I don't listen to opera because it is elitist.

I don't enjoy it because it is one of the high arts.

Not because its synonymous with the upper-middle class.

Or in a bid to seem like more of an intellectual.

If those are one's reasons for adoring anything, then that is a vacuous passion indeed.

I listen because I love and am moved by the beautiful music.

Isn't that reason enough?

Renee Fleming....

and Handel do not mix.

Renee Fleming and Bel Canto do not mix.

Renee Fleming and Verismo combine to form operatic magic. Well, most of the time.

Dear lord, I don't know what I was thinking. Please take my two Renee Fleming mistakes (albums is a little too kind) and substitute them with a DVD of Eugene Onegin and perhaps a (no Handel or Bel Canto arias included) recital CD.

Thank you.

Jessye Norman

One cannot discuss late 20th century opera music without mentioning Jessye Norman. One of the most prominent American opera singers of the last 25 years, Jessye combines a rich, expressive voice with incredible artistry and an understanding of the music. Born in 1945 in the USA, Jessye has a unique singing voice that combines the dark timbre of a lower Mezzo-Soprano with the range of a 'higher' Dramatic Soprano hence her ability to sing roles that lie within the spectrum of these two vocal types. Like I mentioned, she's famous for her understanding of the music and artistry. To quote a prominent reviewer at a past recital of hers "If one added up all the things that Jessye Norman does well as a singer, the total would assuredly exceed that of any other soprano before the public. At Miss Norman's recital ... tones were produced, colors manipulated, words projected and interpretive points made—all with fanatic finesse."

Sadly, due to aging and (especially) her 'intensely muscular' form of singing, she has currently lost most of her upper register and, as of the mid-90's, has been singing more opera roles and recitals from the mezzo-soprano repertoire.

Here's a sample of Jessye Norman's singing:

The aria 'Mon Coeur S'ouvre a ta Voix' from the opera 'Samson and Delilah'. This opera is based on the biblical story.

Maria Callas

Her voice was wild and wobbly, it lacked velvet, had an almost gratingly metallic tone and, in the middle of her range, she sang with a ‘hooty’ vocal quality.

Yet, for all its flaws, Callas’ voice was arguably the most exciting to come out of the opera world in the past century. She had marvellous technique, had a mesmerising stage presence and gave the most beautiful interpretations. Callas had an electrifying voice; it was dark like molasses and, yet, had an excellent top. This is a woman that would sing a mezzo low note and, in the same breath, trill on a soprano E flat. Her Manon Lescaut is chilling, her Norma poignant, her Turandot electrifying, her Elvira delightfully light and beautiful. She was a most prolific interpreter singing roles from literally every composer from a MASSIVELY HEAVY Isolde to a light, vocally acrobatic Gilda. Her voice had none of the homogenous quality of some of today’s opera singers; it had an instantly recognisable tone and she had the ability to ‘color’ it according to the role she was singing.

She lived as tragic a life as the roles she sang (she lost her husband Aristotle Onassis to JFK’s widow then lost her singing voice at a relatively young age) and that undoubtedly fuelled her excellent interpretations.

A YouTube commenter stated that the (almost half a millennium) opera world should be divided into two eras: pre-Callas and post-Callas. Regardless of the fact that she’s not even my favourite singer (and has as many detractors as she has fans), I entirely agree. Callas brought the drama into opera and revolutionised audiences expectations.

Singing Delilah’s aria of seduction ‘Mon Coeur Souvre a’ta voix’




Singing Gilda’s ‘Caro Nome’ (compare the light voice here with the vocal color she sang with in above video!)




In her signature role as the conflicted Celtic Druid High Priestess. Singing ‘Casta Diva’

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tmN8YT9Avg4

Pavarotti

How incredibly cliche.

But Mr Pav is one of those rare performers that manage to combine mainstream popularity with major critic-loving (for the most part). It's his idiosyncratic voice; not a large voice but very clearly heard in the opera house due to how it's perfectly focused and its clean, Italianate ping. Plus the man has seemingly no passagio! Much copied but never replicated, this is a lyric tenor for the ages.

Overplayed doesn't come close to describing how I feel about the following aria. It isn't difficult though to see why it really propelled Pav into the mainstream.




A Ramses rivalled only by Corelli. That "un trono vicino al sol" at the end is incredible.

Birgit Nilsson

In the beginning, I wasn't too fond of this woman due the steely cold quality of her top notes and the immense volume. But an acquired taste she is and now that I have learnt to appreciate her, I do realise why they say that few other sopranos come close in most of the Wagner and Strauss (and one Puccini) operas.

1. The Liebestod (love-death). The most famous love song in opera. So much pathos conveyed so subtly.




2. Birgit as the fearsome Princess Turandot. I love the laser-like high C that shoots out bright and clear at 3:00




3. As the utterly mental Princess (she sang a lot of conflicted princesses) Salome in a concert performance.

So,

What does a strapping young man in France, the land of romance do?

Of course, he goes to the opera!

I caught a performance of Verdi's Rigoletto in Paris; the Gilda was a lovely Russian soprano named Ekaterina Syurina. She had a light beautiful leggiero soprano voice that, for me, was reminiscent of Kathleen Battle's (although it had a little more heft). THe characterisation was perfect and the Caro Nome made me fall in love. The Italian tenor (I forget his name) that sang the Duke of Mantua had some beautiful tender piano notes but apart from that, he was standard Italianate tenor. The Rigoletto had great characterisation. The only problem I had was the woody, rather small-voiced Spafarucile they chose.

In Toulouse, as one must, I sauntered by the Theatre du Capitole for a staging of Enescu's little performed Oedipe. It's a comparatively smaller theatre so all the singer's voices carried pretty nicely through the opera house and the Oedipe, although a bit stilted in acting, was amazing in the Corelli-esque forceful, declamatory singing which Act II demands. Was wonderful to watch but I made the mistake of bringing a total opera novice along which turned out to be a bit of a mistake. Perhaps the equivalent of reading books for the first time ever and starting with Homer's Lliad. My enjoyment of the performance was a little tempered by the whining from my right but to be fair though, the pacing of the performance was very slow and required a great deal of concentration which we were ill-suited to provide due to our having just come off a rather tiring day.

There you have it, my French jaunt. Though I'm a little pooped about having missed Christine Brewer's Wagner recital in Kuala Lumpur while I was away.