Naples Tape
Scammed! Yet again... Hands up those of you who subscribed blind to the Singapore Sun Festival's An Italian Gala: Jose Carreras in Concert Tuesday evening? Well, yours truly has just one thing to say. Naples is in Italy. And that is to be read with scathing scarcasm. More on that later.
So a cursory scan of the evening's programme had one scratching the head as the numbers that one recognised were distinctly not hailing from the tenor repertoire and canon. Admittedly, it was an Italian evening as promised, just that the man himself limited his appearances on stage to Neapolitan songs (nothing against them per se but at the spur of the moment, one wished Vesuvius had decimated the city) and the familiar tunes were left to the resources of his partners in crime, Argentinian soprano Ivanna Speranza and English mezzo Stephanie Lewis.
It must be said that there is still that flush of greatness in his voice. Truth be told, he seemed to be in better voice than back at Victoria Concert hall some five years ago, though the selection of songs back then were the same crap. His instrument rang out unfettered at climaxes and scaled back and down to a fine thread in exemplary messa di voce, and cutting a trim figure in his tuxedo and with a mane of silver hair, he could still charm the panties off the ladies. The gentleman's tenor, he was circumspect in his carriage and deportment, his hands always artfully held in front of him, mock adjusting his cuffs.
Soprano Speranza was a pint-sized woman who believed in the "if you've got it, flaunt it" mantra, where her two cross-backed gowns revealed ample cleavage in front with her decolletage all but spilling out. She had a voice which was bright and penetrating in its higher register, albeit a tad thin and underpowered in the passagio where she all but swallowed her projection. Mezzo Lewis impressed from the onset with a voice rich and resonant but quickly lost favour when she took artistic liberties with the portamento and rubato of Una voce poco fa where she totally reinterpreted the aria with her unlicensed treatment.
The Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music (33 Steinway grands on campus!) accompanied the evening under the baton of maestro Paolo Olmi where operatic orchestral overtures insterpaced the singing. At the end of the evening, the encores were trotted out without much ado, launching into the first barely after the first stage call. Applause at the recognition of the soaring opening of O mio babbino caro continued into the aria, drowning out the floated phrase of "mi piace, e bello" which had to be bellowed to be heard. At the end, the trio had to do something together and I immediately rolled my eyes even before they could strike up the rum-pah-pah of the Traviata Brindisi.
Yes, there was scattered standing ovation, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that the full house accorded a standing ovation as reviewed in the papers...
So a cursory scan of the evening's programme had one scratching the head as the numbers that one recognised were distinctly not hailing from the tenor repertoire and canon. Admittedly, it was an Italian evening as promised, just that the man himself limited his appearances on stage to Neapolitan songs (nothing against them per se but at the spur of the moment, one wished Vesuvius had decimated the city) and the familiar tunes were left to the resources of his partners in crime, Argentinian soprano Ivanna Speranza and English mezzo Stephanie Lewis.
It must be said that there is still that flush of greatness in his voice. Truth be told, he seemed to be in better voice than back at Victoria Concert hall some five years ago, though the selection of songs back then were the same crap. His instrument rang out unfettered at climaxes and scaled back and down to a fine thread in exemplary messa di voce, and cutting a trim figure in his tuxedo and with a mane of silver hair, he could still charm the panties off the ladies. The gentleman's tenor, he was circumspect in his carriage and deportment, his hands always artfully held in front of him, mock adjusting his cuffs.
Soprano Speranza was a pint-sized woman who believed in the "if you've got it, flaunt it" mantra, where her two cross-backed gowns revealed ample cleavage in front with her decolletage all but spilling out. She had a voice which was bright and penetrating in its higher register, albeit a tad thin and underpowered in the passagio where she all but swallowed her projection. Mezzo Lewis impressed from the onset with a voice rich and resonant but quickly lost favour when she took artistic liberties with the portamento and rubato of Una voce poco fa where she totally reinterpreted the aria with her unlicensed treatment.
The Yong Siew Toh Conservatory of Music (33 Steinway grands on campus!) accompanied the evening under the baton of maestro Paolo Olmi where operatic orchestral overtures insterpaced the singing. At the end of the evening, the encores were trotted out without much ado, launching into the first barely after the first stage call. Applause at the recognition of the soaring opening of O mio babbino caro continued into the aria, drowning out the floated phrase of "mi piace, e bello" which had to be bellowed to be heard. At the end, the trio had to do something together and I immediately rolled my eyes even before they could strike up the rum-pah-pah of the Traviata Brindisi.
Yes, there was scattered standing ovation, but I wouldn't go so far as to say that the full house accorded a standing ovation as reviewed in the papers...