[LJ2ME] The Princess Diaries
Those of you with post-Olympics withdrawal symptoms have cause for celebration. For a limited run only, you get a repeat of gymnastics, a preview of nanquan as well as the whole hog of Chinoiserie that heralded the start, duration and finish of the Beijing 2008 games.
The Singapore Lyric Opera's production of Puccini's Turandot, in his 150th year, was admittedly done on a "shoe-string" budget ($800,000)by any standards and to be fair, it was remarkable for what they've achieved with what they've had to make do with.
The thing with opera is that unless it is well done on all fronts, then it is better heard than seen. The word itself references the many works that make up the form, and it is indeed a logistical challenge to put everything together and make it work.
One would have been delusional to have entertained high hopes and expectations of the evening, but it was on all counts, at least not regrettable.
With alternate casts available in the three lead roles, we had the first, comprising Jessica Chen in the title, Lee Jae Wook as Calaf and Nancy Yuen as Liu.
Chen didn't stir the emotions in my heart and mind with her opening In questa reggia, the voice tone and colour a little clouded and guttural. However, she warmed up and managed to pull it off, despite some insecurity on the exposed tessitura at the climax. Her riddle scene was more effective, the brilliance and ring in the voice coming to the fore.
From his last outing as Alfredo in Traviata, Lee has developed his voice to take this unlikely part for his natural range. He does a good job carrying the heroic role on his shoulders, and with certain moments recalling the inflections of a Carreras or a Domingo, he has opened a door to a new career path, if he so chooses. The anthem Nessun dorma was tossed off with nary a glitch, but of course nowhere quite near what was the unparalleled outpouring of a Pavarotti.
Yuen as Liu once again irritated with the production of her voice, with a fabricated sound that tended to hinge on acting cute. If it was her intention to recreate the role in the mould and memory of the greats that have good before her, she succeeded. The creaminess of weight, the heft of volume and the control of dynamics were qualities which make the best Lius. And her breath control in Signore ascolta was breathtaking was want of a better word.
The trio of court jesters, oops, ministers, Ping, Pang and Pong were well taken and their voices simultaneously stood out as as well as blended in unison. However, what was with the whole 福禄寿 costumes that screamed "ching chang chong"?
It was hard to pinpoint exactly which Chinese dynasty or era the piece was set in, with the amalgam of styles and designs. The soldiers were kitted out as Terracotta warriors, the peasants like extras in pugilistic dramas, and as ryanfoster put it, our ice princess was almost matronly and dowager-like. I believe he actually described her as 武则天...
With the production budget, the stage set was quite sparse and to make up for it, the director and choreographer filled the scenes with irrelevant martial arts displays and water sleeve dances, while the blocking of the stage desperately needed looking into, as the chorus was always flanking the sides in orderly queues.
Well, at least it was authentically Chinese. The European houses of today have this penchant for tweaking with the productions and taking the operas out of context. Some work, most don't. Like Aida, Turandot is one that cannot be violated. And both need to be done on a big scale.
All things said, once again, we owe our thanks to little mercies, starved as we are for greater things...
The Singapore Lyric Opera's production of Puccini's Turandot, in his 150th year, was admittedly done on a "shoe-string" budget ($800,000)by any standards and to be fair, it was remarkable for what they've achieved with what they've had to make do with.
The thing with opera is that unless it is well done on all fronts, then it is better heard than seen. The word itself references the many works that make up the form, and it is indeed a logistical challenge to put everything together and make it work.
One would have been delusional to have entertained high hopes and expectations of the evening, but it was on all counts, at least not regrettable.
With alternate casts available in the three lead roles, we had the first, comprising Jessica Chen in the title, Lee Jae Wook as Calaf and Nancy Yuen as Liu.
Chen didn't stir the emotions in my heart and mind with her opening In questa reggia, the voice tone and colour a little clouded and guttural. However, she warmed up and managed to pull it off, despite some insecurity on the exposed tessitura at the climax. Her riddle scene was more effective, the brilliance and ring in the voice coming to the fore.
From his last outing as Alfredo in Traviata, Lee has developed his voice to take this unlikely part for his natural range. He does a good job carrying the heroic role on his shoulders, and with certain moments recalling the inflections of a Carreras or a Domingo, he has opened a door to a new career path, if he so chooses. The anthem Nessun dorma was tossed off with nary a glitch, but of course nowhere quite near what was the unparalleled outpouring of a Pavarotti.
Yuen as Liu once again irritated with the production of her voice, with a fabricated sound that tended to hinge on acting cute. If it was her intention to recreate the role in the mould and memory of the greats that have good before her, she succeeded. The creaminess of weight, the heft of volume and the control of dynamics were qualities which make the best Lius. And her breath control in Signore ascolta was breathtaking was want of a better word.
The trio of court jesters, oops, ministers, Ping, Pang and Pong were well taken and their voices simultaneously stood out as as well as blended in unison. However, what was with the whole 福禄寿 costumes that screamed "ching chang chong"?
It was hard to pinpoint exactly which Chinese dynasty or era the piece was set in, with the amalgam of styles and designs. The soldiers were kitted out as Terracotta warriors, the peasants like extras in pugilistic dramas, and as ryanfoster put it, our ice princess was almost matronly and dowager-like. I believe he actually described her as 武则天...
With the production budget, the stage set was quite sparse and to make up for it, the director and choreographer filled the scenes with irrelevant martial arts displays and water sleeve dances, while the blocking of the stage desperately needed looking into, as the chorus was always flanking the sides in orderly queues.
Well, at least it was authentically Chinese. The European houses of today have this penchant for tweaking with the productions and taking the operas out of context. Some work, most don't. Like Aida, Turandot is one that cannot be violated. And both need to be done on a big scale.
All things said, once again, we owe our thanks to little mercies, starved as we are for greater things...