For the first reviews of yesterday in Hamburg click
here,
here and
here =)
(Hope that translations will follow soon, but I'm a little bit busy today...)Sensual soprano with dangerous intensityAnna Netrebko, the currently opera‘s most famous diva, needn’t to capture her audience hearts, cause she owns them already.As the currently most famous opera diva entered the Laeiszhalles’ stage with her breathtaking robe, you dream a short second to be Oskar Matzerath and be allowed to go missing under her skirts with Kashubian dimension and to listen thence to her beautiful voice. But then we pull ourselves together, keep brave our seats and let ears and mind lave in this indescribable feminine melody sound, which La Netrebko let in Lyudmila’s cavatina “Grustno Mne” out of Glinka’s “Ruslan and Lyudmila” stream out of her gorge.
Her always eminent sensual soprano got within the years still more corporal. She shapes each tone like the sound become equivalence yonder bends, which accelerate the men heartbeat. However she isn’t a coquettish female; she sings with a delightful power and unsophisticatedness. Her superb voice is beautiful shaded in the depth and owns a nearly dangerous intensity aloft. During Sylva Varescu’s song “Heia, heia ! In den Bergen ist mein Heimatland” out of the “Gipsy Princess” reeled the coordination between soloist and orchestra, at the aria “Un bel di vedremo” in Puccini’s “Madame Butterfly” overtook Anna Netrebko a tiny ailment, which she handled indeed perfect.
The singer herself seems to be happier as at her both previous performances in Hamburg in CCH and at the Derbypark: disengaged, warm-hearted, like the everlasting girl out of the folk. When the fairly Prague Philharmonic choir sings a few beats without her, then she turns around and listens to the singers. This makes the choir happy – and the audience may meanwhile enjoy her beautiful back view.
The Minsk born mezzo soprano Ekaterina Semenchuk had cloth bad luck: she looked like being dressed by the tailoring Cinderella. But what does such outwardnesses mean, if such a subtle and maestoso knows how to deal with her impavid fathoming the depths voice ? La Semenchuk saved at this stars’ gala evening the musical gravity, which sometimes fall behind cause of the event character of this performance. First during her encore, the “Carmen” aria, melt the singer noticeable and let also visual her hair down.
Bryn Terfel has no problems at all with this. The bass-baritone from Wales is the nee pulling focus, an ingenious player and party boy, who affords little, marked acting trimmings, for clarifying the audience his particular roles. As Sportin’ Life out of “Porgy & Bess” by George Gershwin plays he with pleasure the bay boy with a cigarette in the mouth and profane patter. Terfel can bawl and roar, it’s a delight. As type honest guy with Joe-Cocker-appeal is he not above, to announce the not TV watching audience before his encore “The Impossible Dream” out of “The Man From La Mancha” by Mitch Leigh short the intermediate result of the world championship qualifying game Germany against Azerbaijan – in German. That our language is closer to him then the French one – his “Le veau d’or out of Gounod’s “Faust” stayed completely incomprehensible – proved he furthermore at the touching simple and beautiful sang aria by Wolfram von Eschenbach “O du mein holder Abendstern” out of “Tannhäuser”.
The Prague Philharmonics ploughed valiant till reputable through the inclusive encores 20 pieces of the evening. During the instrumental pieces perverted meanwhile the in places bizarre disproportional hand acting of the conductor Emmanuel Villaume the pleasure by taking a look on stage. Should it be valued as a sign of the audiences’ mellowness, that the absolute “Anna ! Anna !” reeling was missing, the people first stand up from the seats in the end and then however lapsed into even already impolite sluggish rhythmical clapping, which couldn’t allure the three sing stars to no more following encores ? The gigantic triumph was this gala anyway not.
All the more this feeds the dream, to hear Miss Netrebko one time a whole evening long, without gain and also without colleagues impetus. Dito Bryn Terfel, dito Ekaterina Semenchuk. For this would have also Oskar Matzerath bang the drum.
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Breathless aspirationSuccessfull concert with Bryn Terfel and Anna Netrebko at the Laeiszhalle Anna Netrebko, the mirror finish soprano from St. Petersburg, and Bryn Terfel, the singing natural phenomenon from Wales, performed the day before yesterday together at the music hall. The both spoiled by success opera singers are indeed worlds apart.
The avowed soccer fan Terfel, who also interlaces short the score at half time of the German and Welsh world champion ship qualifying games at an arias’ begin, plays so smart, variable and intelligent with his imposing bass-baritone voice, is furthermore such a staggering performer, as if comedic clownish Dulcamara out of Donizetti’s “L’elisir d’amore” or as terrifying dark Mephisto out of Gounod’s “Faust”, that we long for him finally again as guest at the state opera.
The thoroughbred singer shimmers like in dreams stylistically appropriate between Belcanto and Verismo, between Gershwin and Wagner, for with giving his encore “The Impossible Dream” follow still in Sinatra’s footsteps. At the concerts’ peak level, the “Te Deum” out of Puccini’s “Tosca”, are it his enigmatic shaded, lurking hushed and first then heroic crowing notes, with which he paces off vocally perfect the operas’ whole emotion chart.
And Anna Netrebko, the by the promotion flossy silver bullet of the commerce classical, who should vindicate the ticket prices of till 350 Euro ? She seems to be likable, very focused and soprano creamy like always. But her stage presence stays on average. Her well controlled voice may got a little bit dramatic and warmer rotundity after her pregnancy, really unique is her beautiful timbre even not now.
(I don’t think so at all – her timbre is totally unique…) And her Butterfly, which comes closer with the big aria “Un bel dì vedremo”, stays the false front of a tragically lover.
Too calculated are the affects, she blows the exposed phrases with too much air, so that her breath runs out for the big aspiration legato. In the duet “Quanto amore” out of Donizetti’s “L’elisir d’amore”, which she plays and acts adorable together with Bryn Terfel, instead she catchs with coquettish bel canto chirp, light voice and easy parlando. Bellini’s keenly awaited “Sonnambula” aria deprived she us instead: for Netrebko’s fans a meagre result of an exiguous concert, which hold besides Terfel the Prague Philharmonic under Emmanuel Villaume and the mezzo Ekatarina Semenchuk engaged running.
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