Domingo Provides a Steady Flame in the Met's Late-Sparking "Luisa Miller"

by David Wright

NEW YORK CLASSICAL REVIEW

Monday’s performance of Verdi’s Luisa Miller at the Metropolitan Opera began unpromisingly, with the lead singers sounding somewhat off in a disappointingly conventional score.

Three hours later, the opera was in high gear, barreling toward its catastrophic conclusion.

The difference between ho-hum and oh-my-God was due in part to the cast, who stopped fumbling for notes and forcing their tone and started realizing Verdi’s intentions in a big way. And also to Verdi himself, who seemed to transform between acts from a purveyor of set pieces and cabalettas into a music dramatist ready to rival Wagner.

It’s customary to classify Luisa Miller as a transitional work between Verdi’s early, Rossini-influenced operas and the great repertoire staples from his “middle period.” What the analysts don’t usually point out is that the process happens audibly within the work itself. By Act III, the old stop-the-action-for-the-aria model has yielded to a far more organic growth of music from action and vice versa, as the opera barrels toward its catastrophic conclusion.

Whether for that reason or some other, the singers found their vocal footing as the performance unfolded. Verdi had put the title role in the catbird seat, revising (reluctantly) another soprano role out of the libretto and leaving Luisa surrounded with dark-voiced singers—a mezzo soprano, baritone and two basses in the other main roles.

In the early going Sonya Yoncheva didn’t exploit that advantage very well. The staccato and embellishments of her first avowal of love (“Lo vidi, e’l primo palpito”) sounded labored, and her high notes tended to spread and squawk. By the third act, however, Yoncheva’s singing had improved greatly on both those fronts, and she was giving full-throated expression to her character’s tragic circumstances.

And speaking of full-throated, in the other role of the opera’s potent father-daughter combination was a singer old enough to be Yoncheva’s grandfather. Although uncertainty surrounds Plácido Domingo’s age—he admits to 77—there was nothing uncertain about his vocalism, or his forceful stage presence, in the role of Miller. Having dominated the tenor repertoire for decades, Domingo seemed bent on putting baritones out of work as well.

Now relying mainly on oral resonance, Domingo’s voice wasn’t the biggest in the room–conductor Bertrand de Billy restrained the orchestra a bit when he was singing–but for force of personality and his affecting portrayal of a proud old veteran and doting dad, the superannuated superstar was the class of the night.

At first, tenor Piotr Beczała brought some vocal uncertainty and pinched high notes to the role of Rodolfo, son of the usurping Count Walter and Luisa’s true love. That ship got righted too, and his Act II aria “Quando le sere al placido” was every bit the show-stopper Verdi must have known it would be.

In his twisted way, Count Walter is as concerned for his son’s well-being as Miller is for Luisa’s—well-being defined as “marrying up” to the rich widow Duchess Federica instead of his girl in the village. In the early scenes Monday, Alexander Vinogradov seemed to be pushing his roomy bass voice, but when he backed off a little vocally he was able to round out the villainous Count with some Macbeth-like fear and remorse at having murdered his way to the top.

A cooler brand of villainy was practiced by the Count’s retainer Wurm—yes, the name means what it sounds like in German—who, in bass Dmitry Belosselskiy’s clear-voiced portrayal, was chillingly implacable in his pursuit of a single goal: Luisa. He offered the girl the choice between renouncing Rodolfo and marrying him, or her father’s death in prison, as if it were a simple business proposition.

Although Verdi and librettist Salvadore Cammarano seemed to have included Federica mainly to advance the plot, mezzo-soprano Olesya Petrova brought sympathy to the sketchy role, reminding Rodolfo of their childhood friendship in warm, creamy tones.

The small cast was rounded out by the strong, pleasing voices of soprano Rihab Chaieb as Laura, a girl from the village who befriends Luisa, and tenor Patrick Miller as a peasant assisting Rodolfo.

Like most of the cast (except the reliable Domingo), the orchestra under conductor de Billy performed less than its best in Act I, but the rippling clarinets sounded divine under Rodolfo’s great Act II aria, and the flutes and piccolo so essential to the Verdi sound twittered or soothed effectively all evening. The orchestra also gave a good account of the opera’s striking overture, almost Schubertian in its shapely theme and smart development.

Visually, Elijah Moshinsky’s production was a mélange, apparently keeping the medieval Tyrolean sets from earlier productions while updating the costumes to the 1840s (Verdi’s own period) and changing the location to England (whose peerage includes dukes and earls, but no counts). Perhaps set and costume designer Santo Loquasto could have come up with something besides baronial attire for Rodolfo to wear while wooing Luisa incognito in the village. No wonder daddy sensed something was up.

Luisa Miller: An Unquestioned Triumph for Yoncheva and Beczala

by Santosh Venkataraman

OPERA WIRE

“Luisa Miller” is long considered to mark the beginning of Verdi’s “middle period” with themes of class division and an ill-fated romance that foreshadow the composer’s brilliant “La Traviata.” It also came at a time when Verdi was more open to sourcing from outside of his homeland, with the German playwright Friedrich von Schiller’s Kabale und Liebe the material for this work.

The Metropolitan Opera revived a production by Elijah Moshinsky last seen 12 years ago after a 2001 New York debut. This opera requires a powerhouse soprano and tenor combination, and that’s exactly what was on display with Sonya Yoncheva in her role debut as Luisa Miller and Piotr Beczala as Rodolfo in an absolutely glorious opening night.

Among the six operas I have seen in person this season at the Met, this “Luisa Miller” was the best outside of only the supernatural “Parsifal.” This was unexpected since it is somewhat of an overlooked work and because the Moshinsky production is an old war horse with a setting in England that doesn’t bring much to the table. Yet the voices reigned supreme thanks to Yoncheva and Beczala handling the demands of their roles with considerable grace.

Triumphant Under Duress

“Still under the adrenaline after an extraordinary opening night. Probably the most demanding role I have sung, but also the most satisfying. Plácido, Piotr, Olya, Sasha, Dima and Bertrand were exceptional! Viva Verdi! Bravo Met Opera Chorus&Orchestra,” the soprano said in a Tweet.

This message from the Bulgarian soprano after opening night says it all. The vocal demands of Luisa Miller are as intense as any and can be felt in the audience. The ups and downs of the music are difficult to navigate and one can only marvel at how the inimitable Montserrat Caballe performed as Luisa nine times during her Met run in 1968 opposite Richard Tucker’s Rodolfo.

The only evidence of Yoncheva’s high notes showing any strain were in her “Lo vido, e’l primo palpito” in Act one, in which she states that she has met the man of her dreams. The truth is that this aria so close to the start of the performance is written in a way that it is nearly impossible for anyone to pull off.

The rest of her night featured simply spectacular singing. After some tremendous ensemble work near the end of Act one, Yoncheva really delved into the depths of her character in the second act – titled “Kabale or Intrigue” – while simultaneously finding her vocal stride. It is here where she learns that her father has been arrested. Yoncheva displays the shock upon the news and showcases the pain that she is enduring in heart-wrenching fashion.

Yoncheva’s “Tu puniscimi, o Signore” sounded much more fluid and natural in person than in the dress rehearsal clip on the Met’s YouTube channel. Her Luisa has to make the decision to betray Rodolfo and marry Wurm instead in order to save her father, and the conflicted soprano was masterful. It’s no wonder that Yoncheva couldn’t sleep after this opening night.

Bringing Back Memories

There’s a humorous exchange in the Met program in which Beczala jokes with the great Plácido Domingo about wearing his costumes for this opera with Domingo responding that this production is an entirely different one.

One of the headlines for this revival was Domingo marking his 149th operatic role as Miller, the father who defends the honor of his daughter. He had to enjoy sharing the stage with Beczala, who was the vocal equal of Yoncheva on this night.

The Polish tenor received the biggest ovation of this performance with his “Quando le sere al placido” in which he laments the betrayal of Luisa. It was a stunning rendition that showcased his extreme pathos as he glided through the passage with his deep and rich tone; it was as if Beczala was the only person present in the entire opera house for this show stopper and he continued to triumph throughout.

Poison Was the Passion For the Soul

Perhaps the genius of this opera lies in the Act three titled “Poison.” The two lovers both drink the poison that leads to their death as the drama intensifies to its thrilling conclusion.

With the action even more intense, Beczala somehow made his presence even larger. And it was not through singing that was more histrionic but rather with an evenness that exuded his passion and despair.

The duets with Yoncheva in “Piangi, piangi il tuo dolore” and “Donna, per noi terrible” brought this story to an incredible climax and left the audience on the edge of its seats. The tragedy is unfolding in horrifying circumstances and the lovers are both united and separate at the same time, with Yoncheva’s lighter tone an ideal contrast to the darkness of Beczala.

Fatherly Touch

It should be noted that the great Domingo is still listed in the program as a tenor and correctly so. He is an eternal tenor, even as he continues to take on baritone roles that can do nothing to diminish his tremendous legacy.

What is nice about the character of Miller is that it’s in between a comprimario and starring role. While it would be terrific to have a true baritone portraying Miller, Domingo brings tremendous charisma as a performer and a whiff of nostalgia just by being on stage.

Yoncheva was the star vocally of their Act three duet in “La tomba e un letto sparso di fiori” in which she considers taking her own life. Yet Domingo’s fatherly presence was considerable as he consoles her with his “Ah! Nella tomba che schiuder vuoi fia primo a scendere il genitor!” on how it is appropriate for a parent to die before his child. It seems unlikely that a younger man could have pulled off this scene so effectively.

The conductor Bertrand de Billy was superb at allowing the artists on stage to shine and his orchestra never took away from the extraordinary performances we were witnessing.

If there’s a reason why “Luisa Miller” isn’t performed more often beyond needing singers the caliber of Yoncheva and Beczala as the stars, it’s that this work can sometimes drag – particularly through Act three. No such worries exist with these singers in a run that will be an indelible memory for those fortunate to be present. This production figures to only get better over its duration.

Plácido Domingo Takes On a New Role at the Met Opera. (His 149th.)

by ZACHARY WOOLFE

THE NEW YORK TIMES

NYT Critic’s Pick

Plácido Domingo is, depending on the source you consult, on one or the other side of 80. Let that sink in.

And now let this: On Thursday he sang, for the first time, the father of the title character in Verdi’s “Luisa Miller” at the Metropolitan Opera. He says that Miller is the 149th new role of his career.

Placido Domiingo ✔@PlacidoDomingo

Tonight God willing I’ll be making my 149th career role debut on the stage of @MetOpera as Miller in Giuseppe Verdi’s masterpiece “Luisa Miller “ with amazing colleagues @sonyayoncheva Piotr Beczala, Olesya Petrova, Alexander Vinogradov, Dmitry Belosselskiy.

How did we get to this astonishing spectacle? Around the year 2000, it was assumed that Mr. Domingo, one of the great tenors of the 20th century, would do what generations of opera singers had done before him. Seemingly at the tail end of a brilliant 40-year career, he would recede with dignity.

We thought that Mr. Domingo, then a bit over 60, would do concerts. He’d conduct. He’d run opera companies and found young singer competitions. He’d keep busy but he’d gradually retire.

Was it ego? A philanthropic impulse toward the struggling opera companies he knew he could help at the box office? Indomitable curiosity? A feeling he still had something to say on stage?

Whatever the combination of all the above, Mr. Domingo didn’t stop. Having naturally lost flexibility in his high notes, and no longer able to convincingly portray boyish lovers, he moved into the baritone repertory, specifically the brooding patriarchs of Verdi: Simon Boccanegra, Nabucco, Rigoletto, Germont in “La Traviata.”

And now, at the Met through April 21, Miller in the underrated “Luisa Miller,” a relative rarity but passionate and full of arresting experiments in structure and sonority, a gateway to Verdi’s breakthrough works of the early 1850s (“Rigoletto,” “Il Trovatore,” “Traviata”). The Met hasn’t put on “Luisa” in over a decade — and not this excitingly since well before that.

What Mr. Domingo is doing is not atypical. It’s unprecedented in opera history. For him to be even credibly appearing in leading parts on the world’s major stages, and adding new ones each year, is as if Roger Federer, today already an ancient champion at 36, were still winning Wimbledon a decade from now.

Mr. Domingo’s baritonal period hasn’t been conflict-free; he’s been dogged by polite suggestions and outright calls to give it all up. But he has turned out not to be experimenting or dabbling. It’s been over 10 years. And there remain things to be skeptical about.

Large swaths of his voice are still uncannily preserved, but the low part crucial to a baritone’s range tends to grow vague for him. And in fast music, that part in particular turns blustery and cloudy, making Mr. Domingo sound awkward in, for example, Miller’s big cabaletta, “Ah! fu giusto,” which should be an early showstopper.

At the start of the finale to the first act, Miller — a sturdy retired soldier whose country-girl daughter tragically seeks to marry above her station — indignantly says that an innocent like Luisa shouldn’t have to bow before a powerful man, but only before God. The steadiness and magnetism of this line are key to establishing the opera’s stakes — so those stakes suffer a bit when Miller delivers it, as Mr. Domingo did, without evenness or glamour.

But on Thursday, he eventually warmed and settled, his voice taking on increased presence if not ideally hale glow. “Luisa Miller” plays on one of Verdi’s favorite themes: the conflict between romantic and filial love — or, depending on how you look at it, between romantic love and filial obsession.

Mr. Domingo brings out a father’s concern and pain more than his obsession. He is a straightforward singer, as he always has been, with straightforward feelings. His relationship with Luisa doesn’t have much complexity, but it has earnestness and poignancy.

His voice sounds healthy; he moves with fluency. If he’ll never be a true Verdi baritone, and always an aging tenor in baritone’s clothing, it is still a display not to be missed: someone of Mr. Domingo’s stage of life taking on a new Verdi role at a great opera house and doing himself no small degree of honor with it. You almost don’t believe your eyes or ears.

That this implausible achievement isn’t this revival’s main attraction speaks to the quality of the performance. Sonya Yoncheva, also new to her role, seems more comfortable as Luisa than she did as Tosca at the Met this winter. The clear, smoothly slicing quality of her soprano makes special impact in this opera, in which Luisa stands out in a field of dark male voices.

Ms. Yoncheva has imagined the character as less innocent than spunky and sensual. When her lover, Rodolfo, enters to kill her in the final act — she’s trapped in a lie of betrayal that she thinks will save her father — she seems unsurprised, as if she’d expected him to come: There is always a sense of fatalism, of death calmly awaited, in Ms. Yoncheva’s portrayals.

Piotr Beczala, in yet another role debut, gave the rash Rodolfo his trademark poise and elegance. There’s little traditional Italian-tenor wildness in Mr. Beczala (for that, check out Vittorio Grigolo, at the Met in “Lucia di Lammermoor”) but he brings ample heat as the plot thickens.

The bass Alexander Vingradov made a fine Met debut as Count Walter, Rodolfo’s father, sonorously and suavely balancing this intriguing character’s combination of sympathy and violence. (Think Claudius in “Hamlet.”) In one of Verdi’s ingenious inventions, he combined beautifully in a rare bass-bass duet with Dmitry Belosselskiy, imposingly oily as the malevolent Wurm.

The warm-toned mezzo-soprano Olesya Petrova (as Federica, the noblewoman who loves Rodolfo) meets her role’s most important requirement: She strides commandingly down the gigantic staircase of Santo Loquasto’s sturdily old-fashioned set. Rihab Chaieb sounded fresh and youthful as the village girl Laura.

Leading a spirited performance, the conductor Bertrand de Billy was a replacement for James Levine, fired by the Met last month amid accusations of sexual misconduct. This revival was to have been a special reunion: Mr. Domingo and Mr. Levine’s first collaboration here was “Luisa Miller” in 1971. (Mr. Domingo, back then, sang Rodolfo.)

As it happened, this tenor-improbably-turned-baritone was forced to return to the opera on his own. He did it in memorable style.

Love and death at the Met in rarely performed Verdi gem

by Barry Bassis

THE EPOCH TIMES

Plácido Domingo as Miller and Sonya Yoncheva in the title role of Verdi's "Luisa Miller," a story focusing on two fathers and their children. (Chris Lee / The Metropolitan Opera)

NEW YORK—Giuseppe Verdi’s “Luisa Miller” is being revived with a starry cast, with Plácido Domingo as Miller, Sonya Yoncheva as the title character, and Piotr Beczala as her lover Rodolfo.

The opera, which premiered in 1849, is adapted from Friedrich von Schiller’s play “Kabale und Liebe” (“Intrigue and Love”). The composer and his librettist Salvadore Cammarano dropped much of the intrigue and concentrated on the story of doomed love.

Although the opera, Verdi’s 15th, is engrossing from start to finish, with solo arias, duets including wrenching ones between a father and daughter, trios, and quartets, it is not performed very often. This production by Elijah Moshinsky has not been presented at the Met since 2006.

The Plot

The opera takes place in the Tyrolean Alps. Luisa is being romanced by a young man she thinks is a commoner. (This is a common device in operas, such as Verdi’s “Rigoletto” and Gioachino Rossini’s “Barber of Seville.” As in the TV series “The Americans,” it seems strange that no one around town sees through the disguise.)

The young man is actually Rodolfo, the son of the local count named Walter. Luisa’s father, Miller, has doubts about the suitor. His suspicions are confirmed when the villainous Wurm, the count’s retainer who wants the girl for himself, blows the whistle on the masquerader.

Meanwhile, back at the castle, Count Walter has arranged for his son to marry a widowed duchess, Federica. Rodolfo has known her since childhood but has no romantic feelings for her. When the count informs his son about the plans he had made, Rodolfo rejects them and reveals his love for Luisa.

The old man is furious and has Luisa and Miller arrested. Rodolfo secures their release by threatening to reveal the family secret: Walter and Wurm murdered their royal cousin, a fact Rodolfo had learned from the dying man. (Walter later claims that he committed the crime so that his son would have a higher station in life.)

By the start of Act 2, Miller is back in prison for insulting the count and faces a death sentence. Wurm convinces Luisa that the only way to save her father is to write a letter saying that she acted as a gold digger to gain Rodolfo’s affections and that she really loves Wurm. As part of the charade, she goes to the castle to convince Federica of the veracity of the letter. Count Walter and Wurm show the document to Rodolfo and talk him into agreeing to marry the duchess to get even with Luisa.

When Act 3 begins, Luisa and Miller, now released from prison, plan to move away from the village. The despondent Rodolfo enters and drinks poison, after which he tricks the young woman into doing the same. After he informs her that she is dying, she reveals that the letter is phony and that he is her true love. Before expiring, Rodolfo manages to stab Wurm to death.

Thus, the opera ends with the two despondent fathers, Miller and Count Walter, surviving.

The Performance

The phenomenal Plácido Domingo plays the old soldier Miller. Now 77, the former tenor who used to appear as Rodolfo is now working his way through Verdi’s baritone roles. His voice is still powerful and his tone firm, and he continues to command the stage even if he doesn’t sound like a true Verdi baritone.

After tackling Giacomo Puccini’s “Tosca” and “La Bohème,” Sonya Yoncheva is portraying her third lead role of the Met season as Luisa. A true singing actress, she proves that she is equally at home with Verdi. Her rendition of Luisa’s “Tu puniscimi, O Signore” was exquisite.

The biggest ovation of the evening went to tenor Piotr Beczala when he sang the most famous aria in the opera, “Quando le sere al placido.” He is one of the world’s finest tenors and deserves to be better known by the general public.

The two basses, Alexander Vinogradov and Dmitry Belosselskiy, were effective as the villains Count Walter and Wurm, respectively.

While the set by Santo Loquasto did not evoke applause, it actually depicts the scenes the composer and librettist had in mind (unlike the recent Las Vegas “Rigoletto” and the Coney Island “Così fan tutte”).

Bertrand de Billy, stepping in for James Levine as conductor, led a graceful performance.

“Luisa Miller” may be second-rung Verdi but, as the cheering audience confirmed, it’s one that opera lovers should not miss.