In our latest post, we sketched the Met careers of so
many remarkable artists who participated in the 1966 gala--or might have, and
evoked the names of their illustrious predecessors seated on the stage
throughout the celebration. In the present post, we scroll back to the
gala concert of this past May and contrast it with the gala produced half a
century earlier. We are interested in presentation, repertoire, and roster
above all. This comparison is telling in gauging the relative strength of
the company’s brand then and now.
First, presentation. On the set of Tannhäuser’s Hall of Song,
the 1966 gala arrayed thirty-one retired stars who answered a roll call, each taking a place on the
stage to the cheers of the crowd. The history of the Metropolitan back to Giovanni Martinelli’s
1913 debut paraded before an audience attuned to the emotional pitch of the
occasion. And as the honored guests made their entrances, a section of the
chorus also seated on the stage rose in tribute: the sopranos for Elisabeth
Rethberg and Marjorie Lawrence, the altos for Marian Anderson and Risë Stevens,
the tenors for Martinelli and Richard Crooks, the basses for Alexander Kipnis,
and so on in homage to these and many, many more beloved principals of the
past. When Lotte Lehmann walked in, everyone stood.
By
way of contrast, at the 2017 gala former stars whose performances had deeply touched
the audience seated in the house were absent from the proceedings. Replacing
the collective memory of treasured evenings embodied by the artists in
full view, video clips of more than two dozen productions were seen in
projections. The visuals served as backdrops for the live performers. And
the music was interrupted by clips from interviews with luminaries such as
Leontyne Price, James Levine, and Marc Chagall. This filmed material was an
inescapable referent to Peter Gelb’s promotion of production, direction and design, and of his focus on the Met as a media
platform. But it did little to foreground voice and interpretation, the
stuff that draws fervent operagoing. The affective impact of the 1966 roll call
was largely lost.
An
intriguing parenthesis: On October 23, 1983, on the occasion of its 100th birthday,
the company threw itself a two-part gala, matinee and evening. In the very final segment, a phalanx of former
Met stars constituted an onstage audience once again. What in the world
could Zinka Milanov have been thinking as she sat just feet away from Price and
Luciano Pavarotti, at their absolute best in the act 2 duet of Un Ballo
in maschera? And what could Eleanor Steber have been feeling during Kiri Te Kanawa’s “Dove sono”? When the final curtain rose, the dozens
and dozens of artists crammed on the stage struck a deeply moving tableau of
the Met past and present.
In
1966, retired stars were visible on the stage from the beginning to the end of
the concert; in 1983, their presence was invited only for the final segment of
the evening show; and in 2017, they had no role at all, save for the fleeting
images of a chosen few on the big screen.
With
regard to programming, in large measure the 1966 and 2017 galas are similarly
conceived. Undisputed chestnuts dominate both bills. The
crucial expansions of the repertoire into the baroque, the Slavic, and the
contemporary wings, championed by James Levine (see our book, Grand
Opera: The Story of the Met), are only marginally present, testimony
perhaps to the unflagging desire of a well-heeled public for the familiar hits of
the operatic core.
And
finally, if the metrics of star power in a given epoch are difficult to
determine, the depth of any opera company’s principal asset, its roster, is
not. Take, for example, the sopranos who participated in the 1966 gala. Eight
had already or would one day be cast as Mimì in La Bohème, the
title most frequently performed at the Met: Kirsten, Albanese, Tebaldi, Mary
Curtis-Verna, Teresa Stratas, Steber, Caballé, Gabriella Tucci. Among the
artists who sang in the 2017 concert only Kristine Opolais, Sonya Yoncheva, and
Anna Netrebko had taken on this iconic role. And to date, only Netrebko has
shown the box-office appeal of Licia Albanese, Renata Tebaldi, or Montserrat
Caballé. There were eight Carmens onstage in 1966; in 2017, Elina Garanca was
the sole artist to have sung Bizet’s eternal gypsy.
Many factors combine to explain the downward trend in attendance
that has haunted Gelb’s Met. In 2015-2016, ticket sales fell to 66% of
capacity. In the late 1990s, capacity was at 90%. During the final seasons at
the Old Met, the “Sold Out” sign was a frequent disappointment to eager ticket
seekers. Our close look at two galas separated by fifty years tells us that the
decline in the number of bankable divas and divos bears a large share of
responsibility for the company’s perilous fiscal straits.
But while the breadth and depth of the 1966 roster is a
far cry from that available to the current Met management, the 2017 gala featured
several stars who would have shone on any stage at any time. Here in concert
and in commercial recordings are Joseph Calleja, Sonya Yoncheva, Elina Garanča,
and Joyce DiDonato in the same arias they sang this past May.
Calleja, who has been with the company more than ten
years, will be in the lustrous cast of Norma
that opens the 2017-2018 season. The immediately recognizable quality of
his vibrant timbre and the security of his range are displayed in Rodolfo’s
“Che gelida manina.”
Sonya Yoncheva made her company debut as Gilda in
2013. Since then she has excelled in the lyric and spinto roles of Violetta,
Desdemona, and Mimì. In this “Mi
chiamano Mimì” we hear her fresh and persuasive phrasing. La Bohème is one of three operas starring Yoncheva to be telecast “Live
in HD” in 2017-2018. The others are Verdi’s Luisa
Miller and Puccini’s Tosca.
Elina Garanča is familiar to the Met’s worldwide audiences from her performances in the “HD Live” telecasts of Carmen and Cenerentola. Her refined rendition of “Mon coeur s’ouvre à ta voix” is a riposte to the excess of many Dalilas.
Featured in next season’s new productions of Norma and Massenet’s Cendrillon is Joyce DiDonato. Here she delivers a stunning “Bel raggio lusinghier” from Rossini’s Semiramide. As always, the mezzo bends her bravura technique to her portrayal of the character.