- BRAVISSIMO,
ANDREA!!
Complimenti per una rappresentazione grandiosa, un lavoro
meraviglioso!
Grazie, Andrea!
Carmen, this opera is full of dramatic and passion, full of
emotions and feelings!
Carmen herself (Ildiko Komlosi - great voice) - she is a devil,
she uses every advantage, she is playing with feelings,
especially with the feeling of Don José. As he is no longer
useful, she let fall him.
Don José (Andrea) is a very sentimental man, he loves Michaela,
a girl from his home village. But more and more he is interested
in Carmen, finally he is inflamed in love to her. And he has to
make a decision between his duty and his passion for Carmen.
First act: after the
first scene with Michaela, Ltd. Zuniga and the choir, Don José
comes on stage, together with other soldiers - Andrea
looks phantastic in his uniform! No wonder that Carmen
has an eye on him, she tries to get his attention, touches him
and at least she throws the flower on his breast.
Than the duet with Michaela "Parle-moi de ma mère.."-
very strong and absolut the
first highlight - strong applause after the scene!
The end of the first act: José arrests Carmen, because of a
knife attack against another woman. She asks him to let her
escape. José, who at first was very negative against her, but
now more and more falling in love to her, refuses, but than he
opens her chains, she knockes him down to the bottom and escapes....
Second act: at first Carmen, than Escamillo (Natale De Carolis:
he had some problems with the deeper notes) with "Votre
Toast".
In the middle of the act finally José again, alone with Carmen,
she dances. And the Floweraria "La fleur que tu m`avais
jettée.." - it seems to be
that Andrea has put all the power of his voice in this aria -
absolutely great - at the end much and long applause and
Bravo-shouts!
Carmen asks him to come with her, José, again between duty and
his love, says "no", in this moment Ltd. Zuniga enters,
he insults José, short fight with swords, Carmen seperates the
fighters. No way back for José!
Third act: in the mountains, Carmen and José quarrel, he
suffers, because he is not sure, if she still loves him.
Mercedes, Frasquita and Carmen tell the fortune, for Carmen with
the result: death! She is shocked.
Aria of Michaela.
José, now member of a group of smugglers, with a gun in his
hands, meets Escamillo. He is jealous, they fight with knives - very
dramatic and very good! - José is shortly before to kill
Escamillo, Carmen again seperates them. That makes José more
jealous, the smugglers must hold him back, he always wants to
attack Escamillo again, he clenches his fists.
Carmen wants the seperation. Michaela enters the scene, now José
is standing between her and Carmen, but he doesn`t love Michaela
any longer, and Carmen doesn`t love him any longer - what a
dilemma! And Michaela tells him, that his mother is going to die
- he is desperate!
Fourth act: Bull fight in the arena - Carmen and José clash in
front of the arena. Carmen confesses that she loves Escamillo,
she throws José`s ring away. He knocks her down, shakes
her...it seems to be as if he will strangle her...and at least
he stabs her...
The last notes "Vouz pouvez m`arreter.." he is singing
with wide streched arms, before he breaks down on the dead
Carmen....
Phantastic and dramatic final!!
....Also one day later I am breathless while talking about it
.....
It was a wonderful evening, Andrea was phantastic, he was
singing phanatastic and also acting phantastic!!
Ancora una volta, grazie Andrea,
e molto successo per le prossime rappresentazione!
- by Anne-Karin
D. Hamburg, Germany
|
- To Cross an Ocean for a
Song: Carmen, Roma, 2008
-
- Andrea has lured us to so many
unforgettable first-time adventures—Sicily, Naples, Bologna,
Verona, Wales, Detroit (!?) —but the Eternal City was
already familiar territory to us. For Andrea, however, it was
really the first staged opera performance in a major world
capital—an exciting setting. As we got into the cab for
opening night, it was thrilling to pronounce the lilting
Italian sound of our destination, Teatro dell’ Opera di
Roma, and enchanting to follow our course over the cobbled
streets round the curve of Castel Sant’Angelo, over the
Tiber river with a glimpse of St. Peter’s dome catching the
sun’s twilight glow, along the busy via del Corso, through
the many crowded piazzas each with its distinctive fountain or
obelisk, and finally to the open sunken square before the
Teatro with its marble-paved courtyard studded with lush palms.
The adventure of Carmen was about to begin!
-
- The Teatro dell’ Opera di
Roma is a study in gold and crimson, with multitudes of
graceful arches, and the whole interior sumptuously punctuated
with hundreds of crystal chandeliers. The ceiling of the
soaring dome is adorned with a beautiful fresco. Among the
world premieres at this theater have been those of
Mascagni’s Cavalleria
Rusticana in 1890
and Puccini’s Tosca
in 1900.
In a famous controversial performance in 1958, the supreme
diva Maria Callas abandoned a performance of Norma after the
first act because of vocal problems. The current seating
capacity for the floor and the four tiers that rise to the
dome is about 1600, and for all of Andrea’s four
performances, as nearly as a visual survey could determine,
they were sold out. According to the comment of one reviewer,
this did not seem to be the norm for the theater.
-
- La Prima
-
- The patrons were in elegant
evening dress opening night and abuzz with anticipation—perhaps
not completely because of curiosity about Andrea’s debut in
this role and in this theater. Italy was playing France that
night for a place in the World Cup finals and every possible
version of electronic gadgetry was universally tuned to check
for the score during intermissions, including I’m sure in
Andrea’s camerino! Andrea’s mother was in the first box to
the right of the stage. Alberto was in a nearby box. Loyal
Verano had come with a group of friends from Tuscany. We saw
Tony Renis, and Bruno Vespa, the host of the popular TV talk
show Porta a Porta, was two rows in front of us. So was Ivano
Berti, Veronica’s father. (Andrea’s sons were both there
for the second production. Also, in the front row, was Nicola
Piovani, the composer who gave us the hauntingly beautiful
soundtrack for “Life Is Beautiful” and who will conduct
part of the program for the 2008 Teatro del Silenzio concert.)
The varied languages filling the hall attested to the
international crowd, which of course included an enthusiastic
representation from the US. The opening night included a good
many patrons who held un abbonamento (season subscription) and
were undoubtedly curious about Bocelli and most probably
waiting to be convinced about his operatic credentials.
-
- Among the skeptical was an
older couple seated in front of us. During the intermission
after the first act, the man enquired about where we were from
in the United States. Within a few minutes, between my basic
Italian and his tentative English, I learned that he was
retired, lived in a coastal town between Rome and Naples, grew
up in Cassino, and was 13 at the time of the decimating World
War II military campaign there that destroyed the town and its
crowning jewel, the irreplaceable eleventh-century Benedictine
monastery of Montecassino. It seemed urgent to him that we
know that his father, a soldier, had died in some unknown town
of Russia and that to this day he frequently visited the
graves of the war dead—both German and American—as a
consolation for the inability to visit the grave of his own
father. He was clear that he felt his country owed a great
deal to America. When he heard that we had come specifically
to hear Andrea in this opera, he remarked, with what struck me
as carefully chosen diplomacy, that this was perhaps not
Bocelli’s role. In truth, I thought Andrea had seemed a bit
nervous and somewhat vocally tentative in the first act. But
such jitters were not unusual for him. “Give him time,” I
said to our doubting friend. That time came in Act II when
Andrea hit his stride with the famous aria “La fleur que tu
m’avais jette’.” Infused with earnest and plaintive
longing, Andrea’s pure tenor wove its palpable emotional
connection with the audience. At the moment when we all
finally stirred from the tender caress of the final notes and
burst into appreciative applause, the old man turned round to
me with a beatific grin that filled his face and pronounced
unreservedly in English, “THAT was beautiful!!” Yes…
-
- I Bei Momenti
-
- If Andrea had given us only
this single gorgeous aria, it would have been enough. But
there were so many delightful mental snapshots to keep. There
was Brigadier Bocelli’s first stride onstage in that
gold-buttoned, high-collared, impeccably fitted white and navy
uniform coat, complete with epaulettes and tan pants tucked
into the jaunty brown boots that set off his height. Yet,
despite the elegant military look with sword flashing at his
side, handsome belt, striking white cross-strap on his chest,
the costume repeatedly evoked from him the most charmingly
engaging sporadic fidgeting ever produced onstage. Fortunately,
this added a believable dimension of unease to the character
portrayal. In any case, Andrea’s acting ability has
continued to develop. It was a pleasure to see the effectively
detailed gestures incorporated into his performance: the
adorably ineffective body movements to evade the wiles of
Carmen and maintain his military composure at their first
encounter, the characteristic slap to his thigh indicating
frustration, the predictable surreptitious rope check (each of
the four nights) to be sure that this necessary prop was
tucked into his belt for the moment when it would be needed to
dutifully bind the hands of his prisoner Carmen, his
convincing reactions while “watching” the alluringly
seductive dance of Carmen. Later, we saw Daniel Boone Bocelli
in the mountain hideout setting, trusty musket thrust before
him to stoically challenge the intruder Escamillo. Then there
was the continuing drama of the unforgettable evasive red
poppy, so central to the first encounter of Don Jose’ and
Carmen when she marks him for her next conquest with the
thrust of the fateful flower. That dauntingly wayward flower
prop seemed to evade Andrea’s every attempt to stoop
casually and take it in hand as called for in the scene. Each
time it fell to his feet just out of reach, and he was forced
to feel around a bit for it. And each of the four nights,
either Carmen or Andrea devised some new subtle means to
effect a smoother retrieval. Yet, every night the willful red
menace continued to confound him, until the final night. With
tenorial tenacity, subtly but firmly, he stomped it in place
with his handsome booted foot as it dropped to the floor to
keep it, at last, right where he wanted it…a small stage
triumph that made us smile.
-
- La Messa in Scena
-
- From the first downward stroke
of Maestro Alain Lombard’s baton, the passionate thrust of
Bizet’s music explodes and sweeps you into its force. It is
intoxicating—infused with the colorful pageantry and
passionate tradition of Spain. The production captured this as
well in varied ways…the opulent costuming; rhythmic
energetic dancing performed with color, style, and surging
energy; the full-voiced chorus; and the use of some rather
unique projected imagery. These projections on a scrim placed
at midpoint onstage, dividing the stage action before and
behind, added interesting dimensions to the production, They
provided a broadened panoramic feel; created scenic backdrops
like the mountain crags or an enchanting cloud-swept full moon
at dawn; and evoked the excitement of swirling senoritas,
lively street vendors, and boisterous crowds in the parade
scenes in front of the grand arena of Seville. In the first
moment of the opera, the opening image of the arena that
became progressively larger on the screen and drew us
virtually into its depths effectively foreshadowed the drama
of life and death about to unfold that mirrored the cruel
tragedy played out in the bullring.
-
- Il Primo Attore
-
- Through the course of the four
performances, as Andrea achieved a comfort level, his
interactions and reactions with the singers became
increasingly more confident. I thought a great deal about the
strength of will it requires of Andrea to do what it takes to
appear in staged opera. Initially, during the beginning of the
first act, I was a bit disappointed in what seemed to me the
director Pier’Alli’s lack of confidence in giving Andrea
more freedom of movement onstage. To me, the first few
entrances and exits gave an appearance of his being led about
too much. This, after all, was the man who had swept Cio Cio
San into his arms and carried her cavalierly to the summit of
a steeply raked stage “hill” for a climactic embrace in
Madama Butterfly; who had climbed the two dozen steps of the
church altar without missing a beat when the set unexpectedly
and perilously split apart and who had also achieved a firing
squad death scene that was to die for (so to speak) in Tosca;
who had, in L’Amico Fritz, flamboyantly scaled a ladder to a
dizzyingly high outlook and hung precariously over the edge
and, in the finale, twirled Suzanne in a jubilantly triumphant
feet-off-the ground sweeping circle; and who had ridden
horseback onstage in one production of Werther and, in another,
wandered in desolation unerringly from stage rear to stage
front of a movie theater setting and dropped convincingly to
the floor after dramatically shooting himself. Why were they
giving him nothing to do here? To my relief, however, the
situation rapidly improved as Andrea was thrust to the floor
and achieved a well-executed fall during the Act I escape of
Carmen, managed a quick moving swordfight with his superior
officer in Act II, navigated a menacingly dramatic knife duel
with Escamillo that required a mutual test of strength and
pinning his rival to the floor in Act III, and, most
dramatically of all, realistically depicted the murder of
Carmen in the final act.
-
- Altri Protagonisti
-
- Actually, there were a few
other people in the cast besides Andrea. The opera is called
Carmen after all—and Ildiko Komlosi was really brilliant in
this demanding role: fiery, passionate, flirtatious, and
alluring. Who knows what Carmen was thinking when she set her
sights on poor Don Jose’, a literally fatal decision. But
seeing Andrea in that uniform, well, who could blame the girl?
This is a woman who states, “I am not afraid of anything,”
and she means it with every fiber of her being. The mezzo
brought her convincingly to life. Her vocal control was
impressive, with mood and expression ranging from insolence
and power, to seductive sorcery, to vulnerability, and stoic
acceptance. From the first moment she makes her entrance until
her death in the final scene, she is hardly ever off stage.
Watching her subtle interactions with him, it was evident that
Komlosi was an attentive and open-hearted colleague to Andrea
throughout their performances. The other principal singers
rotated throughout the four productions we saw. Of the two
Escamillos, Natale de Carolis (who sang Schaunard on the La
Boheme recording with Andrea and also appeared in the Bologna
Werther) gave the proudest toreador impression, though some of
the lower notes in the challenging range of the role eluded
him. Simone Alberghini was, I thought, livelier and a more
convincing combatant in the knife duel with Andrea. I
personally preferred the softer, sweeter portrayal of Micaela
achieved by the second of the two sopranos, Cinzia Rizzone. I
thought she was a better blend with Andrea’s beautifully
rounded timbre. Maria Carola seemed a bit harsher and more
mature than the soft, shy, country-girl demeanor that the role
of Micaela requires. The other minor roles were uniformly
good, offering some lively and very entertaining duets, trios,
and quartets. The very young dancers who portrayed the
ragamuffins of the town who mock and tease the marching band
of soldiers at the changing of the guard in the opening act
were quite adorable, particularly the littlest one who skipped
about with excited abandon that won a sympathetic audience
response each night. When Andrea, with back to the audience
and hands crossed behind him, took up his parade-rest guard
position in this scene, he had an engagingly charming moment
of visual interaction with these teasing little ragazzi. With
his natural affinity for children, I would bet he thoroughly
enjoyed working with them during rehearsals.
-
- Brigadiere Innamorato
-
- Andrea had already commented
in an interview before these performances that the role of Don
Jose is a true test for any tenor, an important debut for him,
and a role that was dear to his idol and maestro Franco
Corelli. The program called the role difficilissimo (ultimately
difficult) because of the constant alternating between a sweet
lyric and more dramatic tenor vocal expression. There is no
doubt that he worked very hard to portray this role, and,
secondo me, it reflected a new level of vocal maturity for him.
-
- There are many vocal
highlights. Unforgettable, and one of the sweetest, was
Andrea’s beautifully melodic and confident a cappella
performance of the optimistically jaunty tune of “Dragon
d’Arcala”—perfectly and proudly intoned with capable
trills—that announced his second act entrance. He begins it
offstage and it culminates with the final thrill of the high
note, held long and strongly, that marks his actual appearance
onstage. It is a rare, light-hearted, optimistic moment for
Don Jose’, newly released from prison and in the throes of
love, before his world begins to crumble around him. It was
bittersweet to have to hear it for the last time on the final
night…but we have the CD!
-
- One of the most memorable
scenes for me, and one that seemed most demanding for the
singers, begins midway through Act II with Carmen’s dance
for Don Jose’, moves through his profession of love with the
beautiful and familiar aria “La fleur…,” and then
through the interaction that leads to his final surrender to
her sorcery and to his desertion. Throughout this scene,
Andrea’s portrayal of the agonized torment caused by the
clash between his irresistible attraction for Carmen and his
sense of honor and commitment to duty was intense, although
carefully measured. The intricate interplay of the first part
of this Act II dialogue is reinforced by the intertwining
rhythms of the castanets of Carmen’s dance and the trumpet
call for retreat to quarters that interrupts her seduction and
draws Don Jose’s attention from her. She reacts explosively
to his distraction. To calm her, Andrea stands behind her,
slowly draws from his coat the treasured flower that he has
kept with him in prison and tenderly lifts it to her face
while beginning the gently sweet melody of the aria that
describes his powerful feelings. His voice grows in intensity
as he sings of the ardent emotion that has increasingly
possessed his soul— “one desire…one hope” that she
will love him. Andrea was masterful, his interpretation was
sheer perfection, particularly the final night. While singing,
he comes round beside Carmen and, when he finally helplessly
drops to his knee beside her in utter submission with the
final declaration “Je t’aime,” the combined effect of
the enchanting spell of his artistry, the urgency in his
beautifully modulated voice, and the sweet gesture of his
surrender were indescribable. Every time, the audience
responded with enthusiastic applause, particularly the final
night that drew many bravos. It had to be the most satisfying
moment for him. All I could think was there is no other tenor
I have heard singing today who could possibly produce such
delicately nuanced melodic beauty. Unfortunately, Carmen is
less impressed. Her immediate cold response is “Tu ne
m’aimes pas.” She proceeds then to vocally berate him with
what he would do if he really loved her. Her mocking
intensifies. For his part, with the repetition of just one
word—“Carmen”—Andrea conveys a world of pleading
emotion and increasing desperation. At one point, it seems Don
Jose’ may yet summon the will to resist Carmen’s
unreasonable demand that he give up all that represents honor
and duty for him, and Andrea reinforces this moment with firm
voice and strong sudden movement away from Carmen that are
perfectly coordinated. But fate takes a turn with the
interruption of the fatal knock on the tavern’s door of Don
Jose’s lieutenant, and the jealousy Don Jose’ feels toward
this possible rival finally overcomes all sense of duty. The
two clash heatedly with drawn swords and the insubordination
to his superior seals the fate of Don Jose. He now no longer
has the choice to return to his life as a soldier. But, for
the moment, the band of brigands convinces him that this new
rebellious life is one of liberty and freedom. In this Act II
choral finale, Andrea’s voice rang loud and clear above the
massed singers, and on the final night as an added flourish,
he swept the mezzo off her feet with an energetic lift as the
curtain fell.
-
- Without question, the most
intense dramatic and vocal challenge for Andrea was the
heartbreaking final scene when the grieving and broken Don
Jose appears alone to confront Carmen for the last time.
Silhouetted in the spotlight onstage is the dearly familiar
noble Tuscan profile. Facing Carmen, he says only, “C’est
moi.” In this scene, Andrea’s quietly simple approach
stripped of theatrics is powerfully effective. Bereft now of
all that had meaning for him—beloved mother, gentle love of
Micaela, the honor and dedication of his military career—he
makes his final plea to Carmen to come with him, still
clinging desperately to the unrealistic hope that they can
begin a new life “under new skies.” This musical dialogue
is unbelievably challenging, progressing as it does through
the incredible emotional range of quiet hope, to despairing
realization, to near psychotic jealousy and rage. It was
thrilling to watch Andrea meet the challenge both vocally and
dramatically, vividly reflecting it all through the powerful
music Bizet gives to him. The physical intensity of his crazed
stranglehold on Carmen’s throat followed by his fatally
powerful thrust of the knife in sync with the dark rage of his
words produced a startlingly convincing murderous effect. Who
would have thought our soft-spoken gentilissimo tenore could
have mustered such anger? When he finally slumps despairingly
over the body with the final words of the opera “ma Carmen
adoree’,” we felt drained by the drama he had played out
and the desolation he conveyed. Then, after momentarily
stunned shock, the appreciative, well-earned applause poured
over all from the audience. The curtain calls were uniformly
triumphant for the cast and, of course, rose to a predictable
level of intensity first for our star, Andrea, and then for
the nominal star, Carmen. The moment of achievement was sweet
indeed.
-
- La Sfida Enorme
-
- In a curious way, I had a
flash of insight into the enormity of the effort Andrea must
expend—mental, physical, and emotional—to achieve the
finished product of a staged operatic role. One afternoon Jack
and I were driving out of Rome for an excursion for about the
third or fourth time. The process is a challenge of Olympic
proportions—a hair-raising, stomach churning , white-knuckle
affair requiring all the mental focus and steeled nerves of
both driver (Jack) and navigator (me). The experience is a
toxic mix of three to five lanes of fast moving and
unpredictably shifting traffic, haphazardly ineffective
signage in a foreign language, unfamiliar traffic symbols,
unexpected one-way and controlled access streets, and a
mysterious secret code of Italian traffic etiquette, all
complexly interwoven with the insane maneuvering of crazy
motorino drivers who do not seem to be required to follow any
laws or standards of reason or logic whatsoever. To try to
assimilate all of these components and arrive successfully
from point A to point B is supremely nerve-wracking, to say
the least. In the midst of this particular trip, it suddenly
hit me that we might be feeling something akin to what it must
seem like to Andrea as he assumes the challenge to memorize,
master, coordinate, and apply the hundreds of cues, pathways,
posturings, expressions, gestures, and split-second timing
required of his performance, while adjusting to partners of
three separate cast changes, and to do all this while singing
a technically demanding score beautifully, yet forcefully, in
a language that is not his own. The challenge is unimaginable.
Yet, here is his comment on the production that provides some
insight into his characteristically calmly determined approach
not only to this project, but to life in general: “Certainly
I encountered difficulties because of the huge expanses
onstage, but I believe that problems exist to be resolved, and
the greater a problem appears to be, the bigger the
satisfaction in succeeding in overcoming it.” (Il Giornale
dei Grandi Eventi, 17 giugno, 2008, trans. CM). Andrea met
this newest challenge of his operatic repertoire head-on, with
his usual spirit and courage. I hope his satisfaction in doing
so is as boundless as the ocean we happily crossed to share it
with him!!
-
- A Casa
-
- Now, we are at home again. It
has been nearly a week since the curtain fell on the final
performance of Carmen. The persistent sensuous rhythms of that
music and the distinctive timbre of Andrea’s Don Jose
continue to replay in relentless soundtrack mode in my mind.
Perhaps it seems crazy to have crossed an ocean for a song.
But we would do it again for this and for all the other
beautiful moments of this production. What a wondrous gift it
all was.
-
- Bravo, carissimo Maestro! Alla
prossima volta…
-
- by Cami McNamee,
Washington, USA
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