Reminder: Falstaff December 14
Dick Gunther
Hi all,
Some of us will be attending the Met in HD showing of Falstaff at the Century 20 Downtown Redwood City on Saturday, December 14, at 9:55 AM. Those who wish to can gather afterward across the street at Cafe la Tartine for coffee and/or lunch.
If you want to join us, please be at the ticket podium at the bottom of the escalator by 9:30, ticket in hand. If you need a ride, call me at 854-6620. If you respond to this reminder with either a call or an email, we'll wait for you prior to heading for our seats !
Here's a review of the recent San Francisco Opera version (which I saw; it'll be fun to compare):
'Falstaff' review: Strong cast follows potent lead
Joshua Kosman Published 3:42 pm, Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Again, with the obvious exception of the title character. Falstaff himself was played - nay, embodied - by the great bass-baritone Bryn Terfel, and he stood at the center of the proceedings, imbuing everything with theatrical and vocal fervor.
This was Terfel's first appearance with the company since 2000, and Tuesday's performance was a reminder of how much we've missed over those long years. His performance as the fat knight has everything that makes Falstaff irresistible - grandiose self-regard, improbable charisma and a vein of deep poignancy, all conveyed through singing of great power and flexibility.
And as Falstaff says of himself, Terfel was not only a great onstage wit but the cause of wit in others. His very presence seemed to spur his fellow performers to find both the buoyant humor and the rich emotional undercurrent in the piece.
"Falstaff," that miraculous final product of Verdi's career, bubbles over with all the fluency and expressive assurance of the composer's long mastery. The libretto by Arrigo Boito (whose own, vastly inferior "Mefistofele" just finished up a run at the War Memorial) deftly adapts Shakespeare - mostly "The Merry Wives of Windsor," with bits of "Henry IV" thrown in - to both the conventions of Italian opera and the personal gifts of the composer.
Abundant vitality
The San Francisco production, which opened just ahead of Verdi's 200th birthday (either Wednesday or Thursday - the documentation is vague), is new to the company.
It doesn't boast the zest or imagination of its predecessor, the unforgettable version by director-designer Jean-Pierre Ponnelle. Designer Frank Philipp Schlössmann's bare, wood-paneled set is fairly drab, and director Olivier Tambosi tends to choreograph the action a little stiffly - particularly during the final scene in Windsor Forest, where the moonlit shenanigans that cap Falstaff's comeuppance play out without much variety or life.
But there's enough vitality overall to keep things moving, and Music Director Nicola Luisotti's brisk, sometimes brusque, leadership keeps the performance at an apt fever pitch.
Yet much of the performance, appropriately enough, seemed to follow Terfel's lead - energetic where he was in full swing, calmly expressive when he turned rueful and reflective. He did a splendid turn during his Act 2 seduction of Alice Ford, done up from head to toe in hilariously gaudy red and singing with just enough sweetness of tone to hint at the seducer Falstaff must have been in his youth. The mini-aria "Quand'ero paggio" - a brief, perfectly shaped evocation of the character's "salad days" - was particularly fetching.
But Terfel's greatest moment came at the beginning of Act 3, after Falstaff's chill-inducing tumble into the Thames has made it clear that the entire world is against him. Over the space of a few minutes of music, Verdi lets you hear the warming effect of a glass of mulled wine on Falstaff's spirits, and Terfel's rejuvenation was a small miracle of transformation.
The rest of the large cast supported his efforts with nary a weak link. Soprano Ainhoa Arteta was a bright-toned, charming Alice Ford, bringing gaiety and responsiveness to Act 2 and to the various women's ensembles. Baritone Fabio Capitanucci, in his company debut as Ford, gave a recessive account of the Act 1 aria "È sogno? o realtÀ?" but he contributed his share of vitality to the larger scenes, especially in the last act.
Contralto a standout
For sheer vocal force, the evening's standout was contralto Meredith Arwady, whose performance as Dame Quickly boasted a remarkable combination of tonal heft and dramatic impact. Soprano Heidi Stober and tenor Francesco Demuro made a charming pair of young lovers, bringing grace and tonal luxuriance to their Act 3 clinch.
Completing the roster were Greg Fedderly and Andrea Silvestrelli - luxury casting, practically, as Falstaff's fellow reprobates Bardolfo and Pistola - Joel Sorensen as a funny Dr. Caius, and Adler Fellow Renée Rapier as Meg Page. Ian Robertson's Opera Chorus sang with lusty, finely honed vigor.
Here also is a NYT commentary on costuming for the Met production. Fascinating science!
What Becomes a Diva Most?
‘Falstaff’ Costumes: Designing opera costumes in an era of high-tech challenges.
CORINNA da FONSECA-WOLLHEIM By Published: November 27, 2013
Ms. Oropesa is singing the role of Nannetta in Robert Carsen’s new production of Verdi’s “Falstaff,” which opens at the Met on Friday with opulent 1950s costumes by Ms. Reiffenstuel. When the soprano Amanda Forsythe prepared for the part in the same production at the Royal Opera House in London last year, the veil had caused some problems at first: The material was so light that it clung to her mouth whenever she inhaled.
The whisper-thin veil is made of a polyester blend developed in Japan that is so delicate it has to be cut by a laser. Ms. Reiffenstuel declares it to be “the thinnest fabric in the world.” But pressed about its name, she shot out: “I don’t remember. But if I did, I wouldn’t tell you, because I don’t want other designers to use it.”
Ms. Reiffenstuel is in high demand as a costume designer at opera houses across Europe and the United States. At the Met, she has designed costumes for Verdi’s “Un Ballo in Maschera” and Handel’s “Giulio Cesare.” Her pride in her work — and her competitive bent — are not unusual in the field. But these days costume designers working for the Met have an additional reason to obsess over details: the “Live in HD” series with which the Met digitally delivers opera in high definition to movie theaters around the world.
Holding up a plastic ivy wreath, which had fixed Nannetta’s veil in place in London, Ms. Reiffenstuel said: “This was O.K. at the Royal Opera House, because we didn’t film there. But for HD, we need a more naturalistic wreath.” A double-stranded pearl necklace with a big brown Velcro closure was also declared unfit for the Met. “HD? Ha, ha,” Ms. Reiffenstuel said dryly. “We need to change that to magnets.”
High-definition cameras are only the latest challenge for members of the Met’s costume department. As it is, their work requires a combination of finely honed technical skills, a historian’s understanding of period costumes, and personalized attention to opera singers, their performance style and body hang-ups. At the same time, Met costumes have to be much more durable than regular clothes. Unlike couture fashion, these garments must last for many seasons — sometimes decades — and withstand rapid costume changes between scenes. In the past, that might have meant sturdier zippers and thicker hooks, but with cameras trained even on the backs of singers, the Met’s designers, drapers and seamstresses have had to become craftier.
“Now that there is so much HD, our clothes come under a lot more scrutiny,” said Regina Schuster, first draper and a member of the Met’s costume department for 28 years. I first met Ms. Schuster and her team in August, when she was beginning work on the muslin mock-ups of the costumes for the mezzo-soprano Stephanie Blythe, who will sing the role of Mistress Quickly. Mr. Carsen’s production sets “Falstaff” in England in the late 1950s, and Ms. Reiffenstuel’s costumes recreate the defined waists and proud busts of that period. On Ms. Schuster’s table were the designs and photographs of Mistress Quickly’s costume from the London run. The new cast of principals — only the Italian baritone Ambrogio Maestri returns to the title role at the Met — required a new set of costumes.
In building Ms. Blythe’s costumes for the Met, Ms. Schuster had a good deal of freedom to interpret Ms. Reiffenstuel’s designs. Mistress Quickly’s gown for the wedding scene in Act III now has an off-the-shoulder neckline because “that always looks good on Stephanie,” Ms. Schuster said.
“I did a lot of Dior research,” she added. “This will make her look a little saucy, which is what she wants. Cute and saucy. We know the singers really well. They have input, too.” In another scene, Mistress Quickly’s outfit is modeled on a photograph of Elizabeth II walking the grounds of Balmoral wearing tweed and Wellingtons.
Each of the four principal women has a signature style that expresses her character and her relationship to the other three. There is an important difference between designing costumes for historical movies and for opera. “Singers don’t get the part because they look right,” Ms. Reiffenstuel explained. “They get it because they can sing it. Our job is to make them look right, too.”
“Alice is the richest of all the women,” she continued, referring to one of the principals in “Falstaff.” “She is married to Mr. Ford, and in our production, they are just a little bit nouveau riche, so she has to be very chic and expensive looking.” Ms. Reiffenstuel turned the pages of her “bible,” a thick ledger crammed with drawings, photographs and fabric swatches related to each scene and each character.
The soprano Angela Meade will sing Alice dressed in monochrome satin dresses and fitted coats. For a scene inside Alice’s kitchen, Ms. Reiffenstuel went to great lengths to find a fabric that matched exactly the set’s yellow cupboards. “She’s the sort of person who would match her clothes to her home,” Ms. Reiffenstuel said.
Alice’s daughter, Nannetta, is her mother’s creature in this production. “She looks as if Mommy dressed her,” Ms. Reiffenstuel said. To show the relationship between the two, she has created costumes for Nannetta that pick up the color scheme of Alice’s clothes: “She is a pastel version of her mother, but with the colors reversed. Nannetta’s dress is like Alice’s coat and vice versa. So they connect.”
Mistress Quickly has a penchant for florals; the wealthy matron Meg Page favors geometric patterns. “We didn’t want her to be dowdy,” Ms. Reiffenstuel said of Meg, who will be sung by the mezzo-soprano Jennifer Johnson Cano. “She’s one of the girls. She definitely reads Vogue. And she’s a bit more cutting edge. She does geometric patterns.”
In October, I returned to the costume department and watched as Ms. Aragon build one of Meg’s dresses. The fabric features irregular brown stripes on blue; matching the stripes so that they continue uninterrupted from the skirt to the bodice took painstaking work. For the Met’s costumes, the drapers use a technique called flat lining, in which a fine layer of organza is added to the underside of garments. This gives the outer fabric more volume and allows it to be molded to a specific shape.
The other secret to achieving period-specific shapes is using the right underpinnings. For “Falstaff,” Ms. Reiffenstuel found a manufacturer of 1950s-style bras and corsets with well-defined, conical cups. The drapers at the Met know which singers like the support of a corset and which find it restrictive. They also need to know the director’s vision for each scene: If a character has to sit, the boning in the corset cannot extend too far down the torso.
At her own fitting, wearing the yellow dress and floral apron of her kitchen scene, Ms. Meade said her greatest concern about corsets was mobility. “I have to lie down with this and then get up again,” she said. “This is a very active production. As for the singing, the truth is that most of my breathing comes from below where the corset is, anyway.”
Back in the fitting room, Ms. Oropesa was admiring her side view in the mirror. She was now wearing a tomboyish combination of turquoise pedal pushers and an orange crocheted midriff top that shows off her tiny marathon runner’s waist. “These are not real, by the way,” she announced with an amused glance at her perky bust. She raised her eyebrows skeptically when she heard of the coral lipstick that was to complete her look, but on the whole, she seemed pleased. She practiced getting down on the floor, stretching out and coming up again. The pants might be more comfortable if they were a little shorter? Ms. Aragon, kneeling at her side, nodded through a mouth of pins.
“Right now I’m rehearsing in my street clothes, but when I wear these onstage, I’ll sit differently and walk differently,” Ms. Oropesa said. When Ms. Reiffenstuel announced that Nannetta’s shoes, too, would be dyed orange to match the crocheted top and the kitchen’s tablecloth, Ms. Oropesa’s face lit up. Is she ever tempted to take home some of the costumes or accessories?
“Oh, I beg them all the time,” she said cheerfully. “They say no.”
