Blanchard - Fire Shut Up in My Bones (New York, 2021)

Terence Blanchard - Fire Shut Up in My Bones

The Metropolitan Opera, New York - 2021

Yannick Nézet-Séguin, James Robinson, Camille A. Brown, Will Liverman, Angel Blue, Latonia Moore, Walter Russell III, Ryan Speedo Green, Cheikh M’Baye, Oleode Oshotse, Ejiro Ogodo, Judah Taylor, Norman Garrett, Terrence Chin-Loy, Briana Hunter, Chauncey Packer, Denisha Ballew, Marguerite Mariah Jones

The Met: Live in HD - 23rd October 2021

There are many obvious reasons why Fire Shut Up in My Bones is an important opera. Not only is it the first opera written by a black composer ever to be played at the Met, it was also chosen to be the flagship opera opening the new 2021/22 season. That alone is something to celebrate, never mind the little pleasure that can be taken in the discomfort it will bring to a segment of a certain classical music site's commentariat who live in abject fear of woke-ism encroaching into their sad little world. As important as this is as a historical and a necessary development in the world of opera - it's utterly incredible that black culture has not been represented at the New York opera house until now - the only thing that really matters is whether Fire Shut Up in My Bones is a good opera or not. We can clear up that question right away; it certainly is.

Actually, it's not enough to say it's either an important opera or a good opera; it's much more than that. It's a brilliant opera, tackling a difficult subject boldly and wholly successfully. For a new opera by a black composer to be accepted on its own terms is a considerable challenge, particularly as it could be judged either indulgently or with unreasonable expectations. Terence Blanchard has composed only one opera before, but has considerable musical experience and acclaim as a jazz musician (as a jazz fan, I am familiar with his writing and playing). His talent is abundantly evident here, and it's the fact that he doesn't come from the traditional academic classical position that makes his musical arrangements here far more original than almost any modern opera I've seen in a long time.

The subject of the opera is, as I said, a difficult one and it's well-named; Fire Shut Up in My Bones a biblical reference from Jeremiah to a burning passion that could be love and could be hatred, that simply has to be let out otherwise it will be all-consuming. It's based on the memoir of writer and journalist Charles M. Blow's account of life as a black man in the American South. Race prejudice is certainly an issue that cannot be avoided, but the difficulties experienced by Charles as a child are compounded by him being of a sensitive and delicate disposition. More than anything it's experiencing episodes of sexual abuse by a cousin at the age of 7 that mark the young child and which become something that affects his life thereafter as he struggles to find his place in the world and find a loving relationship.

The construction of the opera as a flashback with a framing device might not seem original but it suffices to grab attention, and once it has you it doesn't let go. Charles has a gun and is on his way back home to kill the man who abused him as a child. Or kill himself. After that however, there is little that is conventional about what also appears to be a difficult coming-of-age story blighted by the horror of living with being sexually abused as a child. What makes this journey extraordinary is not so much the subject - which is of course powerful in its own right - as much as the treatment, and there is nothing about Blanchard's writing that follows any expected musical rule or convention.

It's not just the richness of the musical language used, although again in itself it shifts imperceptibly from sweeping orchestral romantic to swinging jazz, disco, ballet and gospel, but any scene and song arrangement can incorporate a number of those elements blended together or in sequence. Aside from the skillful manner in which this is employed, Blanchard bringing a daring newness and freshness to the Met stage (and credit to the Met for bringing it to the stage also), everything matches and works well with the content. And, since the libretto is so strong, so heartfelt, poetic and meaningful, never sinking to platitudes, each scene brings its own lyrical, emotional and dramatic challenges. What it brilliant is that Blanchard just knocks it out of the park in each scene.

That is immediately apparent in an early scene in Act I in a Louisiana bar where Charles's mother Billie turns up with a gun to settle matters with Charles's no-good womanising father. It's quite classically cinematic, but what is impressive is the concision of it all. Not a line or musical line is wasted. Blanchard uses blues for the playing band, but blends this with music that captures a whole range of situations and characters, capturing a period, place, character and atmosphere to perfection, while at the same time dramatically it just holds you rapt, amused and emotionally connected. It's not just an insert for local colour either but you are aware that this will become a key moment, an important life lesson, without knowing just how vital it will be. And that's only the start. There is not a single superfluous or wasted line or situation that doesn't have a similar purpose and concision that gets the essence of the scene across perfectly.

Only the fraternity scene at the beginning of Act III feels less easy to relate to from a personal perspective and it's a little too coming-of-age making-of-a-man conventional, but even so it's important to the progression of the Charles life. Director Camille A. Brown, working alongside James Robinson, was previously assistant director on last season's Porgy and Bess for the Met, and her experience is principally as a choreographer. That is put to marvellous use in such scenes, bringing a fluidity to the movement that matches the music and progression of the drama. Allen Moyer's sets are simple but effective, using box like constructions that similarly move into place and can be transformed in an instant with projections and lighting without the huge expense for example of Robert LePage's Machine for the Met's Ring Cycle. All this ensures that the opera never feels static.

Blanchard's music is similarly fluid and incremental, each scene building on the previous one, harnessing what has come before and taking it further, creatively, emotionally and lyrically. And this is no relatively short modern opera or music theatre either, but a full length two-and-a-half-hour opera of rich and constantly inventive music with singing that requires real stamina. It's staggering to feel the accumulated impact of it all when streamed live on a cinema screen, but imagine the impact this must have on a member of the audience, seeing the story of a black man presented in this fashion. Imagine the audience that this must bring to the Met for their first experience of an opera, but for anyone, this would simply be an impressive work by any standard. And there is no question that it is wholly operatic in nature.

I've mentioned the qualities of the music and the libretto, but there is so much more than that, and a successful opera demands that equal (not greater or lesser) importance be given to the singing and the stage direction. Needless to say, Fire Shut Up in My Bones got the treatment and cast it deserved. The most demanding role is not Charles or indeed Char'es-Baby, nor even the three important roles that Angel Blue has to carry as Destiny, Loneliness and girlfriend Greta, but the role of Charles's mother. Latonia Moore gave a simply stunning performance as Billie, carrying the full range of emotions that come with a mother's role, and seeing how much she put into every scene in this live stream broadcast was simply phenomenal. It's surely impossible not to be deeply moved by her total engagement with this role and everything it entailed.

Will Liverman as the older Charles had a similar emotional and vocal journey to travel and was thoroughly convincing, working incredibly well with the young Walter Russell III as his younger incarnation. There are not many child roles in opera as extensive as the one written for Char'es Baby. Even Britten's children in Turn of the Screw and those in Humperdinck's Hansel and Gretel are commonly sung by experienced opera singers. I was absolutely dumbfounded and full of admiration for how well Walter Russell III took such a challenging role on the Met stage. Again no special pleading needs to be made here; the role was sung beautifully, flawlessly with real engagement and understanding of character, situation and emotion. This was no mannered stage-school child performance. Showing the complexity of the writing for all the roles, Angel Blue also had an important part to play throughout the opera in different guises and her role and her voice contributed to the richness and the success of the opera as a whole.

A few of the metaphors and use of repeated refrains seem forced in places, but they prove to be important touchstones for the characters to hold a sense of identity, love and purpose. In the end that is really what the story is about, not a colourful life story, a difficult coming-of-age for a young boy to man, not any special pleading or attachment to black lives movement that it could easily have used to its advantage. It has rather an important universal message of empowerment, of taking control of one's life away from the hold others may have over you. That message is brought home emphatically at the conclusion of this remarkable new opera that will hopefully be followed by more from Blanchard, and inspire others. As Charles sings at the end of the opera, this is not the end, it's a beginning.

Links: Metropolitan Opera, The Met: Live in HD 2021-22 season

Mussorgsky - Boris Godunov (New York, 2021)

Modest Mussorgsky - Boris Godunov

The Metropolitan Opera, New York - 2021

Sebastian Weigle, Stephen Wadsworth, René Pape, Ain Anger, Maxim Paster, David Butt Philip, Aleksey Bogdanov, Ryan Speedo Green, Miles Mykkanen, Richard Bernstein, Bradley Garvin, Tichina Vaughn, Brenton Ryan, Kevin Burdette, Erika Baikoff, Megan Marino, Eve Gigliotti, Mark Schowalter

The Met: Live in HD - 9th October 2021

The opportunity to see a staged performance of the original 1869 version of Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov - even in a streamed live performance from the Met in New York - is something that should not be missed. Up until recently, you would have been more likely to see the 1872 revised version or a hybrid of both versions, but rarely nowadays (I haven't seen or heard one in my time watching opera) the Rimsky-Korsakov version. Watching Mussorgsky's original version of the work in a staging at the Paris opera in 2018, was something of a revelation and a sign that it could very easily become the canonical version of the work. The Met's production consolidates that reputation somewhat, but there are still a few reservations about how to best present this problematic opera.

There are certainly valid reasons why the later revisions of the opera were more favoured. Obviously no one wants to lose the additional music and scenes that Mussorgsky composed for the 1872 version, but principally there's the fact that the original wasn't considered to hold together dramatically. There's validity in that and it is something that is confirmed by Stephen Wadsworth's production, but what is also confirmed from the Met's performance of the work - as it was in Ivo van Hove's rather more successful staging of this version in Paris - is that even in its 'embryonic' form Mussorgsky's Boris Godunov is still indisputably a masterpiece.

The Met production consequently struggles to find a way to reconcile this contradiction between the quality of the music and the challenges of representing the dramatic material. Where Ivo van Hove was perhaps more successful than Wadsworth is in the efforts he makes to make the stakes of the drama feel more real - and indeed dramatic - by presenting it in a more recognisable context than the Russian history of the years 1598 to 1605. There are obvious connections to the modern world that can be made in a ruler's handling and manipulation of the people, and how that reliance on populism can turn just as quickly against him, but Wadsworth's production - like most 'safe' Met productions - makes no effort to even hint that there is still relevance in this situation today.

The closest we get to a representation of the context of the rule of Boris Godunov within the tides of history is one that fortunately, Mussorgsky (or perhaps more accurately, Pushkin, the author of the original work the opera is based on) included with the character of Pimen, the monk who is compiling a book of Russian history. This is presented as a huge oversize volume and maps spread out on the stage, testifying to the importance of this period of Russian history, its significance and the lessons we can learn from it. Some indication of where that could go might have made more of this, but it's effective on its own terms.

As generally is the stage production as a whole, setting the mood well and generally matching the dark tone of the work, filling the huge Met stage with the chorus, putting the all-important Russian folk onto the stage. Inevitably, despite the high production values, it does feels a little am-dram period, static and 'stagy' in its depictions of the drama. It doesn't really bare any teeth to really get across just how turbulent and violent this post Ivan the Terrible period of history is. Where is it perhaps most lacking however is in its failure to make the opera work on a dramatic level. That might be as much to do with the nature of the original 1869 version as it is with any deficiencies in the direction, but it still feels dramatically disjointed and incomplete.

Part of the problem for that could be down to the fact that Wadsworth's production was originally created at the Met for performances of the longer 1872 version, so in parallel with the removal of Mussorgsky's added scenes, the production also suffers the same cuts. I don't know whether Wadsworth was involved in the reworking of the cut-back production, there would certainly be some necessary changes made. There is perhaps an extended role for the Holy Fool, present spinning and whirling, mocking Boris even in his coronation scene, a representation of his own folly and madness, an attempt to give the drama additional weight by tying it into the dark Shakespearean horrors of Macbeth and King Lear.

Whether the stage production satisfies or not, the success of the production is nonetheless assured under the musical direction of conductor Sebastian Weigle. Musically its an absolute treat, if somewhat heavy going in its unwavering dark lugubrious tone that plays out for nearly two and a half hours without intermission. If the dramatic representation doesn't beat Boris Godunov down into submission to his fate, the music certainly does, and so too - all importantly - does the chorus. The work of the chorus is simply outstanding, ensuring that the solemn heft of the work carried the necessary weight and depth that was clearly audible in its impact, even in its livestream broadcast.

(On a side note, the quality of these broadcast livestreams - from the Met, Covent Garden and the Paris Opera as well - has improved considerably over the years with stunning HD quality images and powerful sound recording, with no more stream interruptions and breakdowns of communication. Alongside some good camera work - the Met's production directed well for the screen as usual by Gary Halvorson - that captures angles and closeups, it's becoming a great way to experience live opera in a time of restricted travel).

The quality of the musical performance and chorus certainly played an important part, but good principal casting and singing can make all the difference to any failings in the dramatic presentation. That was certainly the case here with René Pape singing the role of Boris. It's the performance of an experienced bass with great technique who also has the maturity to bring real human emotion to characters like Boris just as he has done with Philippe II in Verdi's Don Carlos. He puts real dramatic weight and character behind Boris, savouring the beauty and conflict of the role and Mussorgsky's extraordinary writing for it.

Pape's tormented magisterial performance is supported by similarly fine performances from Ain Anger as Pimen and Maxim Paster as Shuisky, both bringing long previous experience of heavyweight Russian opera and indeed prior experience of these Mussorgsky roles to similar effect. Supporting roles were also well handled, from Miles Mykkanen's Holy Fool to an enjoyable performance from Ryan Speedo Green as Varlaam, his reading of the ukaz, the wanted edict for the Pretender Grigoriy, enlivening a scene that can otherwise seem random and at odds with the tone of the rest of the work. All of this went a considerable way towards bringing across the sheer brilliance of this great opera despite some minor reservations about the stage production and direction.

Links: Metropolitan Opera, The Met: Live in HD 2021-22 season

Verdi - Rigoletto (Wiener Staatsoper, 2014 - ORF2 TV)

Giuseppe Verdi - Rigoletto

Wiener Staatsoper, 2014

Myung-Whun Chung, Pierre Audi, Piotr Beczala, Simon Keenlyside, Paolo Rumetz, Erin Morley, Ryan Speedo Green, Elena Maximova, Donna Ellen, Sorin Coliban, Mihail Dogotari, James Kryshak, Marcus Pelz, Lydia Rathkolb, Hila Fahima

ORF2 TV - 20 December 2014

Rigoletto is a cruel little opera. It's hard to tell whether it's genuinely cynical about love and family or whether, as the title of Victor Hugo's original work 'Le roi s'amuse' suggests, it's critical of how the nobility run roughshod over the ordinary citizen in their pursuit of self-interest. What can probably be said with a little more certainty is that the author at least intentionally exploits the sentiment and poignancy of his characters by putting them through moments of intense cruelty just to heighten the melodrama to make readers and audiences gasp. Whatever the original intentions might have been, Verdi's in his first great masterpiece where he firmly makes his own personal mark of genius upon the rigid format of the traditional opera template, recognises the full value of each moment, each situation and each character, and plays one off against the other with incredible skill.

Verdi of course does this, and in doing so advances upon the number opera format, by composing Rigoletto as a series of duets that use the same opposition of lofty ideals with cruel reality. The Duke sees it all as fun while Monterone suffers the abuse of his authority; Rigoletto believes himself a wit who strikes with the word, but he's prepared to consider the more satisfying immediacy of Sparafucile's sword; Rigoletto tries to spare his daughter Gilda from the harsh reality of the world, and in so doing leaves her naivety to be exploited so cruelly by the 'vil razza dannata' whose bidding he serves. Even the Duke's idea of the deal that has been struck between himself and Sparafucile's 'sister' differs from the reality of their transaction, although even this is twisted away in turn from what Rigoletto believes to be the case. The outcome, fate, or the curse that afflicts them would seem to be particularly cruel in this respect towards those with the most to lose.

In itself however, Verdi's music has no moral outlook on the different views and expresses no cynicism towards the characters, or at least he treats each of them with equanimity. He gives Gilda a sensitive and heartfelt aria in 'Caro nome' - even as we know the true nature of her beloved - and views the Duke's nature in 'Questa o quella' and 'La donna è mobile' not from an objective outside view, but as the Duke sees himself, as a cheeky and loveable rogue. At the same time, Verdi recognises the dark side of the nature of man and that simmers in the background throughout the heightened conflict of ideals, building in each act of the opera, finding full expression at the conclusions of each of those acts, and each of those acts in turn further increasing the stakes upon the previous one. It's masterful composition.

As the opera's tone darkens however towards the pitch black Act III, it becomes harder to reconcile those opposing views that lean towards melodrama, but Verdi still does it. Gilda's sacrifice in Act III would make no sense where it not for Verdi's music having indicated and convinced the listener to her innocence, nobility and purity throughout. It's not so much that this naivety is exploited, as far as Verdi is concerned, for the sake of torrid melodrama, as much as it is necessary to believe in some kind of redemption in such a dark world. This makes all the difference, and it's what also makes Rigoletto greater as an opera in comparison to the unmitigated darkness of earlier works like I Due Foscari, where the humanity is buried too deeply in the bleakness of the situations and the fates of the characters.

A production of Rigoletto ideally has to find a similar balance if it is to match Verdi's intentions, although there's no reason why a director can't put emphasis elsewhere, should it suit the purposes of the production. Verdi's art is not so restrictive that it doesn't allow other interpretations to work and be fully expressed. Pierre Audi's production - not terribly well received at its December 2014 première in Vienna - doesn't make a big deal of the period or the location, but is rather very much about setting mood. A revolving stage depicts the Duke's palace in golden hues of faded and peeling glitter and Rigoletto's residence as grey and shabby place, which probably reflects the reality that underlies the character of the owners of these respective places. The space that lies between them is a barren area of broken trees, but the skull-like ramshackle construction of the inn also goes some way towards expressing the increasing intensity of Verdi's score in the third Act. 'I see hell itself' says Gilda at the inn, and this at least looks like it.

All of this gives an impression of a fairly sordid world, one where innocence couldn't possibly exist, and as such one in which Gilda's sacrifice is all the more starkly contrasted. An additional directorial touch shows Monterone being executed in the barren wasteland, making his curse - la maledizone - that is such an important theme in the work, all the more vivid and terrible to Rigoletto. Myung-Whun Chung's measured conducting of the work however doesn't gel all that well with the production design and the directing. He tends to work on a slower-paced build-up in the duets that takes much of the pace and ferocity out of them, but the marks are hit at all the critical junctures, most notably in Gilda's entrance to the inn during the storm. There is no lack of impact from either the staging or the pit at the conclusion, which suggests that everything up to getting there has been successfully put in place as well.

Principally in Rigoletto however, it's the voices that matter most in establishing individual character, and getting that right can make all the difference, particularly in how those roles play off one another in the duets. As essential as the Duke and Gilda are - and they are well performed here by Piotr Beczala's Pirates of the Caribbean-styled Duke and a determined knowing-her-own-mind Gilda in Erin Morley - Rigoletto is evidently central to nearly all those duets, his arrogance over the importance of his position as the Duke's fool, his fear of the curse and his over-protectiveness of Gilda preventing him from being able to stand up and make the necessary clear-headed decisions that are needed to survive in the ruthless court of the Duke. The Vienna production's Rigoletto was superbly cast in Simon Keenlyside to bring such characteristics out, but the première performance nonetheless ran into some unexpected problems.

Visibly unwell in the first act of the première Keenlyside's voice failed him and, according to reports, he was forced to withdraw following Act II's Cortigiani on the first night and was replaced by Paolo Rumetz for the remainder of the performance. Although this would have been broadcast live to TV and cinemas on the 20th Dec, the version I viewed on ORF's catch-up service on the 24th Dec showed Rumetz singing the whole of Act II and III. Keenlyside's Act I performance was retained however, without the footage of him breaking down in Act II, so presumably the complete Act II was inserted from the subsequent performance on the 23rd. Even though ill, there's enough here to see how different a performance this Rigoletto would have been with Keenlyside in the title role.

Act I shows a much more robust, distinctive performance, with Keenlyside's usual attention to character detail, expressing genuine feeling with an absence of the more 'operatic' mannerisms that can be found in Rumetz's version. On full form, Keenlyside's interaction with the cast in the remaining acts would undoubted have lifted this production significantly in how he plays off Beczala and Morley (reports have said as much about a blistering Act II duet with Gilda before his voice broke down). As it is, Rumetz is more than capable in the role, and considering the circumstances, even outstanding in taking over the role mid-performance. Only Elena Maximova seemed completely miscast and lost as Maddalena - strong enough as part of the quartet, but when singing solo her weakness in delivery and diction were very apparent. Keenlyside returned at the curtain call and was applauded, but despite the predictable booing in some sections for Audi's production team, this was a valiant effort that just unfortunately ran into some unavoidable problems.