Ah, Verdi!

It's that time of year again, opera lovers - Verdi at Michigan Opera Theater. This time it's an opera we've never done before: Macbeth. Verdi was a fan of Shakespeare and transcribed a number of his plays for the opera stage, a feat for which we will always be grateful. Who can imagine life without Otello and Falstaff? 2016 is a special year for Shakespeare because it's the 400th anniversary of his death. He has influenced the English language in profound ways too numerous to count. Let's just say that our language would be very different if it hadn't been for Shakespeare.

MOT has just completed our sitzprobe (a German term meaning seated rehearsal, when the orchestra and singers have their first rehearsal together, generally with the orchestra in the pit and the singers sitting (sitz) on stage) for Macbeth, an early Verdi opera which premiered after Nabucco but before his other big blockbusters, Rigoletto, Il Trovatore and La Traviata. Aida, Otello and Falstaff were yet to come. The music of Macbeth is unmistakably Verdi and we have wonderful singers to round out the cast. Our Macbeth is none other than Stephen Powell who sang Germont in our Traviata a couple years ago. His rich and expressive baritone is something I've been looking forward to since hearing that he was going to return to the MOT stage for this production.

I am often asked how often we rehearse for an opera. For the orchestra, we have five rehearsals - two orchestra rehearsals, one sitzprobe and two dress rehearsals. We've already had two orchestra rehearsals just to get through all the music. The sitzprobe is the rehearsal I look forward to most when the music comes alive with all the musical components. The singers may not sing full voice but we can usually get the emotional impact at a sitzprobe - the music starts to make a lot more sense.

Next, everyone but the orchestra has a piano technical rehearsal, then a piano dress (which is fun for the orchestra musicians to attend because it's the only time we can sit in the house and see the stage without having to play our instruments). Then the orchestra has two dress rehearsals with the stage, which are both necessary because we usually have two casts for the main characters. Finally, opening night! It's very exciting because we're still a little on edge and all that work finally comes to fruition on that one night when the performance is being broadcast live on WRCJ, 90.9 fm and critics attend to give their opinions on our production. The MOT website also invites audience members to post their comments.

I am posting this prior to our opening night (April 16, 2016, 7:30 at the Detroit Opera House) with hopes that some of you may be moved to attend. I don't expect that we will repeat Macbeth any time soon but it is worth seeing if you are a fan of Verdi or Shakespeare or psychological thrillers in general. Did I mention that there is a lot of bloodshed and all the main characters die before the end of the opera? I should say that most of the murders occur offstage, however.

If you go to the opera, please let me know what you think by commenting on this blog.

Thanks, and Toi, toi, toi!

A View from the Pit

Heinz Prechter Educational and Performing Arts Center at WCCC

The final weekend performances of MOT’s production of Aaron Copland’s The Tender Land were held at a very interesting venue, the Heinz Prechter Educational and Performing Arts Center in Taylor, MI. It’s the first time the company has presented there and, according to CEO Wayne Brown’s opening remarks, it won’t be the last.

My first impression was favorable. It looks like a very new performing arts hall but I was told it’s been there for a number of years. As I drove in from Northline Rd. the architecture of the building welcomed me with open arms and the glass façade gave an inviting effect. Inside the back stage area was spacious and clean – unbelievably so. Someone provided signs directing us to the pit which was so low that a platform had to be built for the orchestra and, even with a podium, the conductor’s head couldn’t be seen from the audience. After coming from the Macomb Center the sound was surprisingly complimentary and friends in the audience said the orchestra sounded great.

My view of the stage from the pit

It was generally agreed in the orchestra pit that, although we enjoyed the music from Copland's opera, we are glad it’s over. The orchestra parts were reduced from a full orchestra to a small chamber ensemble of 13 musicians and we had to carry the backup for the singers for a little over two hours.  It wouldn’t have been so bad if we had had an intermission between acts 2 and 3 but, perhaps in order to save time, they decided to combine the second and third acts into one 60-minute act. It was a killer for some of the musicians. A few of us were complaining about our rotator cuffs, there was a bad back or two and arms were practically falling off by the end of every performance. Maintaining concentration was also a challenge when you're playing constantly, as was balance in volume between pit and stage. We were frequently given “the hand” (shhh – play softer!) and I was heard proclaiming that “I’ve never played so softly in my life!” The clarinetist and I were comparing notes on how our embouchures were unable to produce a decent sound anymore and I felt a kindred spirit with marathon runners as they collapse at the end of a race.  

Now we have a much needed week off before rehearsals start for the ballet, The Sleeping Beauty with the American Ballet Theater from New York. I have to switch gears from flute to piccolo and Copland to Tchaikovsky – a marathon to a series of sprints. At least in ballet we don’t have to worry about playing softly all the time so the singers can be heard.

Playing Piccolo in the Opera Orchestra

May 17, 2015

I'm excited to post my first blog post here today. It has taken me since last May to get around to it, so that explains the discrepancy in dates. Well, here it goes! I hope you like it.

How many people can say they love their job?  I count myself among the lucky ones who are absolutely enthralled with what they do.  When I go to work all the cares of the world melt away and I am transported to a place where my heart is filled with beauty.  I don’t go there alone, either.  Fifty or so of my colleagues in the pit and another group of approximately that number or more on the stage, along with hundreds of audience members, are taken to that place too, transported by the music of opera.  I am an opera musician and I have the best job in the world!

Throughout Michigan Opera Theater’s run of Gounod’s Faust, we have had one glorious performance after another.  The soloists of both casts are awe-inspiring, the chorus is brilliant, and the conductor brings power and freedom to the score, allowing the musicians to play with their hearts (but more about conductors in another post). 

Usually by the second weekend of the run we are on auto-pilot.  It takes a couple dress rehearsals, opening night and one more performance to get to the point where we know what to expect, then it’s just “relax and have fun”. 

Ha!  It’s nice when it works that way but the life of a piccolo player is sometimes fraught with terror.  Most of the time I sit there, counting rests, trying to stay awake.  Sometimes I tacet a whole number, in which case I can close my eyes and wait for the applause to wake me up and start paying attention again.  As I am the only piccolo player in the orchestra, if I come in on a rest or play a wrong note it is obvious who made that mistake.  I will undoubtedly get a dirty look from the conductor.  There is nothing like fear to make you stay awake.   Part of the life of a piccolo player in the pit is spent trying to stay awake and another part is spent in sheer terror waiting for a big exposed solo with a cold, temperamental instrument, not completely comfortable with what is going to come out when it’s time to play.  The rest of the time is great fun.

One of those fun moments in Faust is during the dance at the end of Act II when the orchestra is playing a rousing waltz and we can only imagine what is happening on stage.  I imagine a crowded ballroom with dancers and I want to get up and join them.  The music lifts me out of my chair and transports me to the ballroom where I am swept off my feet by one of the handsome dancers and I am twirling around the dance floor in a beautiful costume . . . time to wake up!  There is actually no time to daydream during the waltz.  The orchestra is very busy creating the ambiance for the dancing and it is one of the times when we can really open up and play.  So much of the time in opera we have to play very quietly so we don’t cover the singers but there is always a dancing scene in French opera so the orchestra switches gears from opera to ballet.  I must confess that I love to play waltzes, even the “Waltz of the Flowers” in the Nutcracker ballet - that much maligned waltz that orchestra musicians love to hate because of its repetitive nature.  I love it because it builds with each repetition until it reaches the climax.

The second waltz in Faust is also fun to play.  It is the famous “Jewel” aria which Marguerite sings after Mephistopheles leaves her a box of jewels.  It features the two flutes in little duet vignettes, a very dainty and feminine aria but a show stopper for the soprano.

I can’t talk about Faust without mentioning my favorite aria and one of the most beautiful tenor arias of all time, “Salut, demeure chaste et pure”.  It is pure magic and we had a chance to hear two wonderful tenors sing it because the show was double-cast.  The tenor who sang the final performance is a star of the popular singing group, Il Divo.  His name is David Miller and I was a fan before he became an international sensation.  I don’t know why I remembered his name, it’s such a common-sounding American name, but I remember his voice singing Lenski’s aria in Eugene Onegin many years ago.  It ripped my heart out with its passion and poignancy.  He came back a few years ago to sing Tamino in The Magic Flute, another memorable performance.  In Faust’s aria, he did not disappoint.

Sitting in the pit at such times can be quite frustrating.  I want to see what is going on and watch the singers but it’s impossible from where I sit just under the lip of the stage where, if they were using stage fog, it would fall right on top of me.  As a matter of fact, when they turn on the air conditioning, the breeze coming down from the stage is so strong, it turns our pages for us – at all the wrong times!

Occasionally I can hear that the singers are at the downstage edge and I can twist around to see the tops of their heads.  Last Sunday was one such occasion.  As I heard the voices getting closer to the edge of the stage, I leaned forward and looked up.  It was exciting to see David Miller with his mouth wide open, singing his heart out.  There was something else interesting about seeing opera from my unique vantage point - I am probably one of the few people who can say they have looked into David Miller’s nostrils!