REVIEW: Hänsel und Gretel

November 14th | 8:00 pm |Power Center For The Performing Arts

 

 

Is everyone on drugs in SMTD’s Hänsel und Gretel? That is a question I don’t know the answer to.

Director Gregory Keller brought an eccentric new take on the classic fairytale last weekend, one that was unanticipated by opera’s more familiar audiences. Traditionally, this story is pretty straightforward: young mischievous kids, absent parents, the candy house, the witch and the oven, the whole sha-bang. But Keller took everything up a notch—and academia seems like the right place to do that, right?

Mr. Keller has spent twenty-six seasons at a little place called The Metropolitan Opera in New York City, where he’s staged vibrant and thought-provoking revivals of some of opera’s most notable works. He’s eager to try new things, but is opera itself ready?

This charming opera was written by German composer Englebert Humperdinck with libretto by his sister, Adelheid Wette. His Wagnerian influence is clear in his richly textured orchestration and memorable, complex, and emotional melodies. His magical, atmospheric score lives in a lighthearted fairytale world, but make no mistake—it’s not an easy sing. This production showcased some of the Department of Voice & Opera’s finest talent.

The production took us back to the 1970s: trading in brooms for vacuums and the witch’s oven for an oversized microwave. The dramaturgy note mentioned their intention to mirror the political landscape of the 1970s to today, providing clearer context to the artistic choices made. Hänsel (Daiyao Zhong) and Gretel (Ingrid Kuribayashi) start the opera deprived of food in their home, parentless, and bored. When Mother and Father (a stunning Christina Parson & commanding Andrew Smith) return, they bring battles of their own: a quaaludes addiction and rampant alcoholism.

Hänsel & Gretel’s house, Scene I, Act I.

Ms. Kuribayashi and Ms. Zhong make a playful pair onstage, displaying vocal mastery over Humperdinck’s lush, folk-inspired melodies. They both portrayed a commitment to the fanciful youth of the music and had enjoyable presences onstage (along with stellar vocals). They both seemed to be pushed up an age bracket from the original story: Hänsel is sporting a mustache and smoking cigarettes while Gretel’s lively physicality makes me think she is within the realm of a frisky preteen. Perhaps the age shift brings accessibility to college-age audiences?

 

Ingrid Kuribayashi (left) and Spencer Vandellen.

Mother and Father’s chaos sends them into the woods, where they meet The Sandman (Madeline Surroweic), an Alice In Wonderland adjacent Caterpillar-like ghost who sends the children to sleep with a backpack of hotboxed smoke. The angels (who are supposed to protect the children while they sleep) are replaced with an entourage of leather jacket-wearing goons who send them up mysterious white stairs into the sky, ending Act I. I couldn’t exactly read what was going on— Were they ascending to heaven? Drugged by the Sandman? Part of some master plan orchestrated by The Witch?

They are awakened by the Dew Fairy (Anne-Marie Attanga, who sparkles vocally) in a brief and shimmering aria, right before the children realize they are outside the cottage of The Witch (Spencer Vandellen) decorated in colorful drag. This role was written for a mezzo voice but is also standard to be performed by tenors. Vandellen has a stellar upper range and navigates vocal passages with ease, without sacrificing an ounce of drama from the exuberant Witch.

Perhaps Keller’s unusual choices support deeper messaging regarding Hänsel and Gretel’s need to escape the demons of their own home: addiction-ridden parents, food deprivation, and an understated need to explore layered with teenage angst. All ambiguity aside, the eccentricity of the production kept me intrigued from start to finish.

I’m sure Keller’s nuanced take on this Brothers Grimm tale startled traditionalist opera-goers, but it seems academia is hungry to shake up this 400+-year-old art form, and I appreciate that. With or without drugs, I think it’s time for opera to embrace its hot takes from ambitious directors. Better sooner than later before opera is the next thing in the Witch’s oven.

 

 

Hänsel und Gretel runs November 14-17 at the Power Center for Performing Arts. Images thanks to @umichsmtd on Instagram.

REVIEW: “Duos” by Anda Jiang

November 5th, 2024 | 8:00pm | McIntosh Recital Hall

 

Election Day is not normally a day I opt to see a recital. Yet, on this particularly tense Tuesday, I dropped into violinist Anda Jiang’s “Duos” at The School of Music. I thought it an interesting theme for this uniquely divided day, and I wondered how it was relevant to the duality we’re facing in the United States currently.

Ms. Jiang programmed five pieces on her recital, all staples of the violin repertoire. The set began with an angsty Zoltán Kodály work, Duo for Violin and Cello, Op. 7 (1914). Jiang performed only the first movement, “Allegro serioso, non troppo with cellist counterpart, Lauren Matthews, a technically versatile player with a magnificent buttery sound. The two had a striking musical presence together and masterfully navigated abrupt tone shifts throughout the piece. Kodály knits beautiful melodies alongside overt messaging of tension—the duo is in harmony, and suddenly there’s friction. The piece was composed in 1914, during the brink of WWI in Kodály’s home country of Hungary. Perhaps this sonata contained a response to the growing tensions in the Austro-Hungarian Empire.

The program moved to an effortlessly expressive Schubert, his Fantasie in C Major (1827). Ms. Jiang performed four movements alongside the stunning Rena Wu on the piano. This piece is known to demand extraordinary technicality from both the pianist and the violinist, an ambitious repertoire choice that entirely paid off. Ms. Jiang’s sensitivity to the piece struck me—her ability to take charge with engaging string melodies while leaving adamant space for Schubert’s brilliant contrapuntal piano lines to shine through, especially in the second movement, “Allegretto”.

Anda Jiang and her mother, Lydia Qiu.

The penultimate set included Debussy’s La Fille aux Cheaveux de Lin (1910) and Beau Soir (1891)which recruited Lydia Qiu to the piano—hilariously noted on the program as (pianist, mother). This set of two tunes is characterized by sweeping nostalgia and colorful impressionistic sounds, a favorite performance of mine from the evening. In addition to the performing familial duo, Ms. Jiang mentioned that her father built the violin she plays on (how cool!), which houses a stunningly bright and shimmering sound.

Joining the closing piece was dynamic pianist Aleks Shameti, one of the recent winners of the 2024 SMTD Concerto Competition. The two performed one of César Franck’s most well-known compositions, all four movements of the Sonata for Violin and Piano. The piece contains beautiful cyclic themes, opting for a satisfying finish to the set. With an absolutely enchanting performance, I hear a duo full of harmony emotionally and melodically. Funny enough, Franck wrote this piece in 1886 as a wedding gift for the 28-year-old violinist Eugène Ysaÿe, which was premiered publicly with Ysaÿe and pianist Marie-Léontine Bordes-Pène, who performed it first at his wedding. I suppose unity was implied from the beginning.

This recital reminded me why we make music—to comment, to express, to find unity in our strange human experience. Duality exists naturally in life— marriages, disputes, families, and mere instrumentation. On a day like November 5th, the messaging of duality becomes more complex and cynical, when it doesn’t always have to be. I’m not sure if Anda Jiang’s “Duos” was intended to be political commentary or not, but regardless, she reminded me of the sheer power of harmony.

 

 

Images thanks to Anda Jiang.

REVIEW: London Philharmonic

Photos are provided by Peter Smith Photography

On October 18th, the London Philharmonic returned to Hill Auditorium after 13 years. The concert was especially thrilling for me, as it was my first time experiencing the London Philharmonic live. The repertoire, performed in order, included Britten’s Sinfonia de Requiem, Shostakovich’s Violin Concerto No. 1 in a minor, Tania León’s Raíces (Origins), and Sibelius’s Symphony No. 5 in E-flat Major.

I found it unusual that they chose to open with a requiem, given the somber, darker tones typically associated with such works. Yet Britten’s piece turned out to be grand in its own right, and I was surprised by how much I enjoyed listening to it. The quality of the music drew me in immediately, largely due to Edward Gardner’s conducting—I found my eyes fixed on him from the very beginning.

I consider the conductor to be the heart of an ensemble: the musicians move and breathe to the beat of the baton, and the phrasing of each lyrical line relies on the tiniest of gestures. A captivating conductor is vital to the quality of an orchestra’s performance, and Gardner’s skills truly shone, especially when every instrument joined in a musical passage. The contrasting dynamics filled the auditorium with a depth of sound that made me feel one with the Sinfonia de Requiem, despite being in the audience. 

Although I had never heard Shostakovich’s first violin concerto before, the eerie dissonant intervals and unsettling lack of vibrato in the opening unmistakably evoked his distinctive melancholic style. Once the second movement began, the intensity of the piece immediately shifted my attention to violin soloist Patricia Kopatchinskaja. The clean harmonics and intonation of her double stops were breathtaking. Furthermore, she preserved Shostakovich’s voice by weaving between the lack of vibrato characteristic of the first movement and the vibrato that expressed her own musicality.

London Philharmonic Orchestra performing with Edward Gardner and Patricia Kopatchinskaja in Hill Auditorium, October 18, 2024.

Like the preceding pieces, the introduction of Raíces was quieter and calm. What made it stand out from the rest of the program was the lively beat that picked up in the latter half; in this section, the woodwinds and brass melodies particularly shone, establishing themselves as the main characters of the piece.

Sibelius’s fifth symphony continued the trend of opening with a peaceful first movement, which made me hopeful for a triumphant ending to conclude the night. Instead of achieving an impactful ending by increasing the tempo, the last movement made its mark through the layering of instruments. The full volume of the brass rang beautifully through the hall, yet I could still hear the violins complimenting them with a gorgeous melody rich in luscious notes. The concluding measures were also unexpected; rather than maintaining that full sound, they transitioned into a series of single note chords played by the whole orchestra.

However, I must confess that for me the highlight of the concert was actually the encore: Variation IX, Adagio “Nimrod,” from Edward Elgar’s Enigma Variations. It was another calm piece, but rather than a somber sound, it featured sweet tones and a yearning melody that lingered with me long after the performance. It provided a perfect change of pace accompanied by a bittersweet emotion that proved to be more memorable than a loud and exciting ending.

REVIEW: Tales from the Realm of Pops

This semester’s Michigan Pops Orchestra concert, Tales from the Realm of Pops, has been my favorite concert of the past six I’ve attended. The theme this semester was fairytale and fantasy, and the repertoire was full of my personal favorites that are both famous in the classical world and familiar with most audiences: from Prokofiev’s Romeo and Juliet to The Legend of Zelda to Sleeping Beauty, the orchestra certainly took us on a magic carpet ride.

The first piece to capture my heart was Tchaikovsky’s notoriously hard Violin Concerto in D Major, Op. 35, performed by this year’s High School Concerto Competition winner Minji Kim, a Junior studying at Skyline High School. The past three High School Concerto Competition winners have all been violinists, but she’s left the biggest impression on me so far. The first movement of Tchaikovsky’s violin concerto, the Allegretto, features intense lyrical runs up and down the violin, which Minji nailed each time. What impressed me the most were her double stops. Double stops mean two notes are being played at the same; this requires the bow to be completely evenly balanced on the strings while the fingers are to be a precise distance apart. It’s very easy to be out of tune when playing double stops, especially while shifting, but Minji made it sound incredibly easy with her crystal-clear tone and perfect intonation. This was my first time listening to this concerto live, and it couldn’t have been any better.

Right after came one of the unarguably best orchestral works to ever exist: Scheherazade, Op. 35 by Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov. Pops played the third movement, The Young Prince and the Young PrincessJust like the title suggests, it’s an incredibly romantic movement that passes the melody between the strings and winds, as if they were lovers conversing. The lyrical line evokes so many feelings, such as yearning and passion before turning into playful flirting when the tempo picks up. I highly recommend listening to all of Scheherazade. It’s truly a piece that shows music can weave a colorful story and brings out the violin’s full potential during the many concertmaster solos, which Katie Zhao did an amazing job of.

I’m so glad I got to attend this concert despite being busy with finals and the coming end of the semester. It whisked me away from my stress and worries and was the best refuge I could get. I’m now all the more excited to come back to another Michigan Pops concert next year, and I wonder if they’ll be able to top this semester’s amazing collection.

REVIEW: Maestro

The long-awaited Leonard Bernstein biopic came to theaters on November 22nd. With an unmatched legacy in the classical music-sphere, Maestro offers us a unique look into the personal life of the first American-born composer to receive international acclaim. 

Director and lead Bradley Cooper led a gripping performance as the conductor extraordinaire, providing a rare glimpse into the world of the beloved American conductor. I was interested to see what parts of Bernstein’s life would be highlighted in the film, as he lived quite a vehement life, filled with passionate successes and seething controversy. With so many notable musical moments that Bernstein boasts, the movie is rather centered around his tumultuous marriage with actress Felicia Montealegre (Carey Mulligan) rather than much of his career work.

The film begins with a spritely 25-year-old “Lenny” (as he was often referred to) and progresses with early career successes until he meets Felicia at a house party in 1946. They marry in 1951 and the story uncovers the beauty and bitterness behind their marriage, alongside Lenny’s confusing journey with his sexuality. The story feels complete marriage-wise, but lots of questions about his queerness remain.

The movie presents Bernstein’s life as a constant performance. His inherent presentational-based occupation and obsession with the media seep their way into Lenny’s marriage. This is shown in the way he falls in love: with choreographed dance numbers and flirtatious rehearsals on stage with Felicia. As well as the lavish parties he throws later in life with famous patrons who are watching his every move. His romance with Felicia always remained public in this sense, while his relationships with men were consistently private. Additionally, this was an interesting way to highlight the oppressive culture surrounding queerness in the 20th century. One of my favorite aspects of the film was the contrast between the unmarried and married Lenny. This shift is shown in the cinematography, with a black and white filter over his life while he is falling in love with Felicia, and a shift to bright color into the later years of their marriage, when more problems come to life. 

The film did not necessarily showcase all the music he created or the specific legacy he desired, but it was a brilliantly crafted story that explored deeply into the musician’s marriage and sexuality. This movie is thoughtful and heartbreaking with overwhelming passion—much like the music Leonard Bernstein created himself. Maestro is in theaters for a limited time and is now available on Netflix. 

 

Bradley Cooper (left) and Carey Mulligan.

 

129 minutes. Rated R  for discreet nudity and a ton of cigarettes.

Image thanks to Movie Insider and Netflix.

REVIEW: Life on Planet Pops

On December 6, 2023, at the Michigan Theater, the Michigan Pops Orchestra presented “Life on Planet Pops.” I’ve been to every Pops concert since my freshman year, and I was especially excited for this one after seeing this semester’s poster that teased The Lion KingStar Wars (which they somehow manage to play every year), Princess and the Frog, and more. As the theme and poster suggest, all of the music they chose was related to animals, though there surprisingly wasn’t much classical repertoire. However, it was my favorite program out of all of the Pops concerts I’ve seen.

They opened with a medley of Beauty and the Beast and they sounded exactly like the soundtrack of it on Spotify. I loved the concertmaster’s solo so much it gave me goosebumps, and once the melody of Tale as Old as Time played, the strings all together really shined. The song they chose from Princess and the Frog was “Almost There” with a guest student singer from SMTD, and she was very talented. I loved how she opened with dialogue that transitioned into song and that she maintained her character’s cheerful flare throughout the performance.

After a brief intermission, they returned with Hoe Down, a piece with a fun syncopated tune. I’ve heard other orchestras play it before, but I loved that Pops included a good “Yeehaw” in the middle. To end the night, they played the William Tell Overture. I feel like it’s a piece everyone knows. Though I didn’t recognize the title, I immediately recognized the tunes, especially the latter half. 

As always, Pops includes movies to play alongside their music. This semester, they chose to film Pokémon and Jaws, and the way the actors portrayed the animals was hilarious. Pikachu was taller than Ash, his trainer, and the shark in Jaws crawled out of the fountain by the Michigan League. 

I highly recommend going to the Michigan Pops Orchestra concerts. They’re always amazing and enjoyable for people who aren’t well-versed in classical music and I always have a lot of fun at their events!