [Plácido Domingo] didn’t quite save Boccanegra, neither did he sink Stiffelio with conducting that has progressed over the years from vague to basically okay. It’s an opera that has had a long and winding history, having been censored, bowdlerized, lost, and eventually reassembled for its first complete performances in 1993, featuring…Plácido Domingo. Giancarlo Del Monaco’s elegantly lugubrious production is back, and this time the role of the cuckolded reverend went to José Cura, one of several pretenders to the tenorissimo’s crown, who covered himself with respectability, if not quite with glory. Sondra Radvanovsky sang the role of Stiffelio’s wife Lina with irresistible rawness, alchemizing vocal iffiness into fierce intensity.' Justin Davidson, New York Magazine, 19 January 2010
'José Cura sings Stiffelio. He is a pupil of Domingo’s and, like him, a conductor, and like him, a tenor with a baritonal approach. This suits Stiffelio better than most Verdi tenor roles — the part sits low, the high lines come only at emotional climaxes, and Cura does emotional climaxes well. His meditative moments are pleasing, his more passionate ones edge into growling lack of clarity.' Opera Today, 18 January 2010
'The Saturday matinee I attended was sold out and the cheers from the packed house would have probably continued until the evening performance—had the houselights not come up. Tenor José Cura as the deeply conflicted title character, soprano Julianna Di Giacomo, his wife Lina, and baritone Andrzej Dobber, her father Stankar, headed a first-rate cast—all of whom sounded glorious and all of whom acted persuasively.' Stephanie Sutow, Bacharach Blog @ Proactive Leadership Mag, 10 Feb 2010
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