Favorites of 2022: Books

This year I became involved in three extensive reading and research projects: the first on the Edwardian novelist Ada Leverson; the second on the the first black prima donna, the 18th-century contralto Vittoria Tesi; and the third on the 19th-century women-loving landowner Anne Lister.  So my list of favorite books first read this year is weighted more heavily towards nonfiction than usual. The list is alphabetical by author within each category, and titles link to the full E&I post if there is one.

FICTION:

Ada Leverson: The Little Ottleys: Love's Shadow, Tenterhooks, Love at Second Sight (1908, 1912, 1916; Virago/Dial, 1983)

I feared that I would find Ada Leverson's novels of social and emotional dilemmas among the Edwardian privileged classes, who are depicted in all their insularity and entitlement, to be more annoying than amusing. But I needn't have worried: her portrait of the marital constraints that male vanity and obtuseness place on intelligent and deeply-feeling women is quietly devastating. Leverson, an intimate of Oscar Wilde, wrote with sharp wit and keen observation about characters who are torn between observing social proprieties and seizing their fleeting chances of happiness.

Ann Radcliffe: The Romance of the Forest (1791; Oxford World's Classics, 1999)

Honorable mention:

Ann Radcliffe: The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794; Oxford World's Classics, 1980)

A young heroine is held against her will in a remote, decaying abbey, or mansion, or castle. She is at the mercy of a sinister older man with designs on her fortune, or person, or both. Subject to uncanny occurrences and apparitions, discovering secret documents and hidden doorways, she slowly unearths the fatal secrets hidden in the rooms, vaults, and labyrinthine passageways of her prison. One of Radcliffe's recurring devices is the heroine's ultimate recognition that the apparently supernatural phenomena she encounters all have rational explanations.

This template of the Gothic novel, so brilliantly parodied by Jane Austen in Northanger Abbey, was not invented by Radcliffe; Horace Walpole (The Castle of Otranto, 1764) and Clara Reeve (The Old English Baron, 1777) had developed its elements first. But Radcliffe brought it to a kind of perfection in The Romance of the Forest.

While The Romance of the Forest made Radcliffe's reputation, it was her next novels, The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) and The Italian (1797), that won her a wide readership. As Austen's hero Henry Tilney says in Northanger Abbey, "'The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid. I have read all Mrs. Radcliffe’s works, and most of them with great pleasure. The Mysteries of Udolpho, when I had once begun it, I could not lay down again; I remember finishing it in two days—my hair standing on end the whole time.'"

This past year I also read Udolpho, but I confess it took me considerably longer than two days. Udolpho, nearly twice as long as Romance, is padded with many more descriptions of sublime nature scenes. It also has some story lines that end anticlimactically—for example, when the heroine Emily finally manages to escape from the castle of Udolpho and her persecutor Montoni, but decides to give up the escape attempt and voluntarily return to captivity (one of several places in the book where it feels like Radcliffe had second thoughts). There is also the secret of the Black Veil, which is drawn out over the course of the novel to hold the reader in suspense, but whose revelation does not justify 400 pages of buildup. Ultimately I found Udolpho, despite its many effective scenes, to be a less-taut reworking of the elements of The Romance of the Forest.

Biggest disappointment:

Patricia Highsmith: Ripley Under Ground (1970; Everyman's Library, 1999)

I first read Patricia Highsmith's The Talented Mr. Ripley (1955) and its sequels about 20 years ago, and found their portrait of the psychopathic Tom Ripley to be weirdly compelling. Over the course of the five Ripley novels—The Talented Mr. Ripley was followed by Ripley Under Ground (1970), Ripley's Game (1974), The Boy Who Followed Ripley (1980), and Ripley Under Water (1991)—we see Ripley treating everyone he meets as either a means to an end (money, pleasure) or as a threat to be eliminated.

When I found the omnibus Everyman edition of the first three Ripley novels at a library sale, I thought it might be time to revisit the series. And at first I wasn't disappointed: The Talented Mr. Ripley largely held up. There are some unlikely phone conversations between friends of the missing Dickie Greenleaf and Ripley masquerading as Dickie; are Dickie's and Ripley's voices really so much alike? But Highsmith's brilliant technique is to make Ripley her protagonist, so that our readerly identification is with, and our anxiety centered on, a brutal and amoral murderer.

Ripley Underground does enrich Ripley's world: we see him at his obsessively tasteful French country house, Belle Ombre, and learn of his ornamental, rich, bisexual and (probably) promiscuous French wife, Heloise (she is said to have her own "adventures" among her circle of friends). In her absolute self-involvement she seems the perfect complement to Ripley (and suspicions of his criminality may play a role in her attraction to him).

The plot centers on the threatened exposure of art forgery ring that Ripley has masterminded. But implausibilities abound, including oddly incurious police, a rudimentary but magically effective disguise, a miraculous escape from under two tons of wet earth, and the transportation of a blackened, bloody chunk of human remains to prove a death—an act that would surely result in immediate arrest. It feels as though Highsmith simply could not be bothered to imagine more convincing action. In particular, the cremation scene seems to exist primarily to rub the reader's face in gruesomeness; further evidence that Ripley is immune from ordinary feelings of horror or revulsion is hardly needed at this point. A big step down from the first novel in the series.

NONFICTION

Devoney Looser: The Making of Jane Austen (Johns Hopkins University Press, 2017)

All of Jane Austen's novels issued during her lifetime were published anonymously, and in their initial appearance achieved only modest success. After her death in 1817 her novels went out of print until the 1830s. And yet today, as scholar Claire Harman wrote in her own book on the posthumous creation of Austen's reputation, Jane's Fame (Henry Holt, 2009), "her six completed novels are among the best-known, best-loved, most-read works in the English language" (p. xv). How did this happen? 

Devoney Looser's The Making of Jane Austen traces her reception and adaptation from the first republication of her novels in the 1830s to modern-day film and television dramatizations. Along the way Looser identifies the first female illustrator of Austen's novels, tracks down a photo of the all-female cast of an 1899 theatrical performance of Pride and Prejudice at Wellesley College, documents the admiration of Austen by the suffragists, and highlights the irony that the suffragists' fiercest opponents were the Austen-loving conservative men who called themselves Janeites. Highly entertaining and informative.

Anne Lister: I Know My Own Heart: The Diaries of Anne Lister, [1816–1824,], Helena Whitbread, ed. (Virago, 1988/2010 (as The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister)).

Anne Lister: No Priest But Love: Excerpts from the Diaries of Anne Lister, 1824–1826, Helena Whitbread, ed. (New York University Press, 1992).

In 1970 Dr. Phyllis Ramsden, a scholar who had been working for over a decade on the diaries of 19th-century Halifax landowner Anne Lister, published an article in the Transactions of the Halifax Antiquarian Society covering the entire period of the diaries as then known, "Anne Lister's Journal (1817-1840)." The diaries included extensive sections written in code, which Ramsden deciphered and asserted were "excruciatingly tedious to the modern mind. . .and of no historical interest whatever."

Her assertion was contradicted by Helena Whitbread's (re-)discovery and first publication of decoded excerpts from Anne Lister's diaries. They revealed that Lister had engaged in numerous short-term sexual relationships and long-term affairs with many of her female friends and acquaintances, single and married, starting in boarding school and continuing until her untimely death at age 49. While juggling multiple lovers, Lister also managed her estate, engaged in business and politics, and travelled the world (or at least Europe, Russia and the Caucasus). She was a fascinating woman, and for those interested in her—and who wouldn't be?—Whitbread's books are the place to start, in terms both of scholarly precedence and of the chronology of Lister's life.

Emma Donoghue: Passions Between Women: British Lesbian Culture 1668–1801 (HarperCollins, 1993)

Emma Donoghue: Inseparable: Desire Between Women in Literature (Cleis, 2010)

Anne Lister is often called "the first modern lesbian." But Emma Donoghue's Passions Between Women and Inseparable offer abundant evidence that in the 18th century (and earlier, and later) there were many women who adopted men's clothing and prerogatives and/or lived more-or-less openly with their female lovers.

In fact, Anne Lister was aware of and even visited one such couple: the Ladies of Llangollen, Sarah Ponsonby and the Lady Eleanor Butler. The Ladies were Irish cousins who, in 1778, had donned men's clothes and eloped together. Pursued, recaptured, and separated by their families, they were ultimately able to win the freedom to move to Wales and live together. By the 1820s they were celebrities, and Anne Lister viewed them as a model of the sort of life she had hoped to lead with her longtime married lover Mariana Lawton. Anne wrote of the Ladies' relationship her diary, "I cannot help thinking that surely it was not platonic. Heaven forgive me, but I look within myself & doubt. I. . .hesitate to pronounce such attachments uncemented by something more tender still than friendship." Donoghue's books are filled with examples of women (both real and fictional) whose attachments to other women were more tender than friendship, outlining a hidden history of lesbian lives and representations.

Celeste Bell and Zoë Howe: Dayglo: The Poly Styrene Story (Omnibus Press, 2019)

In my 2011 memorial post on Poly Styrene I wrote, "As a teenager she was the lead singer and songwriter for one of the best punk bands ever, X-Ray Spex. She was a nonconformist even among the rebels and misfits of punk rock: she was short, wore braces, wasn't rail-thin, designed her own clothes (often in bright colors, an anomaly in punk), and was multi-racial. She was smart, wickedly funny (her lyrics are great), and absolutely electrifying onstage. Her voice was and will remain unforgettable."

Dayglo is a biographical narrative that draws on journal entries, interviews, and Celeste Bell's memories of growing up as the daughter of a brilliant but troubled artist who devoted the last three decades of her life to the Hare Krishna sect. Richly illustrated with photographs, posters, and lyric sheets, the bulk of the book focuses on the astonishing three years between X-Ray Spex's formation in early 1976 and its breakup in 1979, including the writing and recording of the single "Oh Bondage, Up Yours!" and the album Germ-Free Adolescents (both utterly essential records). It also fills in details of the "missing" years between 1981 and her reunion with the band in the final years of her life. An excellent print companion to Bell and Howe's compelling documentary film Poly Styrene: I Am A Cliché (2021), which will feature in my Favorites of 2022: Movies and television.

From the Kowalski brothers' D.0.A.: A Rite of Passage (1980), Poly Styrene leading X-Ray Spex in the rehearsal studio and in concert:

https://youtu.be/31AVd-zCe2Q?t=30

Honorable Mention:

Kelefa Sanneh: Major Labels: A History of Popular Music in Seven Genres (Penguin, 2021)

Kelefa Sanneh's book appears at a time when genre may no longer define how popular music is made or heard, at least by people who came of age with YouTube (founded 2005), Spotify (founded 2006), and TikTok (founded 2016). The genres Sanneh chooses as his focus are rock, R&B, country, punk, hip-hop, dance, and "pop," each of which receives a separate chapter. Of course, entire books can be (and have been) written about each of these genres, so Sanneh can only provide a broad overview of each. He is an excellent, thoughtful guide to a huge range of music: his taste is broad, and he has interesting things to say about each of the genres he covers.

However, I think his book inadvertently illustrates the truism that the popular music we listen to from the time we enter our teen years (when many of us first start developing our own tastes) until the time we're exiting young adulthood 15 or 20 years later (by which time our tastes have become more-or-less fixed) remains the most emotionally resonant for us. The two most energetic, engaged chapters of Major Labels focus on punk and rap, two genres that were achieving a second (or third) flowering in the late 1980s and early 1990s when Sanneh was a teenager.

In Major Labels developments of recent decades get much more attention than those of the more distant past. For some genres (pop, for example) he omits much of their history and focuses on songwriters, bands and styles that emerged after he started listening around 1985. Another odd omission for a history of popular music: Sanneh doesn't discuss in detail the exploitative economics of the music industry, which have come to the fore once again in recent years as it has become clear that streaming services pay to artists an infinitesimal fraction of the value of their music. It's a rich subject that Sanneh avoids almost entirely.

The sections of the book that deal with his own experiences and enthusiasms are highly engaging. I recommend Major Labels for its useful overviews of the past few decades' worth of developments in popular music, and especially for the experiences of a music obsessive who became a thoughtful critic for cultural arbiters such as the New York Times and the New Yorker at a time of fundamental change in the music industry. For in-depth analysis of specific musical artists and time periods, I'd suggest looking elsewhere.

For additional comments and a comparison of the Billboard Top 10 charts for 2021 and 1981, please see my full-length post on Major Labels. If you're interested, the post contains my personal list of the Top 20 songs of 1981, with links; click them while they're still working.

Other Favorites of 2022:

• Recordings
• Performances
• Movies and television

Favorites of 2022: Live and streamed performances

Jasmine Johnson as Andromaca in Leonardo Vinci's Astinatte. Photo credit: Valentina Sadiul. Image source: OperaWire

Favorite live and streamed performances seen in the past 12 months, in reverse chronological order by date of performance:

LIVE OPERA AND ORATORIO

Ars Minerva: Astianatte
ODC Theater, San Francisco, seen October 23, 2022

Jasmine Johnson as Andromaca and Anthony Polakoff as Astianatte. Photo credit: Valentina Sadiul. Image source: San Francisco Classical Voice

Leonardo Vinci's Astianatte (1725) is packed with high drama: in the aftermath of the Trojan War, the victorious Greeks begin to squabble among themselves while the captive Trojan widow Andromaca (Jasmine Johnson) desperately tries to save her son Astianatte (Anthony Polakoff) from execution. Meanwhile, there's a long-simmering love triangle between the Greeks Pirro (Deborah Martinez Rosengaus), Oreste (Nikola Printz), and Ermione (Aura Veruni), who was once in love with Oreste but is now betrothed to Pirro.

Vinci wrote Astianatte for four of the greatest singers in the world. Any company seeking to revive it needs four superlative singers, a requirement that Céline Ricci's Ars Minerva decidedly fulfilled. Musically this was also Ars Minerva's largest-scale production to date, with 14-piece period-instrument chamber orchestra conducted by Matthew Dirst accompanying the singers. The staging was enhanced by Marina Polakoff's sculptural costumes, Ricci's clever direction, Entropy's scene-setting projections and Delayne Medoff's evocative lighting. Ars Minerva surpasses itself with every production.

For more information and full credits, please see the post "Ars Minerva: Astianatte."

American Bach Soloists: Belshazzar
Herbst Theater, San Francisco, seen July 30, 2022

Maya Kherani, Belshazzar's mother Nitocris in American Bach Soloists' performance of Handel's Belshazzar. Image source: MayaKherani.com

ABS Artistic Director Jeffrey Thomas assembled an excellent cast for a concert performance of Handel's rarely-performed oratorio. During the feast of the Babylonian god Sesach mysterious writing appears on the wall: "Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin." The Babylonian king Belshazzar (tenor Matthew Hill) calls his wise men, but none can decipher the meaning. Only the Jewish prophet Daniel (the rich-voiced mezzo-soprano Sarah Coit) can interpret the words, and the news is not good for Belshazzar. Belshazzar's mother Nitocris (pure-toned soprano Maya Kherani) urges him not to offend the god of Daniel, but Belshazzar scorns her. Meanwhile, as the Babylonians eat and drink, a Persian army under Cyrus (countertenor Eric Jurenas) has diverted the Euphrates and enters the city using the now-dry riverbed.

The libretto was written by Charles Jennens, who most famously compiled the libretto of Messiah. In his classic book Handel's Dramatic Oratorios and Masques (Oxford University Press, 1959), Winton Dean calls the three months during the summer of 1744 in which Handel simultaneously composed Belshazzar and Hercules "the peak of Handel's creative life"—quite an assertion for a writer who is well aware that between January and April 1735 Handel premiered Ariodante and Alcina (my votes for Handel's peak three months, but then who am I?). Thomas and his first-rate cast made a compelling case for Belshazzar as one of the pinnacles of Handel's musical achievement.

For more information and full credits, please see the American Bach Soloists program.

Honorable mention:

San Francisco Opera: Eugene Onegin, Dialogues of the Carmelites, and Orpheus and Eurydice

General Director Matthew Shilvock's programming for this centennial SF Opera season has been remarkably daring: of the eight operas in the fall and summer season, two are receiving their world premieres in 2022 (John Adams' Anthony and Cleopatra and Gabriela Lena Frank's Frida y Diego). Of the remaining operas, Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin was last performed at SF Opera in 2004, Richard Strauss's Die Frau Ohne Schatten (The Woman Without a Shadow) in 1989, Poulenc's Dialogues des Carmélites in 1982, and Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice not since its SF Opera premiere in 1959. Even the two more recently performed operas (Verdi's La Traviata, last performed in 2017, and Puccini's Madama Butterfly, last performed in 2016) are being given new productions.

We attended three of the fall operas in the War Memorial Opera House. Each featured excellent singers, some known to us and some new; a striking (if occasionally problematic) production design; and the glorious SF Opera Orchestra in the pit. So why aren't these performances firmly among my favorites?

Evgenia Muraveva as Tatiana Larina in Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin at SF Opera. Photo credit: Cory Weaver. Image source: Opera Today

Eugene Onegin was presented in the Robert Carsen production, which surrounds center stage with fallen autumn leaves and frames the action as the memory of the devastated Onegin. It's generally effective; least so, perhaps, in the Letter Scene, which has Tatiana rolling around in dead leaves to express ecstasy about her blossoming first love. (I know: how pathetically literal of me.) But the main problem is that this production (now 25 years old) was filmed in 2007 with a well-nigh ideal Onegin in Dmitri Hvorostovsky and the glamorous Tatiana of Renée Fleming. Comparisons are impossible to avoid, and at SF Opera on September 25 both Gordon Bintner's Onegin and Evgenia Muraveva's Tatiana lacked vocal charisma. Their final confrontation, which should be emotionally wrenching, never caught dramatic fire. When singers in secondary roles such as Aigul Akhmetshina as Tatiana's sister Olga and Evan Leroy Johnson as Onegin's friend Lensky outshine the principals, something is seriously amiss.

For more information about the opera, including the parallels between the story and Tchaikovsky's life, please see the post "Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin - The Letter."

Michaela Schuster as the Prioress Madame de Croissy and Heidi Stober as the novice Blanche de la Force in Francis Poulenc's Dialogues des Carmélites at SF Opera. Photo credit: Cory Weaver. Image source: Air Mail

Dialogues of the Carmelites, seen October 30, portrays the Martyrs of Compiègne, 16 women of the Carmelite religious order who were executed by guillotine in July 1794. The opera had its U.S. premiere at SF Opera in 1957 in English translation. As the title implies, Poulenc's music is largely conversational and follows the rhythms of speech. Song is used at the very end, as the women intone the "Salve Regina" and one by one are silenced by the guillotine. It's a powerful scene. Unfortunately in Olivier Py's production it verges on kitsch, as from our vantage point in the dress circle each of the white-clad women in turn descended off the back of the stage and then, with outstretched arms, appeared to float away into the starry sky (like angels? Please tell me I'm wrong).

Py made some other odd directorial choices, such as regularly shining spotlights into the faces of the audience. The Prioress's death scene midway through the opera is staged on a bed placed upright, as though we were looking down on her (and, of course, as though she is being crucified). It's a visually arresting image, but it makes the characters witnessing her torment seem as though they are standing perpendicularly on the walls or lying on the floor. (I know: how pathetically literal of me.)

For more information and full credits, please see the San Francisco Opera press release.

Jakub Jósef Orlinski as Orpheus in Gluck's Orfeo ed Euridice at SF Opera. Photo credit: Cory Weaver. Image source: San Francisco Chronicle

Orpheus and Eurydice, seen November 20, was performed in Gluck's 1762 Italian version. Gluck never anticipated, though, that when the curtain rose Orpheus would enact the frenzy of grief by performing jaw-droppingly athletic breakdancing moves. Countertenor Jakub Jósef Orlinski also trained as a dancer, and seeing him do flips, spinning handstands, windmills, swipes, and backspins was astonishing. (My partner thought that we were watching an SF Opera dancer, until he started singing. Don't ask me how he managed not to be completely out of breath.)

The stage was a vast circle, with Alexander V. Nichols' projections of brain images delineating Orpheus' journey through the underworld to recover Eurydice. The projections were quite vivid, but changed so frequently that I found them distracting—at times it was like watching a psychedelic light show. And director Matthew Ozawa ignored the implications of one of Nichols' most striking images: when the stage apparently split apart at the moment of Euridice's second death, Ozawa had Euridice lying suspended over the newly-opened abyss and Orpheus kneeling next to her in empty space, instead of having them separated on either side of the chasm. (I know: how pathetically literal of me.)

But staging miscalculations aside, Orlinski's voice got a bit lost in the vast War Memorial Opera House, built for Verdi and Puccini rather than 18th-century operas (the Burgtheater in Vienna, where Gluck's opera had its first performance, is one-third the size of the War Memorial). Although both Meigul Zhang's Euridice and Nicole Heaston's Amore were outstanding, Orpheus must carry the opera. His voice, of course, is supposed to be so irresistible that it can "placate the Furies, monsters, and pitiless Death." This isn't just a matter of volume, and the beauty of Orlinski's voice would probably have been more apparent in a suitably-sized theater (hello, Glyndebourne).

Still, Matthew Shilvock's adventurous programming choices are welcomed; I'm looking forward to the 2023-24 season announcement in January. For more information and full credits for Orpheus and Eurydice please see the San Francisco Opera press release.

STREAMED OPERA

Glyndebourne Encore: Les Mamelles de Tirésias

Elsa Benoit as Therèse and Régis Mengus as the Husband in Poulenc's Les Mamelles de Tirésias. Laurent Pelly, direction and costume design (in collaboration with Jean-Jacques Delmotte), Caroline Ginet, set design. Photo credit: Bill Cooper. Image source: Glyndebourne

In Aristophanes' Lysistrata women go on a sex strike to force men to end war. In Poulenc's Les Mamelles de Tirésias (The Breasts of Tiresias, 1947), put-upon wife Thèrese goes the women of ancient Greece one better: she changes gender entirely. Discarding her breasts (which then, as huge pink balloons, float over the proceedings) and becoming Tirésias, she flees her importunate Husband. Left wifeless, he dons a corset and answers the call of the State for procreation by inventing an elaborate machine to produce 40,049 babies.

Members of the Glyndebourne Chorus in Poulenc's Les Mamelles de Tirésias. Photo credit: Bill Cooper. Image source: The Guardian

Laurent Pelly's production of Poulenc's adaptation of Guillaume Apollinaire's surrealist farce keeps the brilliant visual ideas coming so fast you'll want to rewatch the opera to be sure you catch them all. No matter—you'll want to rewatch the opera anyway for sheer pleasure.

For more information and full credits please see Glyndebourne Encore.

Boston Baroque: Amadigi di Gaula

Anthony Roth Costanzo as Amadis of Gaul. Image source: Boston Baroque.

Handel's 11th opera, Amadigi di Gaula, unusually has only four main characters; also unusually, half of them lie dead by the end of the opera. The sorceress Melissa (Amanda Forsythe) has abducted Oriana (Camilla Ortiz); Oriana's lover Amadigi (Anthony Roth Costanzo) attempts to rescue her with the aid of Dardano (Daniella Mack), who comes to realize that he and Amadigi are rivals for Oriana's affections. (The original cast featured the castrato Nicolini as Amadigi, the soprano Anastasia Robinson as Oriana, and alto Diana Vico as Dardano.) Amadigi's relatively small scale and straightforward story made it a perfect choice for Boston Baroque's semi-staging directed by Louisa Muller, and the cast assembled by music director Martin Pearlman would be the envy of any opera house.

For more information, please see Boston Baroque.

Honorable mention:

Glyndebourne Encore: Alcina

Jane Archibald as Alcina at Glyndebourne. Photo credit: Tristram Kenton. Image source: Glyndebourne

Perhaps inspired by all the cross-dressing in Baroque opera, director Francesco Micheli set Handel's Alcina in a 1960s nightclub, its own kind of enchanted island. The sorceress Alcina (Jane Archibald) is the owner/headliner, assisted by Morgana (Soraya Mafi). Ruggiero (Samantha Hankey) is a besotted customer whose fiancée Bradamante (Beth Taylor), in male disguise as "Ricciardo," attempts to bring him back to his former life and prior commitments (meanwhile causing Morgana, who is attracted to this handsome stranger, some erotic confusion).

The nightclub setting allows set designer Edoardo Sanchi and costume designer Alessio Rosati to give free range to their imaginations, as seen in Alcina's "shipwreck" number above. But as a metaphor for Alcina's magic island it also lowers the stakes. The opera is no longer a fierce contest between good and, well, less good, or a devastating depiction of the inexorable loss of love. Instead it becomes a parable of the "tragedy of development," in Marshall Berman's term, as (spoiler alert!) property developers close Alcina's nightclub in order to build more faceless high-rise offices. The cast is very good, but without a sense that life and death issues are at stake some urgency is lost.

For more information, please see Glyndebourne Encore.

Biggest disappointment:

Glyndebourne Encore: La Bohème

Yaritza Véliz as Mimì and Sehoon Moon as Rodolfo in Puccini's La Bohème at Glyndebourne. Floris Visser, direction, Dieuweke Van Reij, set design. Photo credit: Richard Hubert Smith. Image source: Glyndebourne

Or, as my partner and I refer to it, "La Bohème in an alley." We made it about halfway through Act I before the multiple absurdities and heavy-handed symbolism of Floris Visser's direction—literally, La Bohème in a grave-like alley, with a silent actor looking on representing, yes, Death—drove us to put on a DVD of the 1965 La Scala production directed by Franco Zeffirelli and starring the young Mirella Freni as a touchingly vulnerable Mimì. (And before you sneer at our hidebound traditionalism, we also like Baz Luhrman's "Paris in the 50's" production for Opera Australia and are intrigued by Yuval Sharon's "backwards Bohème" for Boston Lyric Opera.) No fault of the young cast, who gamely gave it their best. This is the first new production of La Bohème at Glyndebourne in two decades, but let us hope that this will be its only Festival run.

For more information, please see Glyndebourne Encore.

STREAMED CONCERT AND RECITAL

Boston Early Music Festival: Vox Luminis

Vox Luminis; director Lionel Meunier second from left. Image source: BEMF.org

Vox Luminis, led by director Lionel Meunier, performed a program of sacred music from Monteverdi's Selva morale e spirituale (The Moral and Spiritual Forest) with astonishing precision, blend, and beauty. This concert will be available to watch until December 2, 2022. For more information, please see BEMF.org.

Boston Early Music Festival: Philippe Jaroussky

Philippe Jaroussky and Le Concert de la Loge at the Royaumont Abbey.

In place of the live BEMF concert offering of Baroque opera arias performed by Jaroussky and his Ensemble Artaserse, the virtual program was a recorded performance of sacred music by Vivaldi, Pergolesi and Scarlatti recorded at the Royaumont Abbey in 2020. Ravishing music ravishingly performed by Jaroussky and Le Concert de la Loge. For more information, please see BEMF.org.

Other Favorites of 2022:

• Recordings
• Books
• Movies and television

Favorites of 2022: Recordings

As we approach the end of the year it's time once again for me to choose my favorites, starting with recordings first heard in the past twelve months. The order within each category is roughly chronological by period of composition.

SECULAR AND SACRED MUSIC

Hispania & Japan: Dialogues. Montserrat Figueras (soprano), Prabhu Edouard (tabla), Ken Zuckerman (sarod), Yukio Tanaka (voice, biwa), Masaka Hirao (viola da gamba tenor), Hiroyuki Koinuma (shinobue, nokan), Ichiro Seki (shakuhachi); La Capella Reial de Catalunya, Hesperion XXI, Jordi Savall, direction. Alia Vox AVSA9883 (recorded 2006-2007; released 2011).

Image source: Presto Music

The impetus for this recording is "to create a true dialogue between the spiritual music of Japan and the Hispanic world at the time of St. Francis Xavier's arrival in Japan" in 1549. Some of the tracks are 16th-century liturgical music performed by Hesperion XXI and La Capella Reial de Catalunya, while others are traditional Japanese pieces performed by the Japanese musicians. There are also improvisations on the plainchant "O Gloriosa Domina" by (separately) the Japanese and European musicians. In commemoration of the time St. Francis spent in India before and after his sojourn in Japan, Montserrat Figueras performs the devotional villancico "Senhora del Mundo" (Sovereign Lady of the World) accompanied by sarod and tabla. It is all utterly mesmerizing, and recommended even if you share my general skepticism of fusion projects.

Improvisation on "O Glorioso Domina" by Ichiro Seki (shakuhachi):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oAWFYoQhvws

Salve Regina: Leo, Pergolesi, Porpora. Federica Napoletani (soprano); Ensemble Imaginaire, Cristina Corrieri, conductor. Brilliant Classics 96092 (recorded 2018; released 2020).

Image source: Presto Music

Nicola Porpora (born 1686), Leonardo Leo (born 1694), and Giovanni Pergolesi (born 1710) were all composers who received their early training in Naples. Each composed both operas and sacred music, and operatic style is sometimes apparent in these settings of Salve Regina. This Marian hymn is sung during services in the six months between Pentecost and Advent; because it was so frequently performed, composers (including these three) often produced multiple versions. The settings are stylistically varied, and so there is no flagging of interest despite each version setting the same text. In addition, two of the settings (Porpora's and Pergolesi's) are world premiere recordings. Federica Napoletani has a lovely soprano, and, together with Ensemble Imaginaire, elegantly meets the technical and interpretive challenges of these works.

The first movement of Nicola Porpora's Salve regina in G Major:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TyTCbHyX7f0

Pardessus de Viole: Barrière, Caix D'Hervelois, Boismortier, Dollé. Mélisande Corriveau (pardessus de viole), Eric Milnes (clavecin). ATMA Classique ACD2 2729 (recorded 2015; released 2016).

Image source: Presto Music

The pardessus de viole is the smallest and highest-pitched viola da gamba; its name means "higher than the treble viol." It was developed in the late 17th and early 18th centuries, and was considered more seemly for women to play because it was held upright on the lap rather than gripped between the legs. Its range overlapped with that of the violin, but the playing position of the violin (tucked underneath the chin) was thought to be inelegant for women; in 1748 Michel Corrette wrote that "ladies shall play the pardessus with five strings and never the violin, as the position involved in playing the violin in no way suits them." The pardessus thus became known as "le violon des femmes," or women's violin, although men also played it.

La joyeuse de pardessus de viol by Jean-Baptiste Perronneau, mid-18th century. Image source: Musica Picta on Tumblr

Composers responded to the fashion for the pardessus de viole by writing pieces specifically for the instrument, both for amateurs at varying levels of skill and for professional musicians. On this disc Mélisande Corriveau has selected works by four French composers for performance on a sweet-toned instrument dating from 1710 held in the Hart House Collection of the University of Toronto. Corriveau plays these virtuoso pieces not only with astonishing technical assurance but also with pleasing expressiveness. Eric Milnes provides discreet harpsichord accompaniment, but the focus, as it should be, is firmly on Corriveau. A wonderful way to discover a repertory that was new to us.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ER0CYHTQY7Y

A Night in London. Sandrine Piau (soprano), Lucille Richardot (mezzo-soprano); Pulcinella, Ophélie Gaillard, cello and direction. Aparté AP274 (recorded 2021; released 2022).

Image source: Presto Music

Cellist Ophélie Gaillard's album presents music that might have been encountered over the course of a single adventurous evening in London during the 1700s. As our imaginary listener moves from coffee house to concert hall to opera house to tavern, we hear music ranging from James Oswald's "She's Sweetest When She's Naked" to concert music by Avison, Geminiani, Porpora, Hasse, and Cirri, to an aria from Handel's Alcina, before ending with Oswald's "The Bottom of the Punch Bowl." From the cello, Gaillard directs the period-instrument chamber orchestra Pulcinella in the concerted pieces. While the music probably covers too wide temporal range (1720s to the 1760s) to have been plausibly encountered in a single evening, much of it was new to me and it is all impeccably performed by Gaillard, Pulcinella, and their guest vocalists.

James Oswald's "She's Sweetest When She's Naked" (solo version):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tyCuT_uJn8

Mr. Abel's Fine Airs. Susanne Heinrich (viola da gamba). Hyperion CDA67628 (recorded 2006; released 2007).

Image source: Presto Music

The music historian Charles Burney (father of Jane Austen's favorite novelist Fanny Burney) attended many of Carl Friedrich Abel's London concerts, and wrote, "His performance on the viol da gamba was in every particular complete and perfect. He had a hand which no difficulties could embarrass; a taste the most refined and delicate; and a judgment so correct and certain, as never to let a single note escape him without meaning." On this recording Heinrich performs Abel's Sonata in G major, together with 20 relatively brief pieces for solo viola da gamba from a manuscript of Abel's works once owned by the painter Thomas Gainsborough, later purchased by the financier Joseph Drexel, and now held by the New York Public Library. Her approach is beautifully measured, reflective, and inward. There is another wonderful recording of 29 of the pieces from the Drexel Manuscript by Paolo Pandolfo in which he plays them in a more extroverted and exuberant style, but Heinrich's is the recording we found ourselves returning to more often. For my full-length post on Carl Abel, please see "Exuberance and profound sweetness."

Listen to extracts from the album (Hyperion Records)

OPERA

Maria Teresa Agnesi: Arias from the opera Sofonisba. Elena De Simone (mezzo-soprano); Ensemble Il Mosaico. Tactus TC 720102 (recorded 2019; released 2021).

Image source: Presto Music

From my full-length post "African Queen: Sofonisba" (slightly edited): Maria Teresa Agnesi was born in 1720 to a wealthy merchant family in Milan, a city which was then a part of the Austrian Habsburg Empire. There were two exceptionally gifted daughters in the family: Maria Teresa in music and her older sister Maria Gaetana in mathematics and philosophy. Their father held regular gatherings in their home during which Maria Gaetana would give talks and debate with learned men, and Maria Teresa would perform. An admiring account from 1739, when Maria Teresa was 18, reports that she played harpsichord pieces by Rameau and accompanied herself as she sang arias of her own composition.

Maria Teresa Agnesi, artist and date unknown. La Scala Museum. Image source: Pinterest

A decade or so later she composed La Sofonisba, an opera seria about the (possibly mythological) African queen. Betrothed to the Eastern Numidian prince Massinissa, Sofonisba is instead forced by her father to marry Siface (Syphax), the Western Numidian king with whom Hasdrubal wishes to make an anti-Roman alliance. Stung by Sofonisba's marriage to his rival, Massinissa revolts against Siface and joins forces with the Roman general Scipio. Together they defeat Hasdrubal and Siface in battle, taking as prisoners both Siface and his wife. Ultimately, rejecting her husband, abandoned by the man she loves, and facing dishonor, Sofonisba consumes poison and dies.

No printed libretto for the opera survives, and so the poet is unknown. The work exists in a single copy: the presentation score that was sent to Vienna for the name-day of the Empress Maria Theresa, 15 October (also the name-day of the composer). The score is not dated, but it is likely to have been completed in the late 1740s; it is dedicated to the Holy Roman Emperor Francis I, Maria Theresa's husband, who was elevated to that office in 1745. There are no performance markings in the presentation score, but it would not have been used in an actual production (copies would have been made). However, the absence of any performance parts, printed libretto, or record of a production makes it seem unlikely that the opera was ever performed.

Title page of La Sofonisba by Maria Teresa Agnesi. Image source: Österreichische Nationalbibliothek

We might speculate that one reason for a lack of performance could be the apparently odd choice of a subject for a celebration of the Empress's name-day. After all, Sofonisba is forced to marry a man she doesn't love, is militarily defeated, held captive, and commits suicide. But Sofonisba's choice of death rather than dishonor places her in the company of other noble women from antiquity who were extolled for their courage, such as Dido and Cleopatra.

Like Dido and Cleopatra, Sofonisba ruled in North Africa. And this, along with the role's low vocal range, suggests that the opera may have been intended as a vehicle for the contralto Vittoria Tesi Tramontini, the first Black prima donna, who by the late 1740s was living in Vienna.

Tesi, the daughter of an African servant at the Medici court in Florence, was known as "La Moretta," the Dark One (she was also known as "La Fiorentina"—The Florentine—and "La Tesi"). Born in 1700, she first appeared onstage in 1716. Over the course of her four-decade career she appeared in theaters throughout Italy, Austria and Germany with colleagues such as mezzo-soprano Margherita Durastanti and the castrati Farinelli, Senesino and Caffarelli.

On the album Arie dall'opera Sofonisba the mezzo-soprano Elena De Simone, accompanied by the ensemble Il Mosaico, performs seven arias from Agnesi's Sofonisba, plus its Licenza, or celebratory epilogue in honor of Maria Theresa; De Simone also edited the performance score. As a listening experience the album is highly recommendable: De Simone has a rich, low voice that easily encompasses the wide vocal and emotional range of Sofonisba's arias, and Il Mosaico offers excellent support (and the natural trumpets used in two of the arias have a nicely pungent tone). The record would be valuable alone for showcasing the under-celebrated work of Agnesi and Tesi, but the high quality of the performances means that it will recommend itself to all lovers of Baroque opera.

Elena De Simone. Image source: MusicVoice.it

Sofonisba's aria "Dubbia ancor" from Act I, Scene 2:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KqP8GFTdumo

Gioachino Rossini: Early Operas: La cambiale di matrimonio (The marriage contract, 1810); La scala di seta (The silk ladder, 1812); L'occasione fa il ladro (Opportunity makes the thief, 1812); Il signor Bruschino (1813); Il barbiere di Siviglia (The barber of Seville, 1816). Monica Bacelli, Cecilia Bartoli, Alessandro Corbelli, Carlos Feller, David Kuebler, and others; Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Gabriele Ferro (Il barbiere di Siviglia) and Gianluigi Gelmetti; staged by Michael Hampe and directed for video by Claus Viller. EuroArts/Schwetzingen SWR Festspiele (recorded 1988-1992; re-released 2022); 5 DVDs.

Image source: Euroarts

A shocking confession: when I went to see the January 2004 San Francisco Opera production of Rossini's Il barbiere di Siviglia (The Barber of Seville) featuring Matthew Polenzani as Count Almaviva/Lindoro, Thomas Hampson as Figaro, and Joyce DiDonato as Rosina, I left at intermission (to the astonishment of my standing-room mates). I wasn't dissatisfied. Quite the opposite: I was thoroughly satisfied, but I had reached my Rossini saturation point.

My tastes definitely skew toward Baroque and Classical opera; for me, Rossini marks the boundary between operas I'm passionate about and those that (with a few exceptions) I can live without. Rossini is not Mozart. [1]

So this collection of Rossini's early comedies (written when he was between the ages of 18 and 24) seems designed to appeal to me. Only Il barbiere has a second act; all the others are one-acts that clock in at around 90 minutes—the perfect amount of Rossini, as far as I'm concerned. The characters are somewhat stock, as are the situations, and Rossini often falls back on patter songs to draw laughs (works on me every time. . .for 90 minutes). But all the operas succeed admirably as breezy entertainments that don't overstay their welcome. And each is staged in a straightforward (but effective) way by Michael Hampe in the Rococo jewel box Schwetzingen Palace Theatre.

Schwetzingen Palace Theatre. Image source: visit-schwetzingen.de

Despite its expansion into a second act, Il barbiere di Siviglia is a key attraction of this set because it features a 21-year-old Cecilia Bartoli in one of her first starring roles as Rosina, a young woman held as a virtual prisoner by her elderly, lecherous guardian. But each opera is cast with exceptional character singers who know how to bring out all the comedy (and even some pathos) without relying too heavily on schtick.

Rosina's Act I aria "Una voce poco fa" ("A voice heard a moment ago." Apologies for the poor video resolution and audio quality; the new DVDs are much better):

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVFtLh08mcM

Honorable mention:

John Frederick Lampe: The Dragon of Wantley (1737). Mary Bevan (soprano, Margery), Catherine Carby (mezzo-soprano, Mauxalinda), Mark Wilde (tenor, Moore of Moore Hall), John Savournin (bass, Gaffer Gubbins/The Dragon); The Brook Street Band, John Andrews, conductor. Resonus RES10304 (recorded 2021; released 2022).

Image source: Presto Music

Some music historians claim that John Gay's The Beggar's Opera (1728) doomed Italian opera in London. However, in the decade after The Beggar's Opera ended its lengthy initial run Handel produced some of his greatest works, including Partenope (1730), Orlando (1733), Ariodante (1735), Alcina (1735), and Serse (1738). 

A more plausible culprit is John Frederick Lampe's The Dragon of Wantley (1737). Lampe was a bassoonist in Handel's orchestra and had thoroughly absorbed Handel's style. From its martial overture to its sung recitative, da capo arias and fugal choruses, The Dragon of Wantley parodied the conventions of opera seria with music that was "as grand and pompous as possible" (according to librettist Henry Carey's preface).

Carey's libretto was based on an old comic ballad published by Thomas D’Urfey in Pills to Purge Melancholy (1699). The ballad tells the story of a dragon that terrorizes South Yorkshire until a knight (Moore of Moore Hall), clad in spiked armour, kills it by kicking its behind (literally), its only vulnerable spot.

"Moore fighting with ye Dragon." From Bickham's Musical Entertainer, Vol. II, C. Corbett, London, 1740, p. 32. Digitized by University of Western Ontario - University of Toronto Libraries. Image source: Internet Archive

Carey added the characters of Gaffer Gubbin (a gaffer is a rustic old man), his daughter Margery, and Margery's rival for Moore's affections, Mauxalinda (a maux is a slattern).

The dragon satirizes the corpulent Sir Robert Walpole, whose Whig government had proposed increasing taxes on wine and tobacco and recently succeeded in raising the tax on gin (riots resulted). Gubbin sings, "What wretched havoc does this Dragon make! / He sticks at nothing for his Belly's sake / Feeding but makes his Appetite the stronger / He'll eat us all if he bides here much longer!"

Margery leads the townspeople to Moore Hall to demand that Moore vanquish the dragon. He agrees if she'll give him a kiss, exciting the jealousy of his mistress Mauxalinda; the two women trade insults in a duet that pokes fun at Handel's Rival Queens Faustina Bordoni and Francesca Cuzzoni.

"Moore Coaxing Mauxalinda." From Bickham's Musical Entertainer, Vol. II, C. Corbett, London, 1740, p. 12. Digitized by University of Western Ontario - University of Toronto Libraries. Image source: Internet Archive

Finally, after donning his armour Moore is ready to sally forth and battle the beast. "But first I'll drink, to make me strong and mighty / Six Quarts of Ale, and one of Aqua Vitae." Thus fortified, he delivers his fatal kick, wins the love of Margery, and becomes the subject of a "Roratorio" (anticipating John Cage's Roaratorio by 240 years). 

"Moores Engagement to Margery." From Bickham's Musical Entertainer, Vol. II, C. Corbett, London, 1740, p. 8. Digitized by University of Western Ontario - University of Toronto Libraries. Image source: Internet Archive

The Dragon of Wantley was a huge hit, running for 69 performances after its move in the fall of 1737 from the Little Theatre in the Haymarket to Covent Garden. This spelled disaster for Handel's opera season. Despite the presence of Caffarelli and La Francesina in the casts, both of his new operas for the 1737-1738 season failed: Faramondo ran for eight performances, and Serse only five. Over the next three seasons Handel would write only two more Italian operas (which together would only muster as many performances as Serse) before ceasing opera composition entirely.

Despite being the principal target of The Dragon of Wantley's parody, however, Handel praised Lampe's music. Lord Wentworth recorded, "I like it vastly & the music is excessive pretty, & tho' tis a burlesque on the opera's, yet Mr Handel owns he thinks the tunes very well compos'd."

The comedy is generated not only by the farcical action but by the contrast between the text and the elevated music. The excellent ensemble cast on this first professional recording deliver their lines with perfectly straight faces, and The Brook Band under conductor John Andrews gives a spirited performance. This just misses being a favorite in part because it has a tenor hero and in part because I'm not sure how often I'll need to hear it: farce works best with a laughing audience surrounding you. But applause to all concerned for helping to resurrect a significant work in English operatic history. If you're a fan of Handel's operas you'll want to give The Dragon of Wantley a listen.

The conclusion of Act II: "Fill the mighty Flagon / Then I'll kill this monstrous Dragon":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8c0C9132WPA

SEA SHANTIES (AND OTHER WORK SONGS)

Smoke & Oakum. The Longest Johns: Jonathan "JD" Darley (vocals, guitar), Dave Robinson (vocals, tin whistle), Robbie Sattin (vocals, harmonium, organ, harmonica) and Andy Yates (vocals, banjo). Decca 3876697 (released 2021).

Image source: Discogs.com

After singing sea shanties in close harmony for a decade in their home port of Bristol and around the UK, The Longest Johns had a fluke internet hit with "The Wellerman." That brought them a deal with Decca and (I'm guessing) some support for a North American tour, which gave us a chance to see them earlier this month half a world away from Bristol at the Great American Music Hall in San Francisco. It was a great show, even though for most of the set the band was down a man: Robbie Sattin couldn't get a visa in time. (He participated virtually in several of the songs and some of the between-numbers patter.) The band's mixture of traditional and original work songs invites singing along, and the enthusiastic audience did so with every tune.

From Smoke & Oakum, the Longest Johns' a capella arrangement of Ed Pickford's "The Workers Song":

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qDqzxHFNmq8

Other Favorites of 2022:

• Performances
• Books
• Movies and television

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1. On Exotic & Irrational Entertainment I have written posts on more than 60 operas. More than 40 of them were composed in the two centuries between 1600 and 1799, while only 10 were composed in the 1800s.
   
   For the record, the operas I've written about that premiered in the 1800s are:
   • Hector Berlioz, Les Troyens (The Trojans, 1858)
   • Félicien David, Lalla-Roukh (1862)
   • Gaetano Donizetti, Lucia di Lammermoor (1835)
   • Gaetano Donizetti, Maria Stuarda (1834)
   • Ruggero Leoncavallo, La Boheme (The Bohemians, 1897)
   • Jacques Offenbach, Les Contes d'Hoffmann (The Tales of Hoffmann, 1881)
   • Giacomo Puccini, La Bohème (The Bohemians, 1896; also discussed in The other Boheme)
   • Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, Eugene Onegin (1879)
   • Giuseppe Verdi, Aida (1861)
   • Giuseppe Verdi, La Traviata (The Lost One, 1853).
   Of these, only three—La Traviata, Aida, and Puccini's La Bohème—are among the "12 chestnuts" that are the core repertory of mainstream opera houses.

Ars Minerva: Astianatte

Jasmine Johnson as Andromaca in Leonardo Vinci's Astinatte, produced by Ars Minerva at ODC Theater, San Francisco, October 21-23, 2022. Photo credit: Valentina Sadiul. Image source: OperaWire

Leonardo Vinci's 1725 opera Astianatte (Astyanax) is packed with high drama. Antonio Salvi's libretto, adapted from Racine's tragedy Andromaque (1667), is set in the immediate aftermath of the Trojan war. Andromaca (Andromache) and her young son Astianatte have been abducted by the victorious Greeks. They are held captive by Pirro (Pyrrhus), the son of the Greek hero Achilles; Achilles slew the Trojan warrior Hector, Andromaca's husband and Astianatte's father.

Pirro is betrothed to Ermione (Hermione), but wants Andromaca instead. Ermione's former lover Oreste (Orestes) arrives with a message for Pirro from Ermione's father Menelaus: kill Astianatte to prevent him from growing up to take revenge against the Greeks. The only way Andromaca can protect Astianatte is to marry Pirro, the son of her husband's killer and a man she hates.

Jasmine Johnson as Andromaca and Anthony Polakoff as Astianatte. Photo credit: Valentina Sadiul. Image source: San Francisco Classical Voice

Meanwhile, although Oreste is still in love with Ermione, he must also deliver Menelaus' demand that Pirro wed her immediately or return her to Sparta. Backing up Menelaus' ultimatums, of course, is the threat of war. Ermione, stung that Pirro prefers an enslaved Trojan widow to a daughter of Helen, demands that Oreste revenge the slight against her honor.

Nikola Printz as Oreste and Aura Veruni as Ermione. Photo credit: Valentina Sadiul.

Vinci wrote Astianatte for four of the greatest singers in the world: the soprano castrato Farinelli (Oreste), contralto Diana Vico (Pirro), soprano Anna Maria Strada (Ermione), and contralto Vittoria Tesi (Andromaca), the first Black prima donna. Astianatte is a silent role, making this perhaps the only opera named after a character that doesn't sing. Any company seeking to revive it needs four superlative singers—a requirement that Ars Minerva decidedly fulfilled, thanks to Céline Ricci's ability to attract first-rate vocal talent to her projects.

Jasmine Johnson brought to the role of Andromaca a regal stage presence, fierce dramatic conviction, and an astonishing voice with a strikingly wide range. All her abilities were showcased in her great scenes, including her furious rejection of the importunate Pirro in Act I and her farewell to her son Astianatte that opens Act II. Johnson's thrilling descents into her deep lower register added dramatic bite to her exchanges, but along with powerful feeling she also sang with great beauty.

As Pirro, Deborah Martinez Rosengaus surmounted the daunting vocal challenges of the role with apparent ease, and managed to elicit sympathy for the character despite his willingness to murder Astianatte (the execution is thwarted at the last moment).

Deborah Martinez Rosengaus as Pirro, Anthony Polakoff as Astinatte, and Aura Veruni as Ermione. Photo credit: Valentina Sadiul. Image source: San Francisco Classical Voice

Nikola Printz brought swaggering, Elvis-like energy, the athleticism of an aerialist, and a powerful voice to the volatile Oreste. Portraying perhaps the least sympathetic character, the vengeful Ermione, Aura Veruni's strong performance and attractive voice helped us perceive the wounded nobility of the Greek princess, who is, after all, being used by her father as a sexual pawn in a game of political power. Jayne Diliberto and Daphné Touchais made the most of their opportunities in the supporting roles of Clearte (Pirro's loyal confidant) and Pilade (Oreste's ally). Astianatte was performed movingly by Anthony Polakoff.

The vocalists were richly supported by a 14-piece period instrument orchestra led by conductor Matthew Dirst and concertmaster Cynthia Keiko Black. 18th-century operas have an false reputation as a unvarying succession of da capo arias. In Astianatte Vinci's arias are often relatively short, tuneful, and flexible, as is seen in Andromaca's first-act aria in which her sorrowful addresses to her son are interrupted by her angry asides to Pirro.

Entropy's projections and Delayne Medoff's lighting design effectively suggested the different spaces of the opera (interiors, a garden, a temple, and the port with Pirro's ships aflame).

Projection by Entropy and lighting by Delayne Medoff for the Temple of Juno. Image source: @Celine_Ricci

Marina Polakoff's stunning sculptural costume designs were gradually revealed by Céline Ricci's clever staging, which introduced the characters in a dressing room and over the course of the opera revealed them donning in full both their elaborate costumes and their complex characters.

Astianatte was the most ambitious staging yet by Ars Minerva, which surpasses itself with every production. I'm eager to see what the company will do next.

Update 25 November 2022: Astianatte was named as one of my Favorites of 2022: Live and streamed performances