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The Guardian
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Beginner's Gluck: how the 18th-century composer and a castrato changed opera forever
Operas tell stories; like all great art, the operas that endure don't just tell stories – they reshape the way stories can be told. And it takes more than memorable tunes and a finely honed libretto to bring a piece into the hallowed pantheon of the operatic canon. Often it is the challenging of expectations that moves the dial for ever, permitting the art form to evolve, inspire and establish new ways of telling old stories. In my career as a countertenor opera singer I am often to be found singing the works of Handel, a composer whose oeuvre helped to define opera in the first half of the 18th century. Today, we often perform his operas in a style that befits our time; directors such as Katie Mitchell, Barrie Kosky, Richard Jones or Claus Guth push the singing actor far beyond what the famed castrati or prima donnas of Handel's day were expected to do. And, as I prepare to take on singing Gluck's opera Orpheus and Eurydice at the Edinburgh international festival I am acutely aware that its success will lie in both the staging and the piece itself. A quarter of a millennium ago Gluck's work broke new ground by challenging audiences' expectations. This staging with Circa will do the same. Gluck and his librettist Calzabigi 'reformed' opera. They wanted to move towards a noble simplicity and away from arcane plots. They chose for their mission the story of Orpheus and his descent into the underworld to rescue his wife, Eurydice. At its heart then was a character famed for his musical skill, moreover one who played an intrinsic role in the interpretation of classical mythology in western culture. The final piece in their jigsaw was to engage the famous Italian castrato Gaetano Guadagni, who as a young singer had enjoyed great success working in London with Handel. Together with Gluck, Guadagni found a musical language that did away with complex virtuosity – instead of arias that paused to reflect and repeat, as the audiences at the time were used to, it focused on driving the drama forwards. In fact, Guadagni had made many enemies in the London audiences who were said to have hissed his appearance on the stage after his refusal to bow to acknowledge applause (in order to maintain dramatic unity). He also shunned the overindulgence, prevalent at the time, to repeat well-received arias. Most notably, it was his association with the English actor David Garrick that bore fruit in his subsequent collaboration with Gluck. Garrick himself had changed the English stage. Gone were the soliloquies delivered standing stock-still. He dared to move around the stage while talking, gesticulate and, even (rare at the time), listen to the other characters and react to what they said! He was admired for his range of facial expressions and the air of truthfulness he brought to his parts. He worked with Guadagni in London and it is clear that the singer adopted the actor's innovative stage behaviour. Guadagni's commitment to playing Orpheus over the span of his later life suggests an empathy with the character brought about by an involvement with the role akin to what we might call method acting. In a break from operatic tradition, the majority of Gluck's new opera was declamatory in nature, hardly ever pausing to signal a shift from the recitative (the more narrative parts, often sung in the rhythm of speech) to the songs or arias. On stage in Gluck's new work, Guadagni was noted for his continuous acting throughout; he was praised for the resultant vigour and verisimilitude this brought. This shift would have shocked audiences of the time. In a daring challenge to his colleagues, the castrato no longer put himself first, but rather the character and the story. As a result he was one of the first singers ever to build a career through identification with a single role. It's a role that I have sung before in concert and on record but not as yet on stage. I associate closely with Guadagni, having performed a number of his parts written for him by Handel, and also in sharing the dubious honour of us both having had racehorses named after us. (Mr Davies's career was not long, nor distinguished). My countertenor range probably shares many of the qualities of a falsetto singer such as Guadagni. Countertenor voices are often described as 'otherworldly' and 'ethereal' in sound, and there's a beautiful, expressive legato to be found throughout Guadagni's roles that appeals to me. Furthermore, in the past two decades of my career I have relished more than anything else opportunities that give me a chance to be a 'singing actor' in the truest sense of the phrase. I learned a great deal from being on stage opposite Mark Rylance in the play Farinelli and the King: the magic he was able to conjure through his tinkering with rhythm and phrasing; dynamic range seemed to be a key attribute to his delivery; and, above all, his constant connection with the audience via an invisible thread that tugged gently at their attention throughout was masterly. I can see a connection to how to play Orpheus, who as a lone character on the stage is so inside of himself, and the subtle way in which actors such as Rylance communicate their thoughts with such transparency. Helping me on this journey is the breathtaking performing arts company Circa together with its artistic director Yaron Lifschitz. At the time of writing I have yet to meet them and my experience of this production has been limited to watching a dress-rehearsal video (the staging premiered in Australia in 2019). But it is not often that I find myself gasping out loud at so many moments of heart-stopping wonder as the acrobats climb, tumble, fall, stretch, dance and cover the stage in a kind of physical expression of the inner machinations of Orpheus's mind. At certain points, I will be literally standing on the shoulders of these giants and pushing my own boundaries of my stage experience to date. Gluck's opera combined the beauty of singing with the poise and refinement of ballet and there's no lack of gracefulness in Circa's often audacious schemes. Indeed, at all times it looks and feels human; I can imagine the excitement Gluck's Viennese audience would have felt in seeing this new and energetic style when I watch Circa. The story transforms from a psychological drama into a living and breathing organism around the two central singers. The Australian soprano Samantha Clarke, in a twist on tradition, performs both the roles of Eurydice and Amore (Cupid) in director Yaron Liftschitz's interpretation. When a great opera tells a story well, as Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice does, it becomes a piece we can bring back time and time again. And in the hands of an imaginative director, surprises emerge that cast new light on the music in ways you never imagined. I have been lucky enough to be a part of Barrie Kosky's hit production of Handel's Saul at Glyndebourne this summer, and what I have learned from it is that when you challenge expectations, and do so with vivid imagination and a sprinkling of audacity fuelled with integrity and commitment, you are more than likely to make people sit up and engage. In Orpheus and Eurydice, Gluck, Calzabigi and Guadagni knew this too. Orpheus and Eurydice (with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra and chorus of Scottish Opera) is at Edinburgh Playhouse from 13-16 August, part of the Edinburgh international festival
The Guardian
7 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Beginner's Gluck: how the 18th-century composer and a castrato changed opera forever
Operas tell stories; like all great art, the operas that endure don't just tell stories – they reshape the way stories can be told. And it takes more than memorable tunes and a finely honed libretto to bring a piece into the hallowed pantheon of the operatic canon. Often it is the challenging of expectations that moves the dial for ever, permitting the art form to evolve, inspire and establish new ways of telling old stories. In my career as a countertenor opera singer I am often to be found singing the works of Handel, a composer whose oeuvre helped to define opera in the first half of the 18th century. Today, we often perform his operas in a style that befits our time; directors such as Katie Mitchell, Barrie Kosky, Richard Jones or Claus Guth push the singing actor far beyond what the famed castrati or prima donnas of Handel's day were expected to do. And, as I prepare to take on singing Gluck's opera Orpheus and Eurydice at the Edinburgh international festival I am acutely aware that its success will lie in both the staging and the piece itself. A quarter of a millennium ago Gluck's work broke new ground by challenging audiences' expectations. This staging with Circa will do the same. Gluck and his librettist Calzabigi 'reformed' opera. They wanted to move towards a noble simplicity and away from arcane plots. They chose for their mission the story of Orpheus and his descent into the underworld to rescue his wife, Eurydice. At its heart then was a character famed for his musical skill, moreover one who played an intrinsic role in the interpretation of classical mythology in western culture. The final piece in their jigsaw was to engage the famous Italian castrato Gaetano Guadagni, who as a young singer had enjoyed great success working in London with Handel. Together with Gluck, Guadagni found a musical language that did away with complex virtuosity – instead of arias that paused to reflect and repeat, as the audiences at the time were used to, it focused on driving the drama forwards. In fact, Guadagni had made many enemies in the London audiences who were said to have hissed his appearance on the stage after his refusal to bow to acknowledge applause (in order to maintain dramatic unity). He also shunned the overindulgence, prevalent at the time, to repeat well-received arias. Most notably, it was his association with the English actor David Garrick that bore fruit in his subsequent collaboration with Gluck. Garrick himself had changed the English stage. Gone were the soliloquies delivered standing stock-still. He dared to move around the stage while talking, gesticulate and, even (rare at the time), listen to the other characters and react to what they said! He was admired for his range of facial expressions and the air of truthfulness he brought to his parts. He worked with Guadagni in London and it is clear that the singer adopted the actor's innovative stage behaviour. Guadagni's commitment to playing Orpheus over the span of his later life suggests an empathy with the character brought about by an involvement with the role akin to what we might call method acting. In a break from operatic tradition, the majority of Gluck's new opera was declamatory in nature, hardly ever pausing to signal a shift from the recitative (the more narrative parts, often sung in the rhythm of speech) to the songs or arias. On stage in Gluck's new work, Guadagni was noted for his continuous acting throughout; he was praised for the resultant vigour and verisimilitude this brought. This shift would have shocked audiences of the time. In a daring challenge to his colleagues, the castrato no longer put himself first, but rather the character and the story. As a result he was one of the first singers ever to build a career through identification with a single role. It's a role that I have sung before in concert and on record but not as yet on stage. I associate closely with Guadagni, having performed a number of his parts written for him by Handel, and also in sharing the dubious honour of us both having had racehorses named after us. (Mr Davies's career was not long, nor distinguished). My countertenor range probably shares many of the qualities of a falsetto singer such as Guadagni. Countertenor voices are often described as 'otherworldly' and 'ethereal' in sound, and there's a beautiful, expressive legato to be found throughout Guadagni's roles that appeals to me. Furthermore, in the past two decades of my career I have relished more than anything else opportunities that give me a chance to be a 'singing actor' in the truest sense of the phrase. I learned a great deal from being on stage opposite Mark Rylance in the play Farinelli and the King: the magic he was able to conjure through his tinkering with rhythm and phrasing; dynamic range seemed to be a key attribute to his delivery; and, above all, his constant connection with the audience via an invisible thread that tugged gently at their attention throughout was masterly. I can see a connection to how to play Orpheus, who as a lone character on the stage is so inside of himself, and the subtle way in which actors such as Rylance communicate their thoughts with such transparency. Helping me on this journey is the breathtaking performing arts company Circa together with its artistic director Yaron Lifschitz. At the time of writing I have yet to meet them and my experience of this production has been limited to watching a dress-rehearsal video (the staging premiered in Australia in 2019). But it is not often that I find myself gasping out loud at so many moments of heart-stopping wonder as the acrobats climb, tumble, fall, stretch, dance and cover the stage in a kind of physical expression of the inner machinations of Orpheus's mind. At certain points, I will be literally standing on the shoulders of these giants and pushing my own boundaries of my stage experience to date. Gluck's opera combined the beauty of singing with the poise and refinement of ballet and there's no lack of gracefulness in Circa's often audacious schemes. Indeed, at all times it looks and feels human; I can imagine the excitement Gluck's Viennese audience would have felt in seeing this new and energetic style when I watch Circa. The story transforms from a psychological drama into a living and breathing organism around the two central singers. The Australian soprano Samantha Clarke, in a twist on tradition, performs both the roles of Eurydice and Amore (Cupid) in director Yaron Liftschitz's interpretation. When a great opera tells a story well, as Gluck's Orpheus and Eurydice does, it becomes a piece we can bring back time and time again. And in the hands of an imaginative director, surprises emerge that cast new light on the music in ways you never imagined. I have been lucky enough to be a part of Barrie Kosky's hit production of Handel's Saul at Glyndebourne this summer, and what I have learned from it is that when you challenge expectations, and do so with vivid imagination and a sprinkling of audacity fuelled with integrity and commitment, you are more than likely to make people sit up and engage. In Orpheus and Eurydice, Gluck, Calzabigi and Guadagni knew this too. Orpheus and Eurydice (with the Scottish Chamber Orchestra and chorus of Scottish Opera) is at Edinburgh Playhouse from 13-16 August
The Guardian
09-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Saul review – probing, dark and engrossing staging of Handel's oratorio
The Glyndebourne season continues with a revival by Donna Stirrup of Barrie Kosky's 2015 staging of Handel's Saul, widely regarded as one of the festival's finest achievements and the production that cemented Kosky's reputation in the UK as a director of remarkable originality. This is the first time I've seen it, having missed both its opening run and the 2018 revival, and it strikes me as an example of Kosky's work at its finest: probing, insightful, sometimes witty, sometimes dark, always utterly engrossing. Premiered in 1739, Saul has often been compared to King Lear. There is much of Shakespeare in this portrait by Handel and his librettist, Charles Jennens, of the Old Testament king whose mind slowly disintegrates under the challenges presented to him politically and privately by David after the death of Goliath. Mindful that the work also examines the moral arguments around dethroning an anointed king – still a huge issue in the wake of the Revolution of 1688 – Kosky updates the oratorio to the time of composition, though his 18th century is a stylised, hedonistic place, reminiscent of Hogarth or Fellini's Casanova in its gaudy seediness. Garish colours give way to black in the second half when Saul's behaviour drags his country into war. Kosky underpins the Shakespearean resonances by weaving four small roles together for a single performer (tenor Liam Bonthrone), effectively a jester, who stands in relation to Saul much as the Fool does to Lear. Jonathan Cohen conducts the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment with great subtlety and dramatic weight, admirably capturing the work's sometimes unsettling urgency. Christopher Purves (Saul) and Iestyn Davies (David) are both returning to the roles they played in 2015. Purves's snarling delivery has an almost expressionist ferocity, but he is of course a superb actor and his depiction of Saul's mental breakdown is at times almost distressingly vivid. Davies is his perfect foil, always calm and psychologically centred, suggesting unswerving certainties of faith. His voice remains unearthly in its beauty, and time stands still when he sings Oh Lord, Whose Mercies Numberless. The rest of the cast are equally strong. Sarah Brady's Merab is all hauteur and adamantine coloratura, in contrast to Soraya Mafi's softer voiced Michal. Linard Vrielink makes an outstanding Jonathan, handsomely lyrical, his love for David beautifully realised, while Bonthrone is wonderfully caustic as Kosky's newly created fool. The chorus, whether sashaying through one of Otto Pichler's classy dance routines, or negotiating Handel's complex counterpoint with perfect clarity, are simply sensational. At Glyndebourne until 24 July
New York Times
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- New York Times
A Soprano Jumped Into the ‘Ring.' Now the Role Is Entirely Hers.
In Wagner's opera 'Die Walküre,' Sieglinde develops in the shadow of controlling men. 'This house and woman belong to Hunding,' she tells a stranger seeking refuge — who turns out to be Siegmund, her brother and lover, and the only man to show her true respect. But later, as Siegmund wonders aloud whether he will kill himself and his partner, rather than facing a future alone in the godly realm of Valhalla, she is fast asleep. Agency over Sieglinde's life choices passes from one man to another. How, then, does a performer make her mark while playing a character defined by absence? The Welsh-Ukrainian soprano Natalya Romaniw provides an answer in Barrie Kosky's new production of 'Die Walküre,' which continues through Saturday at the Royal Opera House in London. (It will be broadcast in cinemas on Wednesday.) She is offering a vividly psychological portrait of a woman whose spiritual core has been shattered, leaving behind a shell of a person, unable to settle in any emotional state. 'It's important to find the arc,' Romaniw said of Sieglinde's character development in a recent interview. From a starting point as 'the epitome of femininity (very caring, loyal),' the appearance of Siegmund prompts Sieglinde's 'reawakening.' Elation follows, then madness; when Sieglinde awakens from sleep in Act III, describing visions of Hunding's dogs — a symbol of potential retribution for her infidelity — the weight of guilt and shame drives her into despair. Sieglinde, Romaniw said, concludes by believing 'that dishonor is just the end.' Romaniw has become a regular at Covent Garden. She made her house debut in 2022 by replacing Anna Netrebko in Jonathan Kent's celebrated production of Puccini's 'Tosca.' Earlier this year, she portrayed a devastating Helena in Mark-Anthony Turnage's new opera 'Festen.' And for 'Die Walküre,' Romaniw is jumping in for another A-list soprano, Lise Davidsen, who has bowed out of her engagements because she is pregnant. Sieglinde is Romaniw's first major Wagner role. Historically, she has been known as a Puccinian, her lyric soprano more associated with roles like Tosca and Cio-Cio-San. By her own admission, 'Wagner's not something I think about often.' But for Kosky's production of the Wagner's four-opera 'Ring,' which is being rolled out over several seasons, the director has sought out singers making role debuts 'so they could come with absolutely no preconceptions to the rehearsal,' he said. Still, Sieglinde is not a role that singers take on at short notice. 'I've rarely seen a singer come in under that sort of pressure, doing that sort of role in this kind of production, and fearlessly and relentlessly work for seven weeks,' Kosky said. It's a risk that has paid off. The Times of London called Romaniw's 'O hehrstes Wunder' scene in Act III 'the most thrilling vocal moment in this 'Ring' so far.' Antonio Pappano, who is conducting the production, said by email: 'The evenness and warmth of the voice and her ability to inject each phrase with the right depth of feeling makes her ideal for this part.' Romaniw, he said, 'has made the role her own.' ROMANIW GREW UP near Swansea, Wales, and was raised by her mother, a police officer working on domestic violence cases, and her grandparents. Nobody in her family was especially musical, but there was something operatic about her Ukrainian grandfather, a confident, eccentric character who would break into song regularly while walking down the street. She moved to London to attend the Guildhall School of Music and Drama without having ever seen an opera. (Verdi's 'Falstaff,' her first, was a fun introduction. 'Then I saw 'Capriccio,'' she said with a laugh. 'I still can't get into it.') In just her second year of college, Romaniw represented Wales in the BBC Cardiff Singer of the World competition, next to singers with contracts at La Scala, the Bolshoi Theater and the Metropolitan Opera. 'What I had was fearlessness,' she said. 'And I was very, very gullible.' Romaniw was surprised, then, when she felt fear. While in Houston, on the Young Artist program there, sudden lucidity onstage led to major performance anxiety, she said. 'You can put yourself in some really crippling positions where you inhibit yourself, because you're too obsessed with wanting everything to be perfect,' she said. This anxiety, added to the feeling of 'too many cooks' involved with her technique, had her returning to Britain feeling like 'a nervous wreck.' It took six months to get psychologically ready to take any singing advice again. Romaniw has been an ambassador for the charity Help Musicians for the past five years, and is happy to speak about topics like stage fright, weight changes and mental health issues, which previous generations of opera stars might have shied away from. 'Selfishly, I used to quite enjoy it if I saw someone of quite high status making mistakes,' she said. 'I was like, 'See, they're human!' I would have given anything for someone to say, 'I sang Gilda at E.N.O. and I missed the top note.'' In recent years, Romaniw's voice has developed as her body has changed. When she was pregnant in 2023, she was singing Ariadne in Strauss's 'Ariadne auf Naxos' at Garsington Opera. Suddenly she felt her sound deepen. 'It was really refreshing and surprising to sink into these long, big, broad lines,' she said. 'My breath work got better, because I had that lower-down support that helped me feel like I could just soar over the orchestra.' Soaring over an orchestra is necessary to sing a Wagner role, and it's a perennial worry for performers who take on his operas. Romaniw's sound is lighter than Davidsen's, but at Covent Garden it traveled with clarity, across the register. 'With the whole Wagner thing, I've always known to be careful,' she said. In the future, she expects to take on two more lyric roles from his works: Elsa in 'Lohengrin' and Eva in 'Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg.' She doubts, though, that Brünnhilde will come any time soon. 'I'm probably on this Wagner bus now,' she said, even if she is determined to get off that bus at regular intervals. 'There's always time for Wagner.'
Western Telegraph
11-05-2025
- Entertainment
- Western Telegraph
Torch Theatre: Royal Opera House screening in Pembrokeshire
The Pembrokeshire theatre is embarking on its 'cinema season,' which will kick off with a live screening of 'Die Walküre' (The Valkyrie) by The Royal Ballet and Opera. This opera-ballet extravaganza will be directed by Barrie Kosky and conducted by Antonio Pappano. The screening brings Wagner's tale of gods and mortals battling it out further, following the saga that began with 'Das Rheingold' in 2023. The storyline follows a love entwined with fate that could potentially be powerful enough to end the world. Meanwhile, an epic confrontation ensues between Wotan, played by Christopher Maltman, the king of gods, and his rebellious daughter Brünnhilde, enacted by Elisabet Strid. Viewers will be treated to a visually compelling stage setup by designer Rufus Didwiszus, with costumes by Victoria Behr and lighting by Alessandro Carletti. Critically acclaimed by the Guardian's Erica Jeal who gave the show four stars, the production will be sung in German with translated captions for English speakers. The show starts at 2pm on Sunday, May 18. Tickets are priced at £20 per person, with a concessional rate of £18. Those under the age of 26 can enter at £9 per head. Further information can be found on the Torch Theatre website or via telephone on 01646 695267. The Royal Opera House is renowned for its ballet and opera productions. For those in need of further assistance, contact the Box Office.
