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Doctor Atomic

Sun, 2 Jan 2011 23:02:04 +0000

DVD Review
Alicia M. Doyle
Notes, Volume 66, Number 3, March 2010, pp. 628-629 (Review) Published by Music Library Association
DOI: 10.1353/not.0.0308
This live recording of John Adams’s Doctor Atomic as performed at Het Muziek- theater, Amsterdam in June of 2007, is available from Opus Arte (2009) in Blu-ray (1080i High Definition 16:9 BD50, with 2.0 and 5.1 Dolby Digital audio). Recorded in high definition video and true surround sound, the advanced technology allows the director the capability of making one of the largest moral dilemmas in United States history feel personal on every level.
Visually, Peter Sellars optimizes the potential for extreme realism through advanced technology by incorporating many camera angles, some of which are quite daring. Musically, every sonic nuance of Adams’s score is clearly audible. Combined, the high definition video and audio quality result in many instances where the viewer is virtually brought into the room with the characters, witnessing the moral tension from beginning to end as if we were truly there. For example, during Oppenheimer’s aria in Act I, Scene 3, “Feelings of heat and cold, pleasure and pain,” the camera allows the viewer to feel like a guest in a salon, and the aria takes on the tone of a lied. During Wilson’s humanitarian plea to warn the Japanese before bombing during his aria, “No. Before the bomb is used Japan must have some warning,” has the effect of convincing us into believing he is actually speaking our behalf. Another amazing moment only made possible by the filming is in Act II, Scene 1 when in Kitty’s aria at the words “Night of the soul, our dreams in the arms of dreams dissolving into eyes that look upon us,” Jessica Rivera turns to “us,” and with the fourth wall missing, she seems to actually dissolve into our omnipresent (voyeuristic?) eyes.
Periodically the very thing that makes this recording great—the quality of the picture—causes distraction. In high definition you can see everything: makeup, an unruly eyebrow, the perspiration of a dancer after a particularly vigorous scene, a dangling earpiece, Oppenheimer’s electronic cigarette (no ash!), and various other characteristics of face and body that are not typically seen in such great detail. The precision of the image forces attention to certain cosmetic details like Gerald Finley’s blue contact lenses. (Oppenheimer was known for his blue eyes, and Finley’s, apparently, are not blue.) Product placement also was a small distraction in the final scene where several nervous eaters were walking about with large Hershey chocolate bars, calling to mind John Hersey’s Hiroshima, but perhaps that was intended.
The historical accuracy of the sets and James F. Ingalls’s lighting are absolutely stunning. Peter Sellars’s research shows that his sets imitated certain aspects of the site exactly including the tent around the bomb, down to the drawn curtain. The acting, singing and instrumental performance are remarkable, and because of the HD, quite exposed! Despite a few moments that are awkward film-wise—the scene before Groves’s diet diary aria when Oppenheimer and Groves cross the stage is lumbering, and the orchestral interlude: “Lightning in the Sangre de Cristos” in Act II after Kitty goes to sleep seem too drawn out on film— the staged version translates nicely to film.
The extra features (illustrated synopsis, cast gallery, mini documentaries about the opera, cast, composer, and director) and the interview with Peter Sellars are also a fascinating watch. Of particular interest in the mini documentaries is a behind the scenes glimpse of the amazing and complex camera set up which is extraordinary. Sung in English, subtitles are available in English, French, German, Spanish, Italian and Dutch.
So the question is this: Does Blu-ray make it better? The answer is yes . . . and no. The sound and image quality are off the charts, but once in a while (for the image in particular), this can be too much of a good thing.

Amor, Vida de Mi Vida

Thu, 25 Nov 2010 15:23:55 +0000

DVD Review
Alicia M. Doyle
Notes, Volume 66, Number 3, March 2010, p. 646 (Review) Published by Music Library Association
DOI: 10.1353/not.0.0332
This DVD is a live recording of works performed during two nights at the Salzburger Festpiele (Großes Festpielhaus) in August, 2007. Packaged as a collection of excerpts from zarzuelas, the performance features Plácido Domingo (tenor), Ana María Martínez (soprano), and the Mozarteum Orchester Salzburg under the baton of Jesús López-Cobos.
Born in Spain to parents who made a career in zarzuela performance, Plácido Domingo moved with his family as a child to Mexico, where his parents had formed a zarzuela company. The works on this recording reflect his family’s heritage and business and are understandably sentimental. The repertory on the DVD is comprised of instrumental pieces, arias, and duets excerpted from twenty-one works, most of which are truly zarzuelas (The jota from Manuel de Falla’s ballet El sombrero de tres picos, ¡Soleá! ¿Me llamabas, Rafaeliyo? from Manuel Pennella’s opera El gato montés, and “Lippen Schweigen” from Franz Léhar’s operetta Die lustige Witwe are the outsiders.) All but two of the works (those by the Cuban composer, Ernesto Lecuona and the Austro-Hungarian, Léhar) on the DVD are from Spanish composers.
Despite the fact that the zarzuela as a genre has its roots in Baroque Spain, no early works are represented in this particular recording. Drawn strictly from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, the earliest work on the DVD is “Al pensar en el dueño de mis amores,” from Ruperto Chapí ’s Las hijas del Zebedeo (1889), and the most recent work is “No puede ser” from Pablo Sorozábal’s La tabernera del puerto (1936).
The concerts were nicely but conventionally filmed and the venue is pleasant, if a bit on the ordinary side. Domingo and Ana María Martínez sing with a subtle Castilian accent, and the orchestra performs masterfully with López-Cobos at the helm. During the pieces that feature the singers, the cam- era stays mainly on the Domingo and/or Martinez, alternating shots of the audience at appropriate moments. During the instrumental works there is more variety in the camera angles, with the focus zooming in on the instruments that were perceived to be or particular importance in the moment. While interesting visually, this is acoustically unnerving, because when an instrument is featured, not only does the camera linger on the instrument/section, at the same time, the audio of that particular instrument is also momentarily amplified. This has the unfortunate side effect of throwing off the ensemble balance written into the composition.
Overall the DVD is an easy sell. All of the pieces selected are lushly scored, with a focus on melody, consistently dramatic, yet conservatively pleasant, harmonies, and a preponderance of dance rhythms. Additionally, the works have a common thread of “exotic” flair exhibited mainly by semistereotypical “folk” sounds (chromatic melodies, dance rhythms, and the use of castanets). Even the work by Lecuona is marked by recurring inclusion of Afro- Cuban percussion, and the Léhar is a waltz!
Watching the entire DVD in one sitting is perhaps not recommended as the works are all quite similar and saturation will come quickly. Waiting for the soloists to walk on and off the stage also becomes quite tedious when watching continuously. However, if you are looking for an excellent chapter or two of a video to introduce the zarzuela genre in a music appreciation course or some sort of event in which patrons with a love of music, but little music experience are being addressed, this video is ideal. The music is all extraordinarily approachable; there is no shortage of catchy melodies, toe-tapping dance rhythms, and several unmistakable references to the exotic (mostly) Spanish origins. The orchestra looks great, the close ups of the instrumentalists are wonderfully posed (one could even use the video to approach the subject of rotary valve trumpets!) and the close ups of the singers are at an appropriate angle so as to not be uncomfortable. Subtitles are available in German, English, French, and Spanish. This is definitely not a filmic production, but rather a television-style work, and for what it is, it delivers.

Plácido Domingo: My Greatest Roles

Thu, 25 Nov 2010 15:23:44 +0000

DVD Review
Alicia M. Doyle
Notes, Volume 67, Number 1, September 2010, p. 177 (Review) Published by Music Library Association
DOI: 10.1353/not.2010.0012
In this documentary, Plácido Domingo reflects upon what he considers to be the ten greatest operatic roles of his career. Directed by Chris Hunt, this documentary does much to endorse the fact that Domingo has consistently offered greatness to the public in his performances.
Despite unnecessarily hyperbolic statements such as “Plácido Domingo is simply the most important man alive in the world of opera,” the material presented in this film provides the means with which to successfully achieve a deeper understanding of Plácido Domingo as an extraordinary artist while witnessing highlights from his career.
In the eighty-minute film, fragments of interviews are woven together with filmed excerpts of his performances to create a history of his stage career. Although it is not meant to be comprehensive, it does remind the viewer of his incredibly rich and diverse experience beginning with his family’s involvement in zarzuela. Some of the ten selected roles seem to have been chosen for sentimental reasons (Carmen), and others for the sociological and psychological complexity of the character (Hoffmann), and still others for the technical challenges they presented (Lohengrin). The result is neither precious nor contrived but rather entirely believable and persuasive.
Domingo appears genuinely passionate about music, in an endearing and personal manner. He speaks to the camera as a close friend and the resulting intimacy makes his devotion realistic. Interviews with col- leagues reveal that he is remarkably adaptable to stage and screen and that while he comes to a production with a wealth of experience, he is not inflexible and is in fact quite respectful of the ideas of others.
Overall, the documentary material is not centered upon musical issues, but rather the characters he has portrayed. Clearly the film is geared towards the general opera lover. Subtle comments within reveal this bias including Zubin Mehta’s comment that Domingo is a “singing actor, an acting musician, a musician who is singing.” A less subtle comment comes in the voice over, wherein conducting is said to be “something few singers have the musicianship to even attempt.”
These somewhat unfortunate statements are easily forgiven however, as the ultimate result of the documentary is the experience of Domingo’s talent and love for music. On film he comes across as humble and charming. Well spoken and articulate, he manages to not appear arrogant but rather quite likeable, and yet extraordinary.
The filming is beautiful and the sound is high quality. The variety of theaters in which the excerpts were filmed provides a stunning visual context. The behind-the-scenes glimpses of him rehearsing, performing, and directing are valuable. Of particular interest is the footage and discussion about the live broadcast of the on location production of Tosca in July 1992. Learning about the fascinating challenges this live performance presented musically and technologically is worth the price of the DVD.
Each chapter after the introduction is devoted to an operatic role, and all of the excerpts have subtitles in English.

The Full Monteverdi

Thu, 25 Nov 2010 15:23:27 +0000

DVD Review
Alicia M. Doyle
Notes, Volume 65, Number 3, March 2009, pp. 552-553 (Review) Published by Music Library Association
DOI: 10.1353/not.0.0119
In this film, noted opera director John La Bouchardière, visually captures his interactive experiment in musical theater from 2004 in which the viewer witnesses the dramatic emotional experience of six couples simultaneously dealing with various issues of infidelity while communicating not in dialog, but in sung verse. In the live performance, the “audience” members are seated amongst the performers and are not given program notes. The proximity of the per- formers in a commonly understood environment (seated at a restaurant, for example) provides a physical and genuine experience perhaps greater than that of a standard performance space where the divi- sion between performer and listener is marked.
The film version captures this performance objective masterfully. The depiction of time is expanded over one night and into the next morning. As in the live ver- sion, there is absolutely no dialogue in the film, the narrative is entirely created in images and song through a complete performance of Monteverdi’s Il quarto libro de madrigali (1603) sung and acted by the vocal ensemble I Fagiolini. Of the couples dealing with the events, only one of each pair is a member of I Fagiolini; the other is absolutely silent.
Through scenes revealing the history of the couples, including a series of flashbacks, we come to know more about how each pair has arrived at the point of emotional despair. Accompanied by the music of Monteverdi, the viewer witnesses images of events that have ultimately led to this night. Adding to the passionate display, it is not entirely clear in every instance which of the lovers in each pair is actually the guilty party.
Throughout the film, La Bouchardière shows no consistent desire to portray the more subtle double meanings of the original texts, but focuses instead on the basic emotions involved in betrayal: disbelief, sadness, anger, regret, desperation, passion and rejection.
Some of the more blatant imagery is set purposefully. For example, in “Sì ch’io vorrei morire,” particular phrases including “Now as I kiss, love, the beautiful mouth of my beloved heart,” and “Ah, dear, sweet tongue,” Monteverdi’s setting of Maurizio Moro’s poetry is accompanied by images of two of the couples kissing. Poignantly, the line “Yes, I want to die” in the same madrigal is accompanied by what appears to be a momentary reconciliation at several of the lovers’ homes.
The reconciliation, however, is short lived as one partner in each of four of the pairs is seen leaving the home the next morning accompanied by Monteverdi’s setting of Guarini’s Anima dolorosa.
Momentary hopes that one of the couples might survive the romantic challenge are dismissed towards the end of the film, as the last couple of the six, is seen finally breaking up in Anima del cor mio along with continued scenes of the emotional devastation of the other five couples.
Musically, the performance by I Fagiolini (recorded in a studio and lip-synched in the film) is lovely and has some unusual interpretations, as dictated by filmic necessity. For example, Monteverdi’s setting of Guarini’s A un giro sol is portrayed as absolutely sarcastic and bitter during a scene in which the lovers accuse their partners of mocking their love. Never has the breeze laughing sounded so cruel (“Ride l’aria d’intorno”).
Surprisingly, the scene in which O’himè, se tanto amate was sung the performance was very fast, rushing past any depiction of the word painting by Monteverdi of Guarini’s loaded text.
In terms of the narrative structure, the absence of dialog is unproblematic, partially due to the visual cues and partially due to the fact that Monteverdi’s work al- ready contains nascent recitative. Monteverdi fans will not be disappointed.

Thy Kiss of a Divine Nature: The Contemporary Perotin

Thu, 11 Nov 2010 22:17:40 +0000

DVD Review
Alicia M. Doyle
Notes, Volume 63, Number 1, September 2006, pp. 164-166 (Review) Published by Music Library Association
DOI: 10.1353/not.2006.0085
Despite the fact that the Hilliard Ensemble is given top billing in the title, this really is not a performance DVD, but rather a more abstract film that addresses the way contemporary culture directly affects interpretation of Catholic dogma, art, architecture, and music. Director Uli Aumüller ties all of this together with one overarching thread: that performances of Pérotin historically have reflected the culture of the time of the performance and not the culture of the time of Pérotin. This unifying theme provides a creative springboard for Aumüller who presents a series of four separate narratives that are woven visually, au- rally, and philosophically. The resulting film is one in which the performance of Pérotin’s music clearly reflects the culture of the first years of the third millennium rather than the first years of the second.
Aumüller, in following the unifying theme makes little attempt to create any sort of authentic context for the performance of two-, three-, and four-part French Gothic polyphony. The filming does not take place in the cathedral of Notre Dame, as would be expected, but instead in a variety of locations including Lübeck, Laon, Troyes, Schleswig, Pfullingen, Notre Dame, and St. Denis. The music itself is however performed in an authentic manner.
The Hilliard Ensemble’s performance of eight French polyphonic pieces from the 12th and 13th centuries serves as the cantus firmus to Aumüller’s four-part narrative polyphony. The musical performances mostly take place in Lübeck, at the reconstructed St. Petri (the original building was
destroyed in 1942), where the starkness and simplicity of the architecture contrasts beautifully with the ornate nature of the sung polyphony. Aumüller mentions in one of his commentaries on the second disc that the stark background of this edifice allows more imaginative freedom on the part of the listener as there is no visual ornament, but rather a blank canvas upon which the best decorator—the imagination, is provided the freedom to create. Despite the historically inaccurate performing venue, the musical performance of the Hilliard Ensemble is consistently impressive. Rhythmic animation drives their interpretation of the music, resulting in a lively, directional performance. This style of performance is of course representative of cur- rent musicological thought—that the music of the Ars Antiqua was a bit more animated, or “ecstatic” as mentioned in the film, rather than lugubrious and drawn out as was the performance norm for most of the 20th century.
The second “voice” is a series of scenes from a heated scholarly symposium where historians of various disciplines discuss Pérotin and issues surrounding the culture in which his music was created. In this choreographed sequence of events, a mood of narrative tension is created through the presentation of intellectual prizefighting with the scholars constantly interrupting each other and promoting their own disparate viewpoints. The physical arrangement of the event is curiously in the choir of the cathedral, with the speaker standing in the center, between the two choir stalls. At moments of controversial discourse, the seated listeners pound on the wood of the individual choir stalls voicing their support or dissent. Who said musicology wasn’t a spectator sport?
Informal, almost voyeuristic snippets of seemingly spontaneous conversation define the third narrative voice in the texture. The symposium scholars, as well as the choreographer Hans Kresnik and the two dancers, are “caught” discussing the issues of culture and performance while engaged in activities like grocery shopping, strolling through scenic landscapes or the halls of gothic cathedrals, and in backstage preparation.
Lastly, a series of collaborations between historian Martin Burckhardt and choreographer Kresnik are added. The two invent situations in which Pérotin’s music, biblical texts, and various two-dimensional graphic depictions of the Virgin are subjected to interpretation. Beyond the inauthentic addition of interpretive dance, many of the images curiously are often not of the Gothic era but rather the Renaissance. Overall, this sequence of events has the result of providing shock value, with “colorful” (to be diplomatic) dialogue between the dancers, the choreographer and Burckhardt, and many scenes of the dancers in the nude.
Each of the four separate narrative approaches play off each other in a very intriguing, albeit not truly informative matter. The information medieval scholars thrive on: manuscript names and dates, folio numbers, indications of rhythm and pitch, paleographic issues, comparison of the same work in different sources, etc., are not included. Also unfortunate is the awkward translations into English in the informational booklet and the subtitles which are often imprecise and misleading.
The packaging of the DVD, like Pérotin’s organum quadruplum and the four narrative threads of the film, is in a quartych form. Upon unfolding the outer leaves of the packaging, a twenty-page informational booklet, two DVDs and a “bonus” audio CD are revealed. The informational booklet (in English, German, and French) contains a brief description of Pérotin and his role in Western music history along with a discussion of the inspiration for the film. The DVD tracks are listed, starting with the thirty-three tracks (thirty-four with the credits) of the film, each of which are provided descriptive titles, clearly indicating which tracks are musical performances. The thirty-fourth track is the credits, but they roll over a performance of a two-part Benedicamus Domino and clearly belong to the filmic vision. At the end of the book- let the text of the eight works performed in the film are provided along with translations of the Latin text into English and German.
The first of the two DVDs, “Thy Kiss of a Divine Nature—The Contemporary Pérotin,” is the main event; the ninety-five minute film is in German with the option of English subtitles. The second DVD, also in German with the option of English subtitles, actually contains two separate films: “Perotinus Magnus—The Vision of a Film Project,” and “Who was Perotinus—Myth or History.” The first is a sixty-five minute work explaining, or at least commenting on, the main inspiration for the project and provides further information and understanding of the film through a series of behind-the-scenes segments and an interview with the director. The second film on this disc (again sixty-five minutes) is one in which the dialogue between two unseen persons is set to visual imagery from the film.
Also included on this disc is a “sound- track” of more than an hour’s worth of music from the film and a brief six minute “Making of” track which is worth viewing, at minimum to see how well the Hilliard Ensemble performs while being pulled back and forth across the floor on two rolling platforms. Scenes from the filming are also included as a track on the second disc, as is a series of still shots.
Finally, the true gem is uncovered, the audio CD. This collection of Ars Antiqua polyphony recorded by the Hilliard Ensemble is worth the price of the entire package. The CD contains seventy-five minutes of music. All of the singing is masterful, but what has remained in my consciousness is the amazing countertenor voice of David James.
The audio/visual quality is superior; the films are viewable with three audio track choices: PCM Stereo, Dolby Digital 5.1 ad DTS 5.1, and the audio CD is recorded in 2.0 stereo.
Again, this is not a documentary. If you are looking for a recreation of 12th and 13th century musical life at Notre Dame based on documentary evidence from primary sources and years of devoted study to the man and the music, this is not your DVD. If you are examining the culture of the early 21st century as witnessed through the interpretation of late 12th and early 13th century French liturgical polyphony, then this is your film.

welcome to all music review.com

Thu, 11 Nov 2010 22:09:28 +0000

an intro to what all music is about.

Mass in B minor, BWV 232

Thu, 6 May 2010 19:48:55 +0100

PROGRAM NOTES
75th Annual Los Angeles Bach Festival
Nov.2, 2008

Johann Sebastian Bach’s glorious Mass in B minor is an exceptional work in which the composer masterfully incorporates a wide variety of styles and techniques, in essence creating a musical survey that encompasses a diverse collection of aesthetics, as well as providing a comprehensive concluding chapter to his own life’s work.
The circumstances that surround the composition of the Mass in B minor by Johann Sebastian Bach (1685-1750) remain unclear, as we know of neither an occasion nor a commission. Additionally, there is no record of any performance of the complete work before 1750. Particularly known for not dating his manuscripts, the only solid information about the dating of Bach’s composition is that a Lutheran missa or “Short Mass” (a Kyrie and Gloria) was sent to the Duke of Saxony, Prince Friedrich August, in July of 1733 as a part of an application to the Court Kapelle (a title Bach did not receive). The Kyrie and Gloria from this short mass now form the first two sections of the Mass in B minor. Supporting evidence that the Credo and following material was composed and added after 1733 is found in the manuscript autograph, where the material from the Credo to the end is written on different paper from the first two sections and the handwriting is in a noticeably different style.
Bach’s understanding of the Roman Catholic Mass was based on years of studying and copying the Masses of others, as well as having composed four other “Short Masses” (BWV 233-236), all of which were composed in or after 1735. The study and composition of Catholic liturgical music had practical applications in terms of the demands of his position in Leipzig, as parts of the Latin Ordinary of the Mass (Kyrie, Gloria, Credo, Sanctus, Agnus dei) were occasionally used in a polyphonic setting as a part of the Lutheran services. For example, the Kyrie was played on the first Sunday of Advent, the Gloria at Christmas, and the Sanctus on the highest holidays. In fact, it is known that the Gloria from the Mass in B minor was re-used by Bach in his Latin work for Christmas Day, Gloria in excelsis Deo, BWV 191 (c.1743-46).
Scored for five voice parts and orchestra, the Mass in B minor was clearly not intended for the Roman Catholic service as it is not only massive, but the text does not follow the exact wording of the Mass Ordinary (in particular the Domine Deus and Sanctus) or follow the customary grouping in five sections. Bach’s setting does not lend itself to inclusion in the Protestant liturgy either. The piece then appears not to have been intended to be functional, but rather was conceived as an abstract and perhaps personal composition. The result is a monumental work that represents the culmination of his contributions to the body of sacred music.
Overall musical characteristics of the work include highly contrasting compositional styles and techniques. His finished work is an impressive structure, consisting of a total of twenty-seven movements divided into four sections. The work is symmetrical marked by recurring appearance of D major choruses with trumpets and drums, and a strikingly original tenor aria, Quoniam, at the very center.
Written in three distinct movements, the opening Kyrie is fairly unusual in that although it sets only six words, it is quite long. In this section, the two outer choral movements surround a duet for paired treble voices. The choral Kyrie I, in B minor, is characterized by fugal writing and contains a significant amount of chromaticism. Bach’s complicated melodic structure is counterbalanced by the simplicity of the text: Kyrie eleison. Also elaborately contrapuntal, the second movement, the Christe eleison, follows in D major. Kyrie II is a return to the bold and dense polyphonic style of the first chorus.
In the Gloria, Bach continued to demonstrate stylistic variety and careful calculation. The eight movements of the Gloria include four large-scale choruses (all in D major) interspersed with four equally large-scale solo movements. Each of the solo movements was written for one concertist of the 5-voiced choir, paired with an obbligato part represented singly by each family of instruments in the orchestra (strings, flutes, reeds, brass). Each of the solo movements has a distinct style, ranging from the highly Italianate Laudamus te to the polonaise-like Quoniam, which, as the center of entire Mass is made quite memorable by the unexpected use of the cor da caccia.
The second section, the Symbolum Nicenum is comprised of seven movements with the Crucifixus in the center. Reflecting Bach’s comprehensive and sometimes retrospective intent, the choruses of the Symbolum Nicenum (Nos. 12, 13, 19, 20) each contain extensive reference to Medieval chant melodies, while other movements, including the duet Et in unum is particularly reflective of Italian operatic coloratura. The Symbolum Nicenum closes with a tutti chorus in D major.
Bright and strident, the single-movement choral fourth section, Sanctus, is again in D major. The theme in the prelude of this section is based on a triplet motif that is in stark contrast to the lilting triple meter dance-like feel of the fugal Pleni sunt coeli. The Sanctus and the five movements in the next section were probably completed in 1748-49, however they are all re-workings of previous compositions. The final movement, Dona nobis pacem, is a reprise of the seventh movement, Gratias agimus tibi, both in D major. This conclusion in D major indicates that perhaps the title that has become associated with the work is not justified, as there are more than twice as many movements in D major as in B minor.
In a single work, the Mass in B minor exemplifies the “hardworking, serious and profound music” described in Bach’s obituary. This piece is truly a compendium of a lifetime’s study and devotional passion for sacred music and it clearly reflects a culmination of a life of technical mastery, creative genius, and religious inspiration.
-Alicia M. Doyle, Ph.D.