Five Fresh FroSchs

Ladies, we went on a pilgrimage to five cities in thirteen months to see Richard Strauss's Die Frau ohne Schatten. Each evening reawakened us to flesh, yet a curious silence had continued to cage our thoughts, a reluctance to break the viscous reverie. But now the return of my favorite Strauss to Sieglinde's home the Met after an eleven-year absence is inciting us to break this caution and revive the spirits in these diaries. What glints of fraying memory can we protect from the unstoppable winds of age? And can you tell that this paragraph was written melodramatically by ChatGPT?

Strauss DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. Wiener Staatsoper, 21.X.2023; c. Thielemann; van den Heever, Pankratova, Baumgartner, Schager, Volle.

The first was in VIENNA, at the Wiener Staatsoper, in October 2023, with none other than Maestro Christian Thielemann at the helm. What an evening to herald Sieglinde’s first time at the Staatsoper— and to see a FroSch, which coincidentally also premiered in this theater in 1919; led by the very conductor who seduced her in December 2001 when he brought a new production to the Met (still the current Wernicke production); spotlighting the crystal voice of Deborah Voigt (Empress) and the wallop of Gabriele Schnaut (Dyer’s Wife), two powerhouses born to sing those roles. Looking back to 2001, when just after 9/11 and having finished a Ph.D., this music among all others filled the emptiness and that up to this day bubbles up and unsettles. That was also the time that Sieglinde started to attend multiple evenings of the same run, finding her place in the famed balcony boxes where sound and cost find a happy optimum. This was also, if memory serves, the first time we threw confetti at the Met (for Voigt, yes). Indeed, Vienna’s 2023 FroSch brought us back to those heady days, with Thielemann still injecting surprises in music we felt we knew inside and out, and with the astonishing Empress of Elza van den Heever, the uncanny sonic reincarnation of Deborah Voigt, dominating an evening of superb singers—among them, a tireless Elena Pankratova (Dyer’s Wife), a graceful Tomasz Konieczny (Barak), and a tired yet strangely alluring Andreas Schager (Emperor).

Strauss DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. Opera de Lyon, 22.X.2023; c. Rustioni; Jakubiak, Braid, Ammann, Wolfsteiner, Wagner.

The second was in LYON, at the Opera de Lyon the following day, a stopover on my way back to Paris by train, would you believe?! This crazy trip in the fall of 2023 was precipitated by the necessity to be at Waltraud Meier’s abschied at the Staatsoper Unter den Linden, as Klytamnestra, among her signature roles in an opera company that was her spiritual home. I was already in Europe that week to visit friends and to catch Kirill Serebrennikov’s dreamy Lohengrin in Paris. In truth Meier’s momentous farewell to the stage would have been sufficient reason to leave my friends back in Paris for the weekend, but what sealed the weekend junket was the aforementioned Thielemann FroSch in Vienna only a short hop from Berlin. But since our flight back to New York was originating from Paris, we had to decipher routes from Vienna. That was when we stumbled upon a run of FroSch tucked quietly in Lyon, which we realized was just a fast direct train from CDG. Opera de Lyon is not stuff of Sieglinde’s daydreams but Maestro Daniele Rustioni is. Charismatic, energetic, yummy, he conducted a Falstaff at the Met in 2023 that was shimmering. Rustioni has been Opera de Lyon’s principal conductor since 2017 and just recently announced as the Met’s principal guest conductor beginning 2025: we are beyond thrilled with this development. Sieglinde made sure to sit right above the orchestra to have a full view of this Maestro’s gyrations. Indeed, he crafted a fresh and alert FroSch, distinct from Thielemann’s but as vivid, with a youthful cast and orchestra that responded positively to his generous encouragement. We saw him wink at the singers and the principal cellist to signal his praise and we were instantly in love. Among the standouts was soprano Ambur Braid, who sang a fully alive and intense Dyer’s Wife, and who along with Josef Wagner’s Barak actually brought tears to our eyes in their sensitive Act I duet. (It may have been the jetlag too that made us a bit sensitive and weepy.)

Strauss DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. Semperoper Dresden, 23.III.2024; c. Thielemann; Nylund, Värelä, Herlitzius, Cutler, Pushniak.

The third was in DRESDEN, at the Semperoper this past spring, in March 2024. We were in Berlin to see Philippe Jordan’s Ring Cycle at the Staatsoper Unter den Linden, and who would not travel two hours by train to see a FroSch sandwiched between the Siegfried and the Götterdämmerung evenings? And does seeing the same opera in three cities (and counting) make us automatic Thielemann groupies? How we wish they had courted him instead of the unsalvageable Yannick Nézet-Séguin when they were seeking James Levine’s replacement a few years back. We couldn’t even imagine the impact of that without pulling our wigs and wailing. So yes, it was Maestro Thielemann once more, holding court in his stately opera house, with Camilla Nylund dazzling as the Empress and Miina Liisa Värelä (can I buy a vowel?) as a fantastic Dyer’s Wife, alongside Eric Cutler as a sympathetic Emperor. Having seen Evelyn Herlitzius as Kundry at the Met, we declare that she is much more effective in a smaller venue: her Amme was remarkably expressive. Dresdeners love their Semperoper company and it was thrilling to finally experience this storied opera house, the site of many world premieres that include many of Strauss’s works (Salome, Elektra, Der Rosenkavalier, and on and on). And we can’t recall seeing an entire orchestra take a curtain call onstage (in an opera that is not the Ring), which was nice to see, if a bit pompous. But the audience was so game to give a lusty standing ovation, and no one left until the last curtain call. We wouldn’t be surprised at all if that was a term in Thielemann’s contract with the city.

Strauss DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. Berlin Staatsoper Unter den Linden, 9.XI.2024; c. Trinks; Nylund, Pankratova, Schuster, Schager, Pushniak.

And the fourth was in BERLIN just a few weeks ago, at the Staatsoper Unter den Linden, under the baton of Maestro Constantin Trinks, who is new to us. We sensed a rapport between Trinks and the Staatskapelle Berlin, and it paid dividends in the intimacy that surprised us coming from what we know to be such a bombastic score. Camilla Nylund once again dominated the occasion as the Empress, pumping out liquid gold that seared deeper as the night unfolded. Like Herlitzius, Michaela Schuster ought to be heard in smaller spaces where one can appreciate the intelligence and comic energy she brings to the role of Die Amme. In this we saw, once again, Elena Pankratova tear up the role of the Dyer’s Wife. Andreas Schager is beloved in these parts and can do no wrong, even with an over-the-hill Emperor fighting through the role’s high tessitura. Ever the creature of the side boxes, Sieglinde is also now appreciating the intensity of the front row seats, where the seats quiver with the orchestra’s every turn and where a blasting fff from a singer can be a health hazard. And should we sing the praise for the newly refurbished Staatsoper Unter den Linden, truly the crown jewel of the operatic universe.

Strauss DIE FRAU OHNE SCHATTEN. Met Opera, 29.XI.2024; c. Nézet-Séguin; van den Heever, Lindstrom, Stemme, Thomas, Volle.

Which brings us to the fifth, in our own backyard NEW YORK CITY, the Met resurrecting Herbert Wernicke’s literally dazzling production of mirrors, light effects, and sharp reflections, easily my favorite production of the five. The short king on the podium, Maestro Yannick Nézet-Séguin (let's henceforth refer to as YNS), knows two settings and two settings only—melodrama and fortissimo. These settings work serviceably for this opera, making its surface shine, but after hearing the triumvirate of Thielemann, Rustioni, and Trinks imagine this work, YNS once again comes off as a boorish creature of Hollywood. With some exceptions (notably his Met Parsifal in 2018), there is little depth in his conducting, all primary color and no shading, sadly nothing to contribute to the art. To be charitable for a moment, FroSch benefits from a conductor who can unleash the expansive sound of a huge orchestra, and this our maestro did well, shamelessly challenging every singer on stage. Michael Volle, this run’s Barak, normally deploying a sweet and dignified baritone which was on full display in Act I, was visibly wrestling with the monstrous Act III orchestra. We enjoyed that contest for sure. As the Dyer’s Wife, Soprano Lise Lindstom, in our first hearing, has a light but piercing soprano, which became fuller as the evening unfolded. Tenor Russell Thomas, decorous and proper, appeared to have won his battle with the Emperor’s showy, highflying pieces. Nina Stemme, originally slated to sing the Dyer’s Wife, went full blast as Die Amme in her role debut, her tattered, hard-edged soprano infusing the character fittingly.

The star of the Met evening, the star of the five FroSchs, and among the shiniest stars of Sieglinde’s current pantheon is Elza van den Heever, Thielemann’s Empress in Vienna last year, reprising the role at the Met this season. It would have been thrilling enough to receive a voice to equal pre-gastric-bypass Deborah Voigt’s, but she is more than a copy. Her voice, more emotive than Voigt’s, cuts through any thick orchestration effortlessly, but not the kind of squeal that Lise Davidsen dispenses (our other favorite soprano these days, by the way). We foretell that someday, there will be a Die Walküre that will feature van den Heever’s Sieglinde opposite Lise Davidsen’s Brünnhilde, and that would be a true highlight of this generation’s Wagner fags’ lives. In other words, van den Heever’s voice remains fully feminine while engaging with a massive orchestra, while Davidsen’s becomes simply extraterrestrial. Van den Heever’s pinpoint tonal precision up in the stratosphere is also noteworthy, as is her ability to project chest tones that appear fully integrated with such an even column of sound. The role of the Empress is the longest of the opera, and here van den Heever’s stamina triumphs with room to spare. We have heard her sing Chrysothemis, Senta, and Elisabeth at the Met, which were predictable successes. But she has also surprised us with an endearing and florid Rodelinda, also at the Met, which rivals only Renee Fleming’s singular achievement in the role; and with a devastating Salome we saw in Paris, which she sang with the Herodias of the fearsome Karita Mattila, our last great Salome at the Met. Tell us because we don’t know anyone else who has Rodelinda and Salome in their repertoire, and then singing both in the same fucking year! That is unbelievable, and it shows the full capacity of her artistry. In the spring, van den Heever is scheduled to reprise her Salome here in New York, to yet another guaranteed triumph. We predict that by the end of that run, she will have utterly captured the house diva status at the Met alongside Lise Davidsen.

Sieglinde and I will see this opera a few more times in the next couple of weeks. Thank you, universe, for such a happy journey.

Grounded should be grounded

Tesori GROUNDED, Met Opera 23.IX.24; c. Nezet-Seguin; D'Angelo, Bliss, Dehn, Miller, Grimsley.

Likely the only time the word "Cinnabon" will be uttered from the Met stage, in an opera that is as saccharine and trite as a cinnabon roll. Composer Jeanine Tesori stumbled upon moments of interest but never held our attention for more than a minute. You'd think an opera about drones and war would elicit music of some novelty if not fractured horror. Instead we got a sweeepingly forgettable melodrama that mezzo-soprano Emily D'Angelo's brilliance could not rescue. The one silver lining of the Met's opening night, D'Angelo is indeed a revelation. Other than that, a sad waste of everyone's couture.

Met flex

A heady time for opera stoners these past few days, with the Met opening up single tickets to subscribers last Thursday and to the general public this coming Monday. Sieglinde chose to cut the line this year and put together a so-called "flex" subscription consisting of at least six operas. What's odd is that they have to be different operas. Someone please explain to me why I can't be a "flex" subscriber just by opting to go to each of the six performances of Die Frau ohne Schatten. Why are they discriminating against us? And who has this idea of going to just one evening of a work you absolutely can't live without? Who does that? The Met should be staffed with more opera fans.

So yes, the issue occupying our recent meditations was to choose six. Splendidly, this coming season is actually more thrilling than the last, which featured only Tannhäuser and La Forza del Destino amidst a bunch of reruns and B-sides. This season, we finally have the FroSch revival we've all been waiting for, and this spectacle alone surpasses many recent seasons. And with the astonishing Elza van den Heever as the Empress! We are complete. (Sieglinde will speak more about her eternal love affair with this opera later on.) So which five did she lump with FroSch to make a "flex"? Well, Salome, of course, again with dear Elza. Fidelio also makes the list, with the terrifying giant Lise Davidsen easing into her fated fach and the ageless René Pape whom we haven't seen at the Met since 2021. Tosca isn't normally a contender but this time, since La Davidsen is getting her Italian itch scratched before she unleashes her entire soul in Wagner, why not catch a couple of those too? I am genuinely curious about Aidanamar and Antony & Cleopatra, so there you have it, ostensibly Sieglinde's six-evening season. Shortly after "flexing", we dived back into the Met website to hoard multiple tickets to FroSch, Salome, and Fidelio--which, if you were paying attention, was the entire point of this charade.

We will go to other evenings, but those will be on a case by case basis and depend on many boring factors (work, life, meds, etc.). Plus, Sieglinde will travel for opera! She's been doing that the past couple of years, and will get to recount the blow-by-blow here in Her Diaries ... eventually.

To be true is half the battle

Kathleen Battle RECITAL, Met Opera 12.V.24; Bridget Kibbey (harp), Chico Pinheiro (guitar).

What a beautiful fiasco. Something Sieglinde will never forgive is amplification of any kind in an opera house. Here was Kathleen Battle, Diva, 76 this year but from the boxes looked very much like her posters for this headline spectacular; returning triumphantly to the Met stage in a solo recital, the stuff of Joe Volpe's nightmares; possessing even today top notes like she was 36, the stuff of Ailyn Perez's dreams. Sure, there was the Underground Railroad concert in 2016, but that was about more than her Highness, with a major choir and other musicians and artists (Cicely Tyson, Wynton Marsalis, Cyrus Chestnut ...) participating to convey an actual serious message. This evening, her event was about her alone, and the way she had everyone wait while she leafed through her three-ring binder of music forwards and backwards and sideways, and unclasped it flippantly to take out some random pages and return others would impress even Joe Volpe--OMG what a masterclass in Diva that Sieglinde should emulate in her Biochemistry classes. So Kathy's first song, a Purcell, tested her prep and while a bit tentative, was properly placed, I thought, and projected remarkably well. But then when the second piece, from Semele, unfolded with unexpected bravado, the amplification revealed itself by degrees and by the end of the first segment of song I would say even Kathy's aspirations between phrases were more present than Asmik Grigorian's fff the day before (see below). Who at the Met decided that this was OK, and how did the Diva not decipher this intervention as a defeat? Her top notes--it was all there!--would have floated around the auditorium without any aid and invoked awe, and would have reminded every ear about the singular miracle of this art form. And why would Sieglinde have minded leaning forward to catch any whispered notes, and if there are rumpled patches forgive and move on to the next glorious phrase? But by the second half of the program, while the entire auditorium erupted indecorously after every piece, the experience reduced in Sieglinde's senses to a mediated admiration, akin to watching a YouTube of a memorable event, speakers in full blast. This would have been the first time Sieglinde's heard Kathleen Battle live, but alas! Yet still, after hearing the expected "Sweet Low, Sweet Chariot" encore, everyone stood grateful to have heard lovely echoes, though receding in time and eluding what shards are left of tradition.

Matinee meh

Puccini MADAMA BUTTERFLY, Met Opera 11.V.24; c. Zhang; Grigorian, DeShong, Tetelman, Meachem.

Hopeful anticipation for Asmik Grigorian turned to mush as her Butterfly drooled the touchstone "Ah! m'ha scordata" in a supposed peak of Act II. Does she know that spinto means pushed, the Met is the largest house in the known universe, Sieglinde is perched in her high box with such hopeful anticipation for a soprano who is coming to New York with unusual advance notice, and therefore was expecting hints of blood and acid in "Ah! m'ha scordata"? No one expects a Renata Scotto, for sure, but can we have at least a Cristina Gallardo-Domas this generation? Sieglinde dreamed Grigorian would circle the pantheon (not the Pantheon), but instead saw her flap her cut, undecorative wings to zero effect, like used tissue swirling on the Columbus Avenue sidewalk. Maybe that's too mean. Grigorian did deliver a heartrending "Ei torna e m'ama", which her flappers avidly applauded. But those moments were, uhm, momentary.

So what happened? Everyone can agree that Grigorian has modest sonic power, but that issue never stopped Gallardo-Domas or Veronica Villaroel, two women dear to Sieglinde's heart, both of whom found ways to harness their wares full-force and focus their will to shake the walls. Grigorian also has an muddled middle, at times almost spoken and washed of vibrato. Other Butterflys of Sieglinde's 30 years of opera going include the legend Diana Soviero, femme fatale Catherine Malfitano, Michele Crider, and Particia Racette, ladies who, in their own way, gave the illusion of transcending physics and, in effect, reify the pathos of the role beyond the text. Grigorian sounded like she was saving her voice for something else. Such a soprano has no business singing Butterfly at the Met. Perhaps in smaller houses in Europe she will flourish.

Meanwhile, Maestra Xian Zhang (also debuting this season) led a tumultuous and vitally present orchesta; she should be invited for more. Jonathan Tetelman is handsome as Pinkerton, with a clean voice but lacking that unmistakable ring we've come to expect from our Puccini tenors. As a sorrowful Suzuki, Elizabeth DeShong is the one singer on stage who woke up Sieglinde.The Minghella is aging gracefully, but still aging.

(Just like old times; let's see how long this lasts.)

The Empress Reawakens

OK, since late 2022 Sieglinde's been to a few more spectacles for sure, some in opera houses she'd never visited before. How can she restart this baby amidst this thrilling gloom? But the fire hydrant of life continues to spew experiences, her impressions rushing down the drain, emulsifying in the gray soup. Posts from decades ago, here in this blog, relive traces of faces and sound. As she reawakens, she looks around and finds that some recent feelings are also worth encoding, for the time when all she will have are these words.