THE CITY MUSICK
There is a certain appropriateness to hearing Mozart’s early opera–concerning a Greek king’s vow to Neptune–surrounded by the classical white columns of the aquarium lobby, with a tank of sea creatures situated directly behind the stage action casting its glowing green hues across the ceiling. Many of the audience members were claiming to have seen the various creatures literally move in rhythm to the music. (That same week, researchers had revealed that dolphins responded ecstatically to baroque and classical music and swam away from rock.)
Best of Chicago voting is live now. Vote for your favorites »
Judging by this first attempt, it is a most welcome addition indeed to the Chicago opera scene. Although we already have two outstanding opera companies (Lyric Opera in the fall and Chicago Opera Theater in the spring), they are both primarily committed to 19th-century opera. Lyric’s own attempts to stage early opera have been handicapped by an over-large orchestra and chorus, by slow tempi, and often by the wobbly vibratos of opera superstars of yesteryear who race through the masters’ arias like bulls through a china shop. Some of the problem is simply the enormous size of the Civic Opera House, but the Lyric has also refused to accept the revolutionary findings of the early-music movement, whose more intimate approach strives to approximate the textures, timbres, and tempi of early opera rather than to perform it in a bombastic 19th-century manner, as it it were Verdi or Puccini.
One of the most outstanding elements of this production is Banks herself. If Christopher Hogwood is the Toscanini of the early-music movement–that is, a conductor who emphasizes precision and balance above emotion and expression–then Banks is surely emerging as the movement’s Bernstein–intensely emotional, letting the beauty and lyricism of every phrase literally sweep her away. If precision, balance, and consistent tempi are often sacrificed in the process, it seems a small price to pay. Banks conducts with a vision and zeal rare in “authentic” performances, and it is a refreshing change from many of the dry-as-dust early-music performances so common today.
Surprisingly, Paul Elliott, probably the greatest early-music tenor singing today, was having some trouble with the role of Arbace, Idomeneo’s counsel. His usually beautiful tenor timbre seemed forced, his usually flawless vocal technique strained considerably during the difficult vocal runs. Perhaps this was simply an off night.
Art accompanying story in printed newspaper (not available in this archive): photo/Larry Zambello.
