“Mio Carlo”

(To Viv, opera buddy.)

For a blog with “Don Carlo” in the title, I’ve written surprisingly little as yet on this, my favorite, opera. (Truthfully, I haven’t written as often as I’d like to in general.) Perhaps it is that trepidation that one has approaching a beloved subject…how to express thoughts in words that do it any justice? In time, I hope to explore this opera here in more depth, as I continue to learn.

Today, however, it has been a year since the opera obsession started; it feels like a good time to take a pause. This blog has been about the “opera journey”–more the opera than the “journey”– from a beginner’s perspective…not because my journey has any significance, but just because it is too joyful not to share. But this post, more personal, relates to what will be a huge milestone and joy for me in the coming year…thanks in great part to “mio Carlo,” Viv.

Rodrigo (Thomas Hampson) comforts his Carlo (Jonas Kaufmann). Don Carlo, Salzburg 2013.

About eleven months ago I saw my first recording of Verdi’s Don Carlo, the 2013 Salzburg production with Jonas Kaufmann, Anja Harteros, and Thomas Hampson. The opera became my favorite quicker than you can say “bromance.”

Why Carlo? (How shall I count the ways?) Phenomenal characters, complex relationships (talk about dysfunctional family!), glorious music, chilling and captivating political and religious themes…it has it all. It’s the Hamlet of opera, in combination with some of the intrigue of the history plays. But more than that, Don Carlo has, to me, the most moving relationship in any opera: the brotherly, self-sacrificial love between Don Carlo and his friend Rodrigo, the Marquis di Posa, who is caught between his affection for Carlo and his concern for the suffering of the people of Flanders under the heavy hand of Carlo’s father, King Philip II of Spain, and the Inquisition. To stretch the Hamlet connection, the Carlo/Rodrigo friendship has a bit of a Hamlet/Horatio dynamic–albeit with a stronger, more proactive “Horatio.” One, Carlo, is “passion’s slave,” haunted by a disastrous personal crisis in the midst of political ones–the other, Rodrigo, a staunchly loyal friend who sees the potential in him.

I’ve always had a soft spot for stories about male friendship. (I hesitated before seeing a version of the opera, after hearing the friendship duet on youtube–love at first listen–because I feared that Rodrigo would turn against his Carlo in the end, or that it’d end up being more rivalry than friendship.) But, not to spoil it, Verdi not only pays off the incomparably beautiful duet, a glorious tribute to friendship, but does so in a big way. I hope you will experience a version of this opera if you haven’t already…I eventually get around to writing a bit on those I’ve seen and heard.

My friend Viv (below) has often tried to guess which opera-relationships would likely be a success, if not hampered by the death and villainy that goes with the opera territory. (Would Mimi and Rodolfo honestly make it “in real life”? Tosca and Mario? Calaf and Turandot? It does make one pause…) I can only say, without a doubt, that Carlo and Rodrigo would make it. 😉 That’s the difference in this opera, an opera where the love serves the ideal, and the ideal the love; where friendship is deeper than the (sometimes) shallow ebb and flow of opera romance, where love is truly stronger than death and disappointment. It’s the bond of brothers.

Not unlike this friendship, the community of those who love opera is also close-knit. Opera friends are immensely enthusiastic and warm in sharing their joy, recommendations, practical help and advice…even sending/exchanging CDs or DVDs that they love or want to pass along. (One of mine just went out in the post to a friend the other day, and hers to me before that.) Listening to opera together, sharing knowledge and thought and insight. Opera buddies make life more and more beautiful all the time. My parents are hooked, and have not only tolerated but supported their daughter’s mad hobby, and will even listen to Wagner with me…a beau geste indeed. 😉 We’re all Carlos and Rodrigos to one another.

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Jonas Kaufmann and Viv Hannides, 18 Jan 2017. Our Jonas took this “selfie.”

Around the time of my first Don Carlo, my long-distance friend Viv Hannides (fellow Kaufmanniac and Opera Enabler Extraordinaire, who allowed me to mention her name and snag a photo of hers–on the left–for this post, without knowing why) told me that there were rumors of a production of the French-language version—Don Carlos, as it is typically called in that version—to be performed at the Opéra National de Paris (Bastille) for the 2017-18 season, with Jonas in the title role. This would be historic on several levels: the stellar cast (more on that below) and the novelty of its being the full, 5-act French version. (They will apparently be doing the 5-act Italian version the following season.) Viv, who has a Paris Opera subscription, offered to help me get tickets, even back when we had just started to connect, if I wished to try for it when the time came.

Well, I knew I would have to try. It would perhaps be my first, or even only, chance to see/hear our tenor in person. (And who knows what can happen in a year’s time?) Sure, Jonas will doubtless be at the Met again soon enough–perhaps even next season, as there are rumors of a Tosca with his Cavaradossi–and what a dream that would be! We’ll soon find out for certain. But…this is Don Carlos! And, so my thinking went, it would be—from the time I first heard the rumors—a year and a half to two years away, depending on what point in the season it was performed. I had a bit of time to save, and plan. (Well, how time does fly…)

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A gift from Viv, October 2016.

And what can I say of dear Viv? If only I could count the number of times generous, beautiful, hilarious Viv has made me laugh, and cheered me up with delightful, outrageously-altered pictures of my opera heroes (mostly Jonas and René Pape). And I don’t know at what point Viv became nicknamed “mio Carlo” by me—someone pointed out that we will have to start saying “mon

Another gift from Viv, New Years' Eve, 2016.
Another gift from Viv, New Years’ Eve, 2016.

Carlos,” in keeping with the French version—and I her “Rodrigo,” but so it is. I believe I did mention a number of times wanting “to be Rodrigo when I grow up,” after encountering Thomas Hampson’s portrayal of the opera hero in the Salzburg production. (Really, though, she has been more the Rodrigo than I, the one to go above and beyond constantly…and has made for this distant “fanciulla del West” feel less distant from the hub of European opera than she really is.)

Most recently, she has redoubled my joy at the return of Jonas–in the Paris Lohengrin–after his months of recovery from the vocal injury. Viv was there the first night, January 18th, and stayed hours after to wait for him to come out after the show, keeping me posted as she waited.

Knock me down with a feather...
Knock me down with a feather…

Little did I know that a large part of her intent was to have our hero sign something for his long-distance fan who has not been able to see him in person yet. I won’t try to describe the emotion here. (My poor mom, who happened to be around at the time, had to put up with constant, weepy interruptions…) Not only to see my name in Jonas’ hand, but, even more, touched that “mio Carlo” would have even thought to take the time out of those few, precious moments—really, how often are we in close proximity to Jonas Kaufmann?–to think of her Rodrigo, so far away.

Photo credit: from the Espace Lyrique facebook post of Oct 2016.
Photo credit: from the Espace Lyrique facebook post of Oct 2016.

Now, of course, the official announcement about the long-rumored production is out. It looks to be one for the ages, full of our “opera heroes.” The Bastille is indeed putting on the 5-act Don Carlos in French, with not only Jonas Kaufmann in the title role, but Ildar Abdrazakov as Philippe II, Ludovic Tézier as Rodrigue, Sonya Yoncheva as Élisabeth de Valois, and Elīna Garanča as Eboli. (I still can’t quite believe it…)

To put the icing on the cake, “our” Rodrigo, Thomas Hampson, is in a production of The Merry Widow at the same venue, only the night before! Tickets bought, and there’s no way we can’t get to Paris now. (I’m afraid, once there, it will not be possible to tear me away…)

Of course, getting the tickets are only step one, but we’ve done it. Paris, October 2017, here we come! (Somehow! Extra shifts at work, a few extra sewing orders, a little less sleep…for Carlos? For Thomas, Jonas, Ildar, Ludovic, Elina? Absolutely. Sleep is overrated anyway! :)) Again, Viv saved the day, spending hours navigating internet delays the moment ticket sales went up for Carlos. Truly, another huge gift…I don’t know how it could have been done otherwise.

Just…please God, keep every one of this beautiful cast in good health, for their sakes mostly…and ours too. Anyway, whatever happens, we’ll be able to say:

It is a dream-made-reality. Thanks, all my dear opera buddies and family…thanks for sharing the joy and knowledge constantly. “Vivremo insiem!”

And thank you so much, mio Carlo!

Dio, che nell’alma infondere
Amor volesti e speme
Desio nel cor accendere
Tu dêi di libertà;
Giuriamo insiem di vivere
E di morire insieme;
In terra, in ciel congiungere
Ci può la tua bontà.

~~~

God, who has brought us together,
Fire our hearts with flames of glory,
Fire that is noble and pure,
Fire of love that will set men free!
God, grant that this love may fire us,
May freedom call and inspire us!
Accept the vow that we swear!
We shall die united in love!

(Translation by Andrew Porter, for the English National Opera’s guide, Don Carlos/Don Carlo, 1992.)

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Taking a pause: Simon and Bryn sing “Ave Verum”

Roberto Alagna and Thomas Hampson
Roberto Alagna and Thomas Hampson

I’m in the midst of a viewing of the 1996 Théâtre du Châtelet production of the (French language) Don Carlos with a younger Roberto Alagna and Thomas Hampson—he is, oh, so beautiful!—and I will return to this subject shortly.

But for today, on this Good Friday, I thought I’d take a pause in the opera journey to share something a little different: a modern Ave Verum by Welsh composer Karl Jenkins. (Fun fact: he is the first Welsh composer to receive a knighthood!) Jenkins is known especially for his Adiemus, Requiem, and The Armed Man: a Mass for Peace. This Ave Verum is, perhaps, my mom’s favorite piece of music. (Thank you, Debra, for finding it!)

Bryn Terfel's "Simple Gifts"
Bryn Terfel’s “Simple Gifts”

One of the unique things about this piece is that it is sung, unconventionally, by two beautiful, brilliant baritones: Simon Keenlyside and Bryn Terfel. (In Bryn’s case, bass-baritone.) To me, their voices blend so exquisitely in this unusual and wounding treasure. I hope you enjoy it!

I will take a post-break for the coming day or two. Thank you for reading! Whether or not you celebrate Easter and the Triduum, I hope your coming days are filled with beauty, and peace.

Lyrics: Ave Verum

(Written by Karl Jenkins)

Ave, verum corpus

Natum de Maria Virgine

Vere passum immolatum

In cruce pro homine

Cujus latus perforatum

Unda fluxit et sanguine,

Esto nobis praegustatum

In mortis examine. Amen.

~  ~  ~

Hail, true body

Born of the Virgin Mary

Who truly suffered, sacrificed

On the cross for man,

Whose pierced side overflowed

With water and blood,

Be for us a foretaste

In the test of death. Amen.

The beginning of an obsession: The Pearl Fishers duet

It was approximately 7:30am PST on February 5th 2016 that I first heard the voice of Jonas Kaufmann and Dmitri Hvorostovsky. The means: an innocent-looking facebook link to their Pearl Fishers duet from a concert (“Hvorostovsky and Friends”) in Moscow of 2008.

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From a childhood journal. My first crush: Samuel Ramey as Don Giovanni

I had not followed opera ~ except for perhaps one or two Bryn Terfel productions on dvd ~ since I was a little girl with a crush on Samuel Ramey. However, having grown up with the marvelous Zeffirelli production of Turandot with Placido Domingo, my family and I had finally taken advantage the previous evening of the Metropolitan Opera’s Live in HD cinema showings ~ this time, the Met’s most recent Zeffirelli-based production of Turandot. Swedish soprano Nina Stemme was phenomenal as the lead, and the set was glorious to behold.

As we were underwhelmed by the Calaf, however, Debra (my marvelous mom) went on a search for current tenors ~ again, we had not been following opera ~ and came across the wonder-tenor Jonas Kaufmann. (Had we been under a rock all these years…?)

Never would we have imagined that any tenor after Domingo would have a voice of a similar quality. Mr Kaufmann’s is reminiscent of his, yet altogether unique; his has a darker texture than that of most tenors. Emotional, rich, “veiled”–as I have heard it described. Sublime. (But, truthfully, I don’t think the perfect word has yet been invented.)

And glorious Dmitri Hvorostovsky? A heart-stoppingly beautiful baritone, whose presence and power are unmatched, and who brings emotional richness and captivating charm to every role. Dima, we love you!

Little did Debra know what she would start with the innocent sharing of a link to a duet.

Since that time (about a month and a half later, as I record this), I’ve managed to see filmed or YouTube versions of operas such as Don Carlo (oh, have I fallen for Verdi, or what!), La Fanciulla del West, Il Trovatore, La Forza del Destino, Andrea Chénier, Manon Lescaut, Tosca, and Werther; I’ve seen Mr Kaufmann’s glorious An Evening with Puccini in the local cinema; and have discovered innumerable arias and lieder that have brought joy and light into a busy little life.

In a world filled with tragedy and loss, it is a great gift to find joy in the Beauty of something so well done, and so passionately. I thought of scribbling my thoughts here, as I continue to journey into this wonderful world, even if no one else were to read them.

But one of the best joys is discovering other opera fans and friends! I’m learning more by the day, and love sharing the love right back.

I figure: if one who has little to no means to spend on travel and expensive opera tickets and no formal musical knowledge or training, nor a facility for languages other than my own, can appreciate the great gift that opera is…well, anyone can. (And should, if possible!)

Jonas, Dmitri, and all of these great artists have opened ~ to this family, at least ~ the wide landscape of opera.

Oh, what have we been missing all these years?

A humble “thank you” to all artists who bring light and beauty into our lives.