Determine what prescisley is unique about your instrument. Is it an ability to colour? A specific technical feat? Agility? There can be no question the vocal instrument is of significant stature, otherwise you would not find yourself where you are today. But what can you do which is so personally yours that will draw audiences towards you? Once this single point is resolved, utilize it within everything you touch at some point in a work: it must critically become a signature.

As an example COMMANDOpera will use an air which is not operatic written by one Mr. Vernon Duke. Mr. Duke AKA Vladimir Dukelsky, Russian composer and friend of Prokofiev, wrote ballet scores for Balanchine and Diaghilev’s Ballet de Monte Carlo. In the United States, his music was commissioned by Serge Koussevitzky and the Boston Symphony. The work is titled ‘April In Paris’ and five versions by different artists are given, so that one may appreciate more clearly how to identify an air as ‘belonging’ to an artist.

Miss Fitzgerald.

Miss Day

Mr. Sinatra

Miss Vaughan

Miss Pons

Let us be clear. Historically there is a precedent for offering translated titles. During the earliest days of Opera when the art form was clearly entertainment of the masses, works were translated in their entirety for the better enjoyment of understanding by local audiences. Italian opera’s were routinely translated to Hungarian, French, English, and others, as were French works, or Russian, or Spanish, or English. Thus, it would make obvious sense to translate the title alongside the entire work. The strangeness of singling out the title alone for translation is incomprehensible to the thinking mind.

Opera today is not an inexpensive night out. As a matter of fact it as a rather pricey night out all in, yet one which is catching favour more and more with younger audiences. Marketing Opera should never take away from that cachet, as it remains the strongest feature for many under 40′s who attend. A night out at the Opera is valued as expropriated glamour for those who choose to attend. Forget about hockey mom’s: they are not interested nor do they have the ready dollars or time. The same can be advised of their male counterparts. Intelligent marketing strategy is directed to go where the money is situated, and these are not a demographic any theatre can hope to inculcate (unless bargain prices are offered and even then rarely if ever). When a theatre determines to cheapen their product in such manner, they must understand the result in such a devaluation; emptier seats. The demographic who is prepared to be drawn in looks for the flavour and elegance of every aspect, and do not deserve to be robbed of the exotic title which heads their purchase. This demographic is a rather savvy species who should not be thought as average. How odd for theatres to sell the allure of Opera in the original language with surtitles, yet determinedly remove this allure where it counts most, substituting the banal. COMMANDOpera can assure every American theatre who purveys this myopic marketing strategy, they are globally alone.

At the end of the day any theatre will do what they feel is correct for their particular market, regardless as to how indigestible it is to COMMANDOpera. The point of this article is to establish a level of awareness to those who read in America as to the thinking of how your regional house may percieve your intellect.

This is the sort of mail which COMMANDOpera enjoys receiving from a house. The Lyric Opera of Chicago seems to operate as something of a harbinger of things to come for other American houses. In this instance, the house has recorded operations for the 2009 2010 season were in the black from a fiscal perspective. Nevertheless, those who are aware, recognise the Lyric Opera is a well oiled machine who utilises every avenue to achieve sustainable results. The proverbial hat of COMMANDOpera is doffed towards the Lyric Opera for their continual correctness on how to get things done when presenting excellent Opera each year. Here is some of what the theatre had to say:

“Lyric Opera of Chicago sold 86% of its seating capacity for the 2009/10 season, surpassed its $16.6 million fundraising goal, and will report a break even operating performance for the year. To balance the budget, Lyric will use about $2.7 million in reserve funds from its Campaign for Excellence Fund, which was established in 2005. Lyric’s operating expenses for 2009/10 were $53 million. Ticket revenue for the 77-performance season was $24.3 million. The company raised more than$16.6 million in contributions. Fully audited financial statements will be issued in August.

Lyric has operated in the black for 22 of the past 23 years—a record among the country’s major not-for-profit music and performing-arts companies.

A grand total of 238,391 tickets were sold for the season, which comprised 77 performances of eight productions: Tosca, Faust, Ernani, Katya Kabanova, The Merry Widow, The Elixir of Love, The Damnation of Faust, and The Marriage of Figaro. In addition, the company presented two student performances of The Elixir of Love.

Commenting on the company’s year-end results, William Mason, general director of Lyric Opera, said, “The recession has had a significant and lasting effect on our patrons, particularly in subscription sales. While the company had its third-best year ever in individual-ticket sales, these results did not make up for the lower subscription level. Fortunately, we are in a strong financial position. We were able to cover revenue shortfall with Campaign for Excellence funds, and members of our various Boards—the Board of Directors, Women’s Board, Guild Board, Chapters’ Executive Board, and Ryan Opera Center Board—were particularly generous in this very difficult environment. We are also seeing positive growth in our endowment, which at year end stood at $139.8 million—a 30% increase from the prior year.”

Mason stated that fiscal responsibility was essential to maintaining the company’s artistic excellence. “Like every other business, Lyric must continue to be vigilant about spending and reduce costs wherever possible. As has been necessary for the majority of American opera companies, we have reduced the season to meet current audience demand. Lyric’s 2010/11 season will comprise 68 performances, down from 77 in 2009/10. Through layoffs and not filling vacant positions, we have again reduced our fulltime administrative staff. Nonpaid furloughs have been instituted for all staff. For the second consecutive year, salaries have been frozen—and in my case, reduced—for administrative staff in the top 15% of the pay scale. And recognizing our need for fiscal prudence, our orchestra musicians and stagehands have agreed to reasonable wage contracts, as all our unions must do for the long-term health of the company.”

Mason reported that total operating expenses for fiscal year 2011 are projected at $52.4 million, with the fundraising goal increased to $17.2 million.”

COMMANDOpera has watched the operation and dynamics between artists, management companies, theatres, publicists, and whoever else is looking to make a dime. Fortunately this industry still runs on basic good manners which is the correct underpinning of how business gets done. The realities are stark and basic; everyone is on friendly terms regardless of whether they like each other or not. Such trivialities as ‘personality’ are not paramount, nor should they get in the way of doing business. Professionalism is key.  No one but NO ONE demeans a house publicly in the media, as to do so is professional suicide. Seriously, why would a house re engage someone who has spoken ill of them….. in public? What a management company or an artist or a publicist may think of a house in private is another matter. The theatres are distinctly at the top of this particular food chain, so behave accordingly: with respectful silence always.

The relationship an artist has with their management is simply another business arrangement and nothing more. When considering management, remember it is you who are making money for them and not the other way around. It is your vocal talent which at the end of the day is the product for sale. What an agency is selling to an artist is their connections to the theatres. Too often COMMANDOpera has seen exceptional voices on the roster of the wrong management. Simply because a management agency exists does not mean you are one lucky artist because they determine to look at you. There is one small New York agency run by a Latin woman who has around 30 artists on her roster; some with the most extraordinary voices yet none who you would know. Her agency makes a big to do about engaging artists twice a year, but wary to those in the opinion of COMMANDOpera who move in such direction. Aspiring artists should do their homework. Look to see who is on the roster of a management company they are considering, and what those artists have accomplished. What engagements has the agency lined up for their artists as a whole? Are they internationally connected in scope or national, or are they even connected largely with opera? All agencies will take the time to hear you, don’t be fooled into thinking otherwise. Only rarely will a young artist be engaged by one of the short list of top management companies, and then only if they own the correct pedigree. Contracts usually run for three years at which point an artist can either stay with the company or move elsewhere, or the agency may not find you a good fit. To move vertically to a top tier agency takes time, and some years of excellent reviews in your back pocket before you are considered. And this fact alone establishes the critical nature of making the correct choice for your first agency. Relationships matter to a minor degree, but this is business so don’t listen to what they can tell you what they can do; LOOK at their track record. COMMANDOpera warrants you this, if your initial agency does little for you and you find yourself going no where it is because you did not do your research and have only yourself to blame. It is better to wait to get signed by the correct agency (stay on their case) then to go where your nothing more than expendable cattle.

COMMANDOpera will further note to an artist not to have high expectations on an agency to look after your publicity: that’s not their job. What has been outlined above for management applies directly to public relations. COMMANDOpera as a venue whose specific raison d’etre is to write on opera consequently has dealt with numerous of them, and has directly found the differences can be night and day. ALL artists require publicity, end of story. If your name remains in the public domain, your cache is that much higher, and this alone is what you pay a publicist to do. From the perspective of COMMANDOpera this necessitates more than availing the media to an artist. Once again it requires the underpinning of the way business is done: correct manners. If a publicist does not make the effort to interact with the media properly (if at all), then not only is the publicist not doing the job an artist is paying them to do, the media itself will stop doing business with the publicist in question. Choosing a publicist is as difficult yet as important as selecting your management. If you are not getting interview requests, or your name is not in any of the media, your with the wrong publicist.

Finally COMMANDOpera advises you get your work up on YouTube. This is a vocal art form you have determined to take part in, so it naturally follows that your voice must be noted within the public domain at every turn imaginable. A pretty face while an asset only opens the door of interest to the real object: your voice. COMMANDOpera marvels not a little each day at vocal artists who long for exposure yet do not offer the one thing the public wants from them. Let COMMANDOpera be the first to assure any vocal artist, the challenge the new media faces to bring them visibility to the public without it. Many elite artists find numerous ways of getting their work in the public domain on YouTube, which in turn is found by a venue such as COMMANDOpera who then may generate the global publicity so sought after. It doesn’t happen otherwise. An international career can virtually be assured via the savvy use of the new media. There are those who want it and are determined to go after it with full artillery, and COMMANDOpera is there next to them. For those artists who are too lazy (read: other commitments, kids, etc) to go for the jugular required to ascend the golden throne, find another career.

The Vancouver Opera is just too endlessly off the hook with everything they do. COMMANDOpera is so impressed, this article is filed under ‘The Master Class’ section.

Vancouver Opera Snowboard Auction Opens Today 

‘Rideable art’ snowboards feature illustrations by award-winning artist Edel Rodriguez

Beginning this week, four exclusive custom snowboards, illustrated by internationally-renowned artist Edel Rodriguez, will be put on the international auction block (EBAY) to raise funds for VO’s Young Artist Coaching Intensive program. Each of the four snowboards features award-winning artwork from Vancouver Opera’s Golden Anniversary Season: Norma, Nixon in China, The Marriage of Figaro and Madama Butterfly. All four boards are signed by the artist. “We thought Edel’s artwork was too cool to not use in some new way,” said Christopher Libby, Managing Director of Vancouver Opera. “The world doesn’t need another coffee mug. The bold graphics are just perfect for snowboards.” The one-of-a-kind boards, designed by VO’s graphic designer Annie Mack and produced by Prior Snowboards of Whistler, BC, can also be fitted with bindings if desired. “This is probably one of the cooler projects we’ve worked on,” said Prior owner Dean Thompson, “The artwork is just amazing. We’d love to do more like these.”

And here are the links to place your bid:

Norma: http://cgi.ebay.ca/Prior-Custom-Snowboard-Edel-Rodriguez-Opera-Artwork_W0QQitemZ160404934184QQcmdZViewItemQQptZSnowboarding?hash=item2558e10e28

Nixon: http://cgi.ebay.ca/Prior-Custom-Snowboard-Edel-Rodriguez-Opera-Artwork_W0QQitemZ160404935078QQcmdZViewItemQQptZSnowboarding?hash=item2558e111a6

Figaro: http://cgi.ebay.ca/Prior-Custom-Snowboard-Edel-Rodriguez-Opera-Artwork_W0QQitemZ160404936670QQcmdZViewItemQQptZSnowboarding?hash=item2558e117de

Butterfly: http://cgi.ebay.ca/Custom-Snowboard-Edel-Rodriguez-Artwork_W0QQitemZ160404937369QQcmdZViewItemQQptZSnowboarding?hash=item2558e11a99

The Guardian article; 

Joan Ingpen, who has died aged 91, was in charge of opera planning at Covent Garden from 1962 to 1971, which includes most of Georg Solti’s time as music director. Planning, which involves casting, is the machine room of any opera – though boffins there have no public profile. But decisions about who does what when on stage can make or break the company. Working for the Royal Opera, Ingpen displayed an extraordinary memory of the repertoire and of singers and conductors needed to perform it, although before she went to the Garden she had never been employed inside an established performing company. As Lord Harewood puts it: “She had an extremely efficient, methodical and accurate sort of mind. She certainly liked to plan far ahead.”

Ingpen took over from Harewood, but not directly. He had left to run the Edinburgh festival, and Solti, represented in Britain by Joan’s agency, Ingpen and Williams, fell out with his successor. In those days, Covent Garden maintained a substantial ensemble of quality singers. Joan Sutherland, whom Ingpen represented from 1953, was eventually – after three auditions – honoured with a position in the ensemble. It was a point of great satisfaction to Harewood to be able, in the late 1950s, to cast two cycles of The Ring and a full slate of understudies entirely from company singers (except for the role of Siegfried). Many performances involved guest stars as well.

Ingpen’s ideal was to settle rehearsal schedules three years in advance, and when she moved on to the Paris Opera and eventually to the New York Met, she transformed their forward planning. Hugues Gall, who worked with her and Rolf Liebermann (the then Paris Opera director from 1972 to 1977) saw her as a key person: “Because of how she would organise future plans, she forced every other great opera house in the world to follow her example – which was very good, but also very bad. Paris and London had to join her ‘ride to the abyss’, or they would be caught out. She was very impatient and she was like a computer, knowing every tenor in the world, every singer’s schedule. “In 1971 Rolf took me to London. He said we had to convince her to join us, because having her on board would mean we would be able to go on holiday or away for the weekend without any anxiety. With her in charge and in the theatre from 9am to midnight every day, powered only by Player’s Navy Cut and glasses of red wine, we would have no worries.”

But according to Gall there were other considerations. Italian opera managers kept their options open, in case the voice of the century materialised. And Liebermann also wanted to be able to change plans – which Ingpen hated. Towards the end of her Paris stint, an economy drive obliged Liebermann to abandon the new Ring production from Peter Stein for which they had especially paid Alberto Remedios – star of the English National Opera Ring – to study the role of Siegfried in German for a year, without taking other engagements. Ingpen attributed the problems to interfering bureaucrats, and maintained that the English system of Arts Council arms-length funding was best. When she was poached by the Met in 1977, Liebermann handed her casting and planning responsibilities to Gall, and in a few months she trained him to do the job. It was, he says, generous and invaluable from then on in his career.

Ingpen’s Irish father was 70 when she was born, and disappeared in what was rumoured to be a clandestine British government attempt to rescue the Russian royal family. Her father was 39 years older than her mother, and had known her mother as a baby and given her a baby brooch. After the trauma of his unexplained disappearance, she had a nervous breakdown and, prompted by the troubles, moved her children from Tipperary to Sussex. She never remarried. Ingpen remembered: “My father was so unmusical that he recognised the national anthem only because people were standing up.” But she studied at the Royal Academy and some thought she should have been a concert pianist. By 1939 she was a typist in a marine insurance broker’s office. But she was also an inveterate London concertgoer, and later in the war she was organising forces entertainment (Ensa) tours for Walter Legge.

She was also associated with Legge in the early stages of the Philharmonia Orchestra, which he launched in 1945. Legge worked for EMI and, to avoid accusations that he was financially benefiting from the orchestra at the expense of EMI, he got Ingpen, who by that time had set up her own agency with a loan of £100, to hold 40% of the Philharmonia stock while he took an equivalent share in Ingpen and Williams. In 1950, with the orchestra’s reputation secure, he forced her to sell back the stock. Ingpen and Williams combined the name of her first husband, which she always used professionally, and her maiden name, which she gave to her pet dachshund after the war. She was briefly married to Alfred Dietz, an artists’ agent, but the love of her life was the actor Sebastian Shaw, whom she represented in the 1950s and with whom she spent 40 years until his death in 1994: in fact she changed her name to Shaw.

Among her Covent Garden finds was Luciano Pavarotti whom she heard in Dublin. She hired him to understudy the ailing Giuseppe de Stefano as Rodolfo in La Bohème, and he went on to sing all but the first performance. It was a significant step up in his career. James Levine at the Met took her on after Placido Domingo told him about “this Englishwoman in Paris who always gets me to rehearse more than I mean to”. As with Solti, her view of singers tallied with his. When she arrived in New York, she joined a long roster of her fellow citizens including John Dexter as director of productions, and it was a period when the Met briefly woke up to theatrical values. In her time with Solti at the Garden, she had engaged Dexter to make his opera debut staging Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini. “The idea of going somewhere that is not state-run appeals to me very much,” she told me at the time. “I think the Met is now one of the most interesting places going.”

Ingpen was always ready to go that extra mile. One of her favourite stories concerned Wolfgang Windgassen phoning to tell her he could not sing Siegfried at 6pm at Covent Garden. “I phoned round Europe and found a substitute and went to Heathrow to meet him, to be confronted by a sign saying the flight would be an hour late. I got a Hounslow police escort to rush him through the traffic, but even so, I needed colleagues at Covent Garden to persuade Windgassen that he had enough voice after all to get through the first act.” It did not always work. In Paris in 1971, when Frederika von Stade cancelled a run of Cenerentolas, Ingpen got Teresa Berganza to do one performance – but there was nobody to do any of the others.

Her love of voices was conditional not absolute. “There has to be content. It’s got to mean something – it’s not birdsong!” She was never a Callas fan, and though she liked Domingo, her choice tenor would always be Julius Patzak. “Even when he was past his best, his Florestan was something you could cry at.” An interesting judgment from someone described by a colleague as having “a hard-edged diamond brain”.

Joan Mary Eileen Ingpen, concert agent, casting director and opera planner, born January 3 1916; died December 29 2007.

The Telegraph article;

Joan Ingpen, who died on December 29 aged 91, was a legendary figure among opera impresarios who co-founded the Philharmonia with Walter Legge; introduced the musical world to Georg Solti, Luciano Pavarotti and Joan Sutherland; and played major casting and administrative roles at three of the world’s leading opera houses: Covent Garden, Paris Opera and the Met in New York. She was, said Bernard Holland in The New York Times, “a walking cross index of opera singers and roles”, knowing who could sing what, who was scheduled to sing what and who might be available and when. Although she kept lists on faded legal pads and introduced computerised planning to the Met, most of her knowledge was kept in her mind.

It was in 1963, while working at the Royal Opera, that Ingpen heard Pavarotti in Verdi’s Rigoletto at the Dublin Grand Opera Society. She engaged him as understudy for the ailing Giuseppe di Stefano as Rodolfo in La Bohème with the promise of a Covent Garden debut in the final performance. In the event, Pavarotti sang all but the first of the 27 shows, launching a career that lasted until his death last year. One of her last – and happiest – finds, she said, came in the mid-1980s when she “discovered” Anne Sofie von Otter. Joan Ingpen’s abiding legacy will be Ingpen & Williams, the management agency that she founded in 1946. The most prominent London concert promoter at that time was Ibbs & Tillett, and Ingpen felt that any respectable impresario should similarly have a double name, giving the impression of being a solid partnership. But, being unable – or unwilling – to find anyone to work with, she took the name of her dachshund, Williams. This arrangement had the distinct advantage of the dog being unable to answer back.

Georg Solti was one of the artists she introduced to Britain, having worked with him at Ensa, the armed forces’ entertainment organisation, in the latter years of the war. Rudolf Kempe was another, and so was Joan Sutherland, whom Joan Ingpen first heard in 1951 when the Australian was studying at the Royal College of Music. Change came in 1961 when, having secured for Solti the post of musical director at Covent Garden, Joan Ingpen found herself entreated to join him. “Solti rang me up and said, ‘Sell your business and come to Covent Garden’,” she recalled in an interview with Opera News. She had recently been joined in her business by Howard Hartog, a brusque and autocratic champion of contemporary music and a man of few words, who was willing both to buy the company and to maintain its name.

Freed from the shackles of selling classical musicians to promoters, she moved to the Royal Opera as controller of opera planning, bringing to the post her agent’s understanding of the operatic milieu and the pressure they were under to increase singers’ fees. Forward thinking had until that time been a somewhat alien concept in Floral Street. “The coming season was just about planned,” she recalled, “but that was about it.” She immediately began making long-term plans with Solti, engaging singers and developing the Garden’s repertoire. She also became known as one of the few people able effectively to deal with the fiercly impatient musical director. “We called him Soltissimo, because he always wanted everything yesterday,” she noted. When Solti left Covent Garden in 1971 Joan Ingpen made clear her displeasure at the prospect of working for his successor, Colin Davis, feeling that the post should have gone instead to Charles Mackerras. She worked for one season with Davis, “but I think he was pleased to see me go”.

She was reunited with Solti, by now at the Paris Opera under the general direction of Rolf Liebermann, where she continued in much the same vein as she had in London, until Placido Domingo persuaded James Levine to bring her to the Metropolitan Opera, New York, which in 1981 was recovering from a bitter industrial dispute. It was not to be a happy assignment, with The New York Times describing Joan Ingpen as “a martinet with an obsession with fixing casts in cement for years in advance”. It also was not long before she encountered difficulties in pinning down the notoriously vague Levine, then the Met’s music director, and the Swiss conductor Peter Maag considered her to be “cavalier”. After three years she was not sorry to return to Europe with the role of “liaison officer and talent-scout” for the Americans.

Joan Ingpen was a formidable character, with a razor-sharp memory, a remarkable eye for detail and – at times – an icy smile. To be in her presence was an unforgettable and occasionally intimidating experience. She was blessed with what one former colleague called a “hard-edged diamond brain”. She could also be a powerful negotiator when discussing casting or negociating a singer’s fee. Her affection for opera singers was plain for all to see, and she would accept only the very best from them. “I really love them,” she once said. “But, of course, they tend to be more highly strung than actors because everything depends on those two little vocal cords and their life is a perpetual worry.”

Joan Mary Eileen Ingpen was born on January 3 1916 in London of Irish stock. Her father was said to have been sent on a mission to Russia just before the Bolshevik revolution, and was never seen again. Although she was a competent pianist, young Joan learnt to type and began her working life in the office of a marine insurance broker. Much of her social life in London was taken up with concerts. It was at one of these that she met Walter Legge from EMI, who persuaded her to join him working at Ensa. After the war the two of them co-founded the Philharmonia, with Joan Ingpen taking a 40 per cent share in the business. However, as the orchestra’s reputation grew, Legge was anxious to steal the limelight, and they fell out bitterly, in part over Legge’s paranoia that Ingpen might be passing on information about his wife, Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, and the orchestra to Ingpen’s first husband, the Austrian agent Alfred Dietz. “He was a very strange man,” Joan Ingpen recalled of Legge. “Wonderfully enthusiastic to work with, but he had to be emperor.” In 1950 Legge bought out her share in the orchestra and they went their separate ways. Fortunately, Ingpen had established her agency in 1946, and now gave it all her energy.

Undoubtedly Ingpen could be as much a prima donna as any opera singer. On one occasion Pavarotti is said to have kept her waiting in his living room while he cooked pasta and took phone calls; she is said to have retaliated by keeping him off the stage at the Met for a year. On another she publicly denounced as “canary fanciers” that vociferous section of the Met’s audience which insists on seeing ageing singers return beyond their prime. In The King and I, Herbert Breslin and Anne Midgette’s unauthorised tale of Pavarotti’s career, Joan Ingpen is described, not untruthfully, as “a tough lady with one of those buttery yet impregnable English accents, supported on the foundations of a steely alto voice” (NOTE; I was curious as to who actually wrote these delightful descriptions, and Miss Midgette kindly responded that she indeed was the author as I had suspected).

Today Ingpen & Williams remains a leading player in classical music management, with a roster of artists that includes Pierre Boulez, Alfred Brendel and a host of well-known singers.In retirement Joan Ingpen lived quietly in an apartment in Brighton, where she kept a Hockney design for a triple bill at the Met – Parade, Les Mamelles de Tirésias and L’Enfant et les Sortileges – adorned with the letters JOAN. She had wonderful teeth that sparkled like diamonds when they caught the light.

Joan Ingpen, after two divorces, spent her later years with the actor Sebastian Shaw, who died in 1994. She had no children

Those 27 seconds represent the vindication of the words of Miss Callas, and a repudiation of the early work of Maestro Bonynge and Miss Sutherland.

Miss Callas is the most significant and influential post war artist in opera for a reason. She revived the masterpieces and revealed to audiences the great dramatic power each opera deservedly owned. In doing so, Miss Callas removed the acceptability of birdlike singing which had become rampant and considerably ruined the art form as it was meant to be. Enter Miss Sutherland in 1959 with brilliant high notes and fioriture to spare, and opera was once again brought to being a sport. Scarcely an art form, for when people came to the opera with the advent of Miss Sutherland, they came to be thrilled by the prospect of high notes and the possibility of an artist missing one….. rather than to be taken to another plane with the drama itself. It became a sort of warfare between the two ideologies. Dramatic interpretation versus vocal acrobatics.

Further evidence of the simplicity of listeners is that phenomenal artists such as Miss Leyla Gencer who directly followed Miss Callas and could have continued her work were simply ignored by the media. While it is true Miss Callas used high notes in virtually every early performance, this can be considered more of an instrument to gain attention to her work. Conversely however, she was raked over the coals for her ‘ugly’ (translation; not birdlike) voice during the same period. The media and subsequently opera goers who were giddy with the fioriture of Miss Sutherland found primacy of place for Miss Sills, and Miss Caballe (who did not own high notes, but had a unique use of pianissimo which was a histrionic of its own associated solely with this artist). Even as all of this was going on in the mid sixties, there were artists who vigorously attempted to follow the dramatic route by essaying hefty roles in the Callas manner. Miss Elena Souliotis and Miss Sylvia Sass for example gained a welcomed notoriety for a time, before the extremity of the task wore the young vocal instruments down to insignificance.

Miss Souliotis sings Abigaille’s cabaletta ‘Salgo gia del trono aurato’ correctly.  

Consider the strange career of  the Bulgarian soprano Miss Ghena Dimitrova, an artist with a vocal instrument of extraordinary volume, yet did not own any modest facility to imbue drama by virtue of colouring and shading. Miss Dimitrova had begun to make a name for herself singing the early dramatic works of Miss Callas in the same venues with the same raw intensity. More than any other was as Abigaille in Nabucco, at the Verona Arena where the performances are clearly identified with the early Callas period, as was the role of Abigaille (although Miss Callas only essayed the role once at the San Carlo in Naples). The reality that has become clearer today, is that Miss Dimitrova’s use of volume was yet another histrionic; unique in the same way as pianissimo was to Miss Caballe. The hidden story here though was that now, a histrionic (the use of extreme volume) was being applied to the heavier repertoire for the first time. Combine this with Miss Dimitrova’s ability to challengingly scoop at a high C , and guess who would be calling… ? As would be natural to take advantage of the moment, the Teatro alla Scala  determined to mount Nabucco given an Abigaille of Miss Dimitrova’s fame now existed. Maestro Muti was going to utilise the work as his own inaugural into the history of the theatre. However as the story goes, the Maestro paced the work in such a way and had the soprano revise her interpretation to such a degree, the artist could not accomplish the optional final C at the end of the cabaletta which follows ‘Ben io t’invenni’, the note that had made her reputation (a note by the way that did not come easily to the artist, but she knew what audiences bayed for). At the precise second directly after this occurs the eyes of the bass who is singing the high priest widen in shock, Miss Dimitrova looks at him breifly mouth agape, then the camera pans to Maestro Muti who is crashing the final chords of the scene and is obviously livid at the missed note. Needless to say, even the audience (loggione included) at the Teatro alla Scala was so stunned, no one booed but only mild applause could be mustered. The entire video of this opera can be found uploaded on YouTube in sections: however this single section was removed as it evidently so infuriated the uploader. The number of recordings where this note of Miss Dimitrova’s was missed and won has taken on a life of its own on YouTube, amusingly underlining the core of this article.

Miss Dimitrova (not in good voice) delivers the volume but not the note at Orange.

The long term and serious concern of the diminution of opera through the incautious use of histrionics does not rest solely within the dominion of the soprano range. The tenor Mr. Juan Diego Florez has made a similar career trajectory as Miss Sutherland, albeit without even a minor courteous nod to drama. Some lesser pundits would consider this artist as the next incarnation of Mr. Pavarotti. This parallel is as silly as suggesting Miss Callas and Miss Sutherland were of the same ilk. Mr. Pavarotti like Miss Callas imbued his work with the intention to compel the listener to feel the drama deeply; the high notes were there for dramatic purpose only. Perhaps Mr. Pavarotti’s associations with Miss Sutherland had a beneficial effect on the subsequent viewpoints regarding Miss Sutherland’s work, however this same association highlighted Mr. Pavarotti’s high notes to the peril of his intense dramatic work. Mr. Florez on the other hand is a confection clearly suited for those audiences who demand the fluff of high notes alone.

Mr. Florez performs 9 high C’s in thin voice.

Perhaps the best way to close this article is to offer the readers the final moments of Anna Bolena as portrayed by Miss Callas. Some would say taking a high note for the finale is the ultimate show of defiance. COMMANDOpera disagrees without reserve; if the entire scene is shaded correctly the high note could only detract from the tragedy at the final closing seconds. Miss Callas understood Anna Bolena as a woman and Queen known to all and judged by history. There could be no mistakes as she guided the heroine inexorably towards her death through beheading. Imagine the fear of anyone who knows they are about to die within minutes, yet on the other hand, recognises it is precisely the dignity one brings to the moment is all that will be recalled down the corridor of history. The gravitas in the unembellished colouring of this scene draws a portrait so completely harrowing it remains unmatched in the annals of opera to this day.

Cistercian Chant: Late Middle Ages Clairveaux Abbey.

Ambrosian Chant: The church of Mediolanum (Milan).

Byzantine Chant: Medieval chant of the Divine Liturgy.

Gothic Chant: The early Organum period, Notre Dame.

Mozarabic Chant: Moorish North African.

Gregorian Chant: Medieval period France.

I determined to show Miss Callas in concert performance singing the final aria of Bellini’s Il Pirata. Its true the vocals are slightly out of synchronisation with the film, but the value one receives just watching Miss Callas  deliver such a stunningly dramatic performance in concert far outweighs this minor irritant. Miss Callas provides a singular lesson to any vocal artist who owns confidence in regards to their musicality, to appreciate what is required to take and develop a character to another level altogether.

Part 1

Part 2

Mr. Pavarotti sings ‘Di quella pira’ from Il Trovatore.

Miss Sutherland sings ‘Giudici ad Anna’ from Anna Bolena. (BRILLIANT)

The Roman Catholic church (through ‘St Paul’) in its continuing campaign to suborn the female sex, determined that women were expressly forbidden to sing in church in the words; “mulier taceat in ecclesia”. An interdiction that lasted everywhere until the 17th century, and in some places much later. It was made clear that women who merely sang in public would give offense and be a scandal to piety. Given the central role of the church, such a pronouncement simply became unwritten law, which no average individual would dare to flaunt. To be sure, there were indeed female singers in opera who acheived a level of fame from time to time when the church did not outright ban them, but only alongside a licentuous notoriety which was the price these women carried as performers. But what was to be done for the church to acheive those sonorously delightful higher registers? Boys were obviously out of the question (yes there was a day in the Catholic church) because they were mishcievous… and besides, by the time they had learnt their job their voices were usually ready to crack.

Farinelli in real life

Excerpt from the biographical film Farinelli Il Castrato

Enter the castrati stage right.

The initial worry, though not the least morally, was figuring out what was the penultimate moment to perform the operation in which the best vocal results could be attained. As it happened if the operation occurred before puberty there was little risk of the subsequent grown male achieving an erect status, whereas post puberty was clearly a different tale (although not relavant to this post, the Catholic church also made it illegal for a castrato to marry as they could no longer pro create). What I find most humorous about the whole situation created by the Catholic church, is that the finest castrato voices didn’t bother with the church as they went on to great acclaim in the opera. It was the castrati of lesser (the majority) voices that ended up in the church choirs. Naturally the Catholic church did not openly condone castration, and as a matter of fact anyone known to be connected with this operation was punished with excommunication. The filthy reality however, was that every church utilised castrati including the finest especially reserved for the Pope’s private chapel. There were known to be over 200 practising castrati in the churches of Rome alone during the 1780′s. Why you may ask? Because without the castrati singing in their choirs (who were the main attraction), attendance would fall through the floor… along with the monies that went into the church coffers.

In their period, the castrati were nothing short of superstars. Castrati brought to the music agility, stunning fioriture at breath taking speed, the most difficult embellishments..all at full voice. Perhaps modern audiences were able to witness this magic through the extraordinary voice of Miss Sills as seen here.The finest castrato voice without reserve is said to be that of Carlo Broschi popularly known as Farinelli, or so it seems that is what comes down to us today. The reality is, there were several great castrato singers who had huge fan bases and were all the toast of Europe at one time or another. Grossi popularly known as Siface, Carestini popularly known as Cusanino, Bernardi popularly known as Senesino, Porporino, Nicolo popularly knownas Nicolino, Annibal, Manzuoli, Monticelli, Bernacchi, and Balatri. These are off the top of my head. Occasionally an audience would witness a spectacular event where two great castrati would appear on the same stage. There is the notorius contest in 1727 where both Farinelli and Bernacchi appeared in Orlandini’s La Fedelta Coronata in Bologna (Bernacchi held the hometown advantage). Farinelli thinking to astonish by his agility, put all of his most elaborate cadenza; but Bernacchi whose aria followed, precisely matched all of the younger Farinelli’s graces, executing them with polish and ease, and then added some extra fioriture of his own. Bitchy little bit of business there…the story is told here.

Carestini

Senesino

All composers, (Handel in particular) sought the use of the castrati naturally within their works. Parts were specifically written for them; Ariodante, Rinaldo, Arsace, Idaspe, Orfeo, etc. Modern audiences now hear these roles generally performed via the use of a mezzo soprano voice which handles the notes adequately without much need for transposition. That is not to say a mezzo soprano voice and castrato voice are consonant. This could not be further from reality. What is understood about the castrato voice is that it clearly owned masculine qualities with the natural placement at a higher register in full voice with no falsetto. I believe a muscular counter tenor is better placed to interpret these roles, however the counter tenor voice has clearly not established itself as fashionable to modern tastes. There also exists a natural male voice known as the male soprano which is capable of generally singing 1/6 th high then that of a counter tenor. The male soprano voice is capable of rising to a full bodied C without falestto.

Here is the only example of an actual castrati voice. Mr. Moreschi however is long past his prime, nor owned a particularly pleasant voice. The style is clearly correct to the period of the late Victorian era.

Mr Moreschi the last castrato, fittingly sings “Let us pray for the Pontiff”

Here is a current example of the male soprano voice.

Mr Maniaci interprets Handel

This post is dedicated to the memory of my first artistic mentor, Mr. Art Topshee.

UPDATE:

Something really excellent, yet bittersweet occured in the life of Crew Mantle this morning. To really appreciate its meaning, I will publish extracts from an extremely private correspondance I had with the wife of Mr. Art Topshee before COMMANDOpera went live…..

Many years back I was a student at XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX High School. Your husband taught Theatre Arts in a place that was not kind to anyone who was artistically inclined. I was such a young man. His classroom was a refuge, and he a spectacular mentor who influenced many to approach life more fully and openly. The wisdom he imparted to us in his unique way, I believe, found a resonance in otherwise closed young minds.
 
My own subsequent journey has been quite spectacular, and could never have occurred had it not been for the confidence he instilled. Over the years I have thought often of him, and and hoped one day to contact him. He had this fantasy if you will, borne I believe from some play by Arthur Miller, where students who have grown, return to visit to chat of the old days. Well on the occasion when I would be in XXXXXXX, XXXX was no longer, and the internet with its accessibility did not then exist; I would never find him again.
 
Yesterday, unaccountably, while on Google for some reason I encountered his mothers obituary. You cannot imagine my mortification as I read it. I searched and searched for something to show me this man existed in his own right somewhere. There was nothing.
 
I have been retired for a few years beginning at the ridiculous age of 48. Over the years I have had a significant connection with the world of opera, as a private matter. In a few days I will be launching my blog which is much anticipated around the globe. The site is www.commandopera.com . There you will find among the posts one that is written on the subject of the castrati. I ask that you particularly view the clip on Farinelli, as the actor in the piece looks much like me when I knew your husband. I have dedicated this post to the memory of your husband.
 
The day will arrive when the name Art Topshee is googled, he will be found. You have my word.

The response from Mrs. Art Topshee;

How I was touched by your email this morning. And how odd the quirks of this world are that you would find his Mum’s obituary on Google just at the time you were remembering him and starting your blog.(Impressive so far, just the music and the pictures alone!) Art died 9 years ago on October 4th and all of the grief and sadness came crashing through as I read your email. He would have been so delighted to have heard from you and know what the time in his classroom had meant to you.Indeed,  I still have the Voice Mail from another student who called a few days after he died. He cared so deeply about the young people in his classroom and valued everything they were, building relationships that mattered with them and validating them for who they were and what they would become. He hated the administration side of it all and the rules and regulations, knowing so well that there was much more that went on in a classroom that made a difference besides the  provincial curriculum and what was in the textbooks. He did such an amazing job of opening things up for people and was always clear in his assessments if something was a ‘piece of shit’! He loved Opera along with many other forms of music and even worked on some very very early Opera Lyra productions though the singers complained about the Gitanes that he smoked.

Your email has opened a whole stream of conscious memory for me this morning. He would have loved this crisp cold day and would have headed for a walk in the XXXXXXX and stopped to pick up great bread on his way home to a wee dram of Laphroig and perhaps a viewing of the Magnificient Seven! He was badly injured in a cross country skiing accident in 1989 and ended up with an even more distinctive walk than he already had! He showed such grace and strength and dignity in his dying and gave us all the gift of his love which we will always hold and treasure and that keeps us safe. We ended his obituary with “So long, you ancient pelican” a line from the film The High and the Mighty with John Wayne. It said so much on so many levels…he never wanted any fuss or attention but he would have been so deeply moved by what you have written and what you are doing. The sadness comes from him not being able to read what you have said: the joy comes from what you have made of the gifts you were given and the role he played in giving you the surge of self to take those gifts where you have.

Sono rivendicato.

When you have an audience, a public that looks to you the performer, there are expectations which simply cannot be disregarded. Fortunately, artists involved in opera and regardless of their status, are not subjected to the personal scrutiny reserved for those who work in the cinema. Thus, a greater and tighter degree of control can be held concerning  an artists image. Appreciating that you work in a ‘higher’ art form, your career trajectory is far better maintained and advanced when the tools utilized in your promotion reflect this fact. Publicity stills in particular when done properly can be your finest armament. When such critical photography is not used with the most careful eye to suitability of image, disaster can result.

There is a very definitive separation in this art form for what is acceptable in publicity photography which is decisively cut across the line of gender.

Imagery directed towards the female gender must incorporate glamour at every turn. This is an unalterable fact given the art form of opera is held in a uniquely specific regard within the minds of the audience. Regardless of the years which pass, opera will never lose it’s cache as the most elegant entertainment the public has the opportunity to enjoy (note; if you aspire to go out and be seen without fixing your face correctly at all times, that’s your choice and why large sunglasses were invented). Thus when you are in working mode, you are obliged to deliver to the public a visual which evokes for them a glance into a better plane. Incorporated as part of the imagery includes not only make up but also wardrobe and correct accessorising accorded to each photo. Find a top tier style with which you are comfortable and stick with it, utilising endless variations on a specific theme. For example, a wise female artist will find a trademark accessory such as hoop earrings, or chunky jewellery, and stay with it. Create a signature look.  Here is an example of a female artist who sets the standard.

Miss Brueggergossman.

Imagery directed towards the male gender first and foremost must exemplify gravitas. As the centuries move forward, it seems what the public desires visually of male artists never changes. I must point out immediately, men who work in this profession must never fall prey to the blurring of lines regarding their work. As an individual who has resolved to make a career in music, you are behooved to note this fact as your top priority and act accordingly. You do not work in the fashion industry as models, nor are you expected to look like a matinee idol. If per chance you happen to own formidable chiseled features, all the better for you.  COMMANDOpera is crystal clear, your use of fashion must be limited in the extreme. This is the domain of female artists. Utilise well tailored garments at every turn for publicity, and keep the jewellery exponent to a minimum. If you wish to be taken seriously, you must attire yourself correctly to reflect yourself as a serious artist. Here is an example of a male artist who understands what to do.

Mr. Fabiano.

COMMANDOpera cannot make determinations for artists who wish to be seen for who they are, unrestrained… All must know however, reputations in opera are built on airs of mystery created by the great operatic drama’s, which are subliminally levelled onto the artists themselves. The public does not wish to know you more then this regardless of the adulation you receive from your side of the floodlights. A cool discrete manner is the currency for your public persona and this simply will never change. Who you are in your private life is your domain on which COMMANDOpera would offer no judgement or interest.

If there was ever a concern consonant to all opera venues regardless of stature, it would have to be the issue of dwindling attendance. And what successful strategies to employ to recruit a new and younger generation of opera going public. Perhaps the most ridiculous and venal of these explorations would have to be the mounting of productions which center the action around blood, gore, excrement, and other bodily fluids. Such thinking is mirrored from the minds of individuals so jaded, they have left the realm of normal thought. It is remarkable that theatres sport such a low opinion of the very audience they are attempting to attract.

Not so the Vancouver Opera. While this company is over 50 years old (not significant in operatic terms) it operates with a free thinking elan thanks in large part to the combination of younger and older minds who run the theatre. There is no question to COMMANDOpera who has had a great deal of contact with the theater, the reality that every one’s voice is heard, and listened to. The commonly known West coast relaxed manner is well and alive. Ling Chan of the Vancouver Opera explained to me what was rather an obviously brilliant yet simple marketing strategy. Why not have a blogger’s table of local bloggers operate live from the theatre before and during intermission? What would the composition be of the table? The criteria was to have bloggers who did not blog on opera, but enjoyed a history of blogging in the region with a younger audience. I can only marvel at the sheer intelligence of the concept. The theatre reaches a guarenteed audience through the bloggers, who have established reputations in their own worlds. Their public would be generally hip, younger, and very clued in.

Here is the entire blog post from Miss604 from last season’s opening of Carmen at the theatre. All the photo’s (other than the Carmen)  and text which appear are courtesy of Miss604.

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This evening I will be joined by other wonderful bloggers to experience Carmen as guests of the Vancouver Opera. We’ll be setup in the lobby to take photos, jot down thoughts, notes, and any interesting tidbits we have to share. Between acts, we’ll have updates and early reviews as well. If you are attending the opera tonight, please feel free to stop by and say hello, and if you’re at home, check back here around 6:30pm for some pre-opera blogging.

Update:I arrived at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre and joined up with the other bloggers, Ami, Tanya, and Kimli. Moments later Terry Harper, the Director of Production was kind enough to sweep us away for a private tour backstage.

It was great to see the sets going up, meet some of the people who make the production happen, and see how everyone gets prepared for the big evening.

I have to say that the Vancouver Opera has been great so far, giving us tickets, as well as putting up a sign near our table stating each of our names and full URLs — the first time of all my 30-some liveblogs that a host has done so (from tech events to hockey games).

At some point I know I’m going to feel like a caged animal (and the “please do not feed the bloggers” note at the bottom of our sign doesn’t help — but it’s cute) however everyone passing by is in great spirits and are asking us some wonderful questions.

The General Director of the opera, James W. Wright, just walked past and shook each of our hands, “now what are you people doing here?” he said in jest as he took time to “speak with his bloggers .” They just keep making us feel more and more special, this is pretty great.

Update: We are now heading in for Act I, we’ll be back soon (my photos are also going up on Flickr).

Update: We’re in the middle of a 20 minute intermission. I’m currently battling a cold and although I spent most of the first act wondering if my nose was whistling or trying to control my laboured breathing I still enjoyed the show. Being that I know French it’s actually a lot easier to follow than Eugine Onegin(which was in Russian) so I didn’t have to look up as often to follow the sur-titles. The set looks fabulous, from this side of the stage, the story is captivating thus far, and boy that Carmen sure is one troublemaker (in her beautiful red corset).

VO Carmen – Rinat Shaham as Carmen – Photo by Tim Matheson

I’m more so fascinated by the folks in the lobby who stop the speak with us while we’re blogging. Tanya is getting asked about her HP Netbook (since it’s about half the size of my MacBook) and we’re fielding questions from “what is a blog”, “who will read that,” to “is this going on Facebook?”, and “do you get to see the show”? Everyone is very friendly and Ling (whom I met with to first discuss a blogger night at the opera) just brought us over some food after she read on Kimli’s site that she had missed dinner. Things sure are happening fast and in real-time.

We have three more acts to go, so I’ll check back in with more thoughts on Carmen in just a few minutes…

Update: I think I’m going to have to get more in-depth about the actual opera when I get home this evening as I only have about 10 more minutes to give an update. The first act featured an introduction to Carmen and her devilishly seductive ways, literally having a man (Don Jose) take the fall for her. In the second act he returns and must make a choice between his country and his lust erm… lovefor Carmen, a decision that pretty much ends up being made for him. However, we were also introduced to quite the self-assured toreador, Escamillo and while I am avoiding the synopsis I’m certain he will make a return. Again, very speedy commentary as the 5 minute warning to return to our seats it about to sound. Apologies to the couple at the end of our row as we all file out at every break. And now for Act III…

Update:It’s all over and we’re heading our seperate ways. I’ll have more coverage later but would sincerely like to thank the Vancouver Opera for being amazing hosts this evening (especially Selina and Ling), and I continue to be amazed by their fine productions and unlimited talents, both on and off the stage.

Update: “Who knows why we fall in love,” said a woman sitting behind me at the theatre. The word love was tossed around a lot tonight but I think it means many things… lust, perseverance, passion, and not just for a companion — freedom was also chanted, bellowed, and mourned.

While women in gowns take the arms of gentlemen in tuxedos as they glide through the lobby of the Queen Elizabeth theatre everyone is in good spirits. They pass to say hello to a crew sitting at a table with their heads tilted downward while feverishly typing away, documenting their experiences, then take their seats to discuss Carmen and her motives. “She likes him because she can control him,” said another woman about Don Jose, “but that’s probably also why she loses interest,” mentions another.

The opera is a welcoming atmosphere, for those who may think otherwise, even for someone like me who admits they recognized most of the rhythms from old Bugs Bunny cartoons (or more recently that episode of Family Guy where Brian hears Pearl sing Habanera… but I digress).

Rinat Shaham’s delivery is captivating and you end up routing for the troubled yet headstrong vixen, while the orchestra, chorus, and cast were each mesmerizing. To say Carmen is a classic is a severe understatement; it’s humorous, playful, melodramatic, and tragic, yet splashed with so much colour even among the drab nomadic settings of a gypsy camp.

You can catch Carmen January 29th and 31st as well as February 3rd and 5th and tickets start at $23 (which is pretty much what you would pay for a movie ticket and a popcorn combo). It’s an opportunity I encourage every Vancouverite to experience — dress up, head out on the town, and get lost in the soothing yet tempestuous melodies of the opera.

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It just does not get better than that.

The Vancouver Opera becomes a place that is ‘in’ with a local audience that would never have offered a second glance. Why? Because the Vancouver Opera used the tools which most of society are familiar with as though a right hand. By virtue of utilising bloggers on glamorous opening nights, they make the opera accessible directly to that new, highly desirable demographic, but most importantly; comfortable. And not a drop of blood or other bodily fluid needed to be spilled in order to do so. The lesson is clear. Be felixble in your marketing strategy, utilize what is right in front of you, and most importantly; recognise the relevance of the new media. There is little doubt to COMMANDOpera, other theatres will follow the example set here by the Vancouver Opera. It is really only a question of time.

The Saturday after next, you will not find Crew Mantle in his traditional tuxedo, making his way to a loge, or one of the better seats. I will be attired from Bagliani in a muscularly tailored black suit perfect for a working evening, crisp white shirt from Harry and Sons located on the Via Mazzini in Verona, and hand made black lizard western boots from Cowtown. At the end of the day it is a prima and standards must still be respected.

Alright.

This post marks the first installment in a series COMMANDOpera will be posting on Miss Netrebko’s assumption of the title role of Donizetti’s masterpiece Anna Bolena. Perhaps there is no other opera production in recent years which reflects such enormous expectations within all circles of opera. I called publicly on February 2008 here for just this precise casting (although I advised first The Royal Opera House, then Teatro alla Scala, The Met had the wisdom to put it together first). This production will overshadow any other offerings at any house that season. The unspoken reason it will be the most watched for and talked about? Miss Netrebko is without question regarded as the reigning soprano of today. Say what you will about the supremacy of both Miss Damrau and Miss Dessay, Miss Netrebko is de facto the most influential artist in opera today. While I certainly do not agree with those who ascribe to her the moniker the ‘new Callas’, Miss Netrebko certainly moulds a portrait of a character in the old tradition. This I believe (aside from her glamorous beauty) is what makes her central to the minds of the opera going public. Anna Bolena however is a risk on a completely different level for Miss Netrebko as an artist. She is one of the few artists who is at a stage where people will care enough to be watching her mature work in terms of legacy. AND the opera going public has every note of Anna Bolena at their disposal, in particular the interpretation of Miss Callas to whom Miss Netrebko is so often compared. IF Miss Netrebko does NOT do well in this role opening night at the Metropolitan for the 2011-2012 season (which I will assuredly be in attendance live blogging with a well heeled coterie), it will be the FIRST particular noted down the corridor of operatic history for this artist.

The first subsequent post will proceed with an in depth comparative regarding the actual history of Anne Bolyen and the salient points the composer has aligned the work with to give the reader a feel of the woman herself. Next will concern the merits of various approaches at critical points by other established artists before Miss Netrebko. Finally, what Miss Netrebko must do with her vocal instrument, and intellectual approach to the work. This final post will deal rather technically regarding vocal style and perhaps will not be of great interest to the average reader.

To start things off, this video is critical to further understand future writings on this subject.

The Roman Catholic church (through ’St Paul’) in its continuing campaign to suborn the female sex, determined that women were expressly forbidden to sing in church in the words; “mulier taceat in ecclesia”. An interdiction that lasted everywhere until the 17th century, and in some places much later. It was made clear that women who merely sang in public would give offense and be a scandal to piety. Given the central role of the church, such a pronouncement simply became unwritten law, which no average individual would dare to flaunt. To be sure, there were indeed female singers in opera who acheived a level of fame from time to time when the church did not outright ban them, but only alongside a licentuous notoriety which was the price these women carried as performers. But what was to be done for the church to acheive those sonorously delightful higher registers? Boys were obviously out of the question (yes there was a day in the Catholic church) because they were mishcievous… and besides, by the time they had learnt their job their voices were usually ready to crack.

Farinelli in real life

Excerpt from the biographical film Farinelli Il Castrato

Enter the castrati stage right.

The initial worry, though not the least morally, was figuring out what was the penultimate moment to perform the operation in which the best vocal results could be attained. As it happened if the operation occurred before puberty there was little risk of the subsequent grown male achieving an erect status, whereas post puberty was clearly a different tale (although not relavant to this post, the Catholic church also made it illegal for a castrato to marry as they could no longer pro create). What one finds most humorous about the whole situation created by the Catholic church, is that the finest castrato voices didn’t bother with the church as they went on to great acclaim in the opera. It was the castrati of lesser (the majority) voices that ended up in the church choirs. Naturally the Catholic church did not openly condone castration, and as a matter of fact anyone known to be connected with this operation was punished with excommunication. The filthy reality however, was that every church utilised castrati including the finest especially reserved for the Pope’s private chapel. There were known to be over 200 practising castrati in the churches of Rome alone during the 1780′s. Why you may ask? Because without the castrati singing in their choirs (who were the main attraction), attendance would fall through the floor… along with the monies that went into the church coffers.

In their period, the castrati were nothing short of superstars. Castrati brought to the music agility, stunning fioriture at breath taking speed, the most difficult embellishments..all at full voice. Perhaps modern audiences were able to witness this magic through the extraordinary voice of Miss Sills as seen here. The finest castrato voice without reserve is said to be that of Carlo Broschi popularly known as Farinelli, or so it seems that is what comes down to us today. The reality is, there were several great castrato singers who had huge fan bases and were all the toast of Europe at one time or another. Grossi popularly known as Siface, Carestini popularly known as Cusanino, Bernardi popularly known as Senesino, Porporino, Nicolo popularly known as Nicolino, Annibal, Manzuoli, Monticelli, Bernacchi, and Balatri. These are off the top of my head. Occasionally an audience would witness a spectacular event where two great castrati would appear on the same stage. There is the notorius contest in 1727 where both Farinelli and Bernacchi appeared in Orlandini’s La Fedelta Coronata in Bologna (Bernacchi held the hometown advantage). Farinelli thinking to astonish by his agility, put all of his most elaborate cadenza; but Bernacchi whose aria followed, precisely matched all of the younger Farinelli’s graces, executing them with polish and ease, and then added some extra fioriture of his own. Bitchy little bit of business there…the story is told here.

Carestini

Senesino

All composers, (Handel in particular) sought the use of the castrati naturally within their works. Parts were specifically written for them; Ariodante, Rinaldo, Arsace, Idaspe, Orfeo, etc. Modern audiences now hear these roles generally performed via the use of a mezzo soprano voice which handles the notes adequately without much need for transposition. That is not to say a mezzo soprano voice and castrato voice are consonant. This could not be further from reality. What is understood about the castrato voice is that it clearly owned masculine qualities with the natural placement at a higher register in full voice with no falsetto. I believe a muscular counter tenor is better placed to interpret these roles, however the counter tenor voice has clearly not established itself as fashionable to modern tastes. There also exists a natural male voice known as the male soprano which is capable of generally singing 1/6 th high then that of a counter tenor. The male soprano voice is capable of rising to a full bodied C without falestto.

Here is the only example of an actual castrati voice. Mr. Moreschi however is long past his prime, nor owned a particularly pleasant voice. The style is clearly correct to the period of the late Victorian era.

Mr Moreschi the last castrato, fittingly sings “Let us pray for the Pontiff”

Here is a current example of the male soprano voice.

Mr Maniaci interprets Handel

This post is dedicated to the memory of my first artistic mentor, Mr. Art Topshee.

Miss Sass and Mr. Cappuccilli in Ill Tabarro by Puccini

The unalterable changes in the daily life of humanity beginning with Mr. Edison’s contributions began to affect the art form of opera in a decidedly deleterious fashion. The most serious of which has to be the moving picture. Otherwise known as silent films. Here was a new and extraordinary entertainment for the masses creating a siesemic shift in taste that had not occurred since two hundred years earlier in the form of opera. The rebellion against the upper classes holding sway in the life of the every day man was at its epoch…. and more importantly; everyone knew it. Why go to a place where the snobbery of class system still existed, when the masses could go to the movie theater where all were equal? Not to mention, it simply fit in well with where society at large had arrived. Even the great soprano Geraldine Farrar enjoyed a second career as a star in the movies going head to head with Theda Bara as Carmen. Who could be bothered listening to portly cumbersome singers far from the stage, when they could be watching glamorous, fashionably sultry stars just feet away on a silver screen? No one cared anymore. Opera was no longer the game of the masses, the public had simply turned off.

Nonetheless, there were these gigantic opera houses which still operated between the two great wars. New composition however waned to its lowest manufacture for the first time in 300 years of steady production. The houses did what they could by mounting the old warhorses as each company saw fit. It was a serious time of disarray. The art of correctly singing these great works virtually disappeared from the stages altogether. The great roles simply became showpieces where singers merely sang the notes with bird like effect.  Here is an example.

Miss Pons singing Lucia Di Lammermoor by Donizetti

By the end of the second world war nothing was clear anymore other than the fact that a new order of modernist society was rising from the ashes. It is my opinion that opera likely would have slid further down the tunnel of irrelevancy had it not been for the advent of a career and artistry of a single woman. If opera was to be of any purpose to the modern mainstream it had to supply something unique to the world. What niche market could that be? Opera itself is historic, so who better to retell the entertaining stories of history than the established art form of opera? There is no question that while most opera plot lines generally bear only a modest resemblance to actual events, these plots still speak of the historic moments. The delivery of the product however had to be credible. Enter Maria Callas. Miss Callas was the fuel in every conceivable aspect required to singlehandedly relaunch opera to the masses. A voice from the greatest age of Bel Canto, an actress who owned a range equally to that of the finest straight theater exponents, a matchless beauty, and a life lived in headlines. That Miss Callas is recognised as having changed the face of opera cannot be challenged. Miss Callas made opera once again interesting, credible, exciting, and the place to be; certainly for singers who followed the post Callas era. While confections with a certain media savvy can arrive to a certain level, only the products of excellent schooling and refined technique can sustain the effort required to secure positioning within the very top ranks.  

Miss Callas In Mexico City 1950

Miss Callas in Paris 1964

Interestingly new composers are advancing once again within the art form, Adams, and Glass are the most prolific and watched for. Theaters today are still in a conundrum as to how to re attract audiences. A good many of the European houses seem to feel blood and gore and excrement is the in thing… or so their hired gun set designers seem to feel. Bring porn to the opera (ummm they forgot that watching porn is the pervue of the darkened internet lit room at home at least partially naked)…. update the masterpieces to a time where the sensibilities are incongruent, who cares. It’s a thoughtless approach which does no great service to the art form or the houses themselves who offer these productions. Opera has certainly come some distance since Mr Zefferelli splashed blood on the night gown of Miss Sutherland in 1959 to actually show the bloodletting, as opposed to the modest red sash which traditionally alluded to the murder in Lucia. Recently The Royal Opera Covent Garden mounted a new opera called The Minotaur by Birtwistle which featured a level of gore. But it worked. Why? Because it was correct to the fundamental storyline.

The Minotaur by Birtwistle

Opera plots during this period dealt increasingly with actual historic scenarios that were closer to the actual period for numerous story lines. Why? Opera was no longer under the influence of the nobility in the manner of the previous two centuries, many of whom were related in some form to history itself. It simply was out of the question for what the nobility regarded as their private dominion to be interpreted at a composers/librettists whim. Extravagant ornamentation was increasingly seen as old fashioned by composers as it no longer fit with these new historical drama’s (say good bye to the castrati). The evolving style was to be sung in a manner which emphasised the drama itself. Each note was written for the very purpose of drama creating an impossible atmosphere where a singer might embellish. Still, the audience and singers themselves refused to give up ornamentation in its entirety (which is still the case today), so allowances were made with the repetition of an aria embellished here and there in the old style. Here are a few examples.

Miss Sutherland sings the finale of La Sonnambula of Bellini

Mr Pavarotti interprets a section from La Fillé du Regimant by Donizetti

The composers of this period represent a who’s who regardless of what musical affiliation; Bellini, Donizetti, Verdi, Wagner, Tchaikovsky, Puccini, Strauss, Massenet. The masterpieces they created endure as the staple of houses to this day. In their period the popularity of their works was such, operas from the earlier Baroque period all but disappeared from every single stage around the globe. Not only were the composers adulated by the masses, but singers maintained an equally stratospheric following. The names Malibran, Garcia, Pasta, Melba, Tamburini, Patti amongst the most celebrated. The star system is in fine working order. An example of Grand Opera follows.

Miss Cossotto as Amneris in Aida by Verdi

Opera houses spring up everywhere (in America, every town had its opera house which operated as do alls for whatever functions the townsfolk could find beyond the rare opera production). The great houses around the globe are completed; the Teatro Colon in Beunos Aires, The Metropolitan in New York, The Palais Garnier in Paris, The Liceu in Barcelona, Weiner Staatsoper in Vienna, to name some. Within the houses, audiences have become somewhat more restrained generally, as opera has morphed into a special event night for the upper classes. Perhaps this is where opera acquired its ‘elitist’ tag. Given that these houses were often built by a consortium of well heeled families, it naturally follows the best seats were reserved for them. Beyond this, the decorum and manners of this class during the period which was such a part of day to day life simply had to remain central. Loges were created specifically for these wealthy families so they would not be found in the impossible position of consorting with the working class. The class system was in high gear during the age of Victoria. While the middle genteel class could be suitably placed within the main ground floor auditorium, the upper tiers were the domain of the less fortunate classes. In the European houses, particularly in Italy where opera ruled all, the inhabitants of the upper tiers were the most vociferous of audience members. In Italy they became known as the Loggionisti….. who exist to this day, most notably at the august theater of Teatro alla Scala. Here is a recent example.

Mr Alagna removes from Verdi’s Aida