Defining the happy malady known as “Kaufmannia”

Fellow devotees of our tenor might have experienced a certain exhilaration this past Saturday, April 16th, if they were able to witness the live stream of Tosca from the Vienna Staatsoper, 7:30pm Vienna time. (10:30am Oregon time!) Though of course a different production from the brilliant 2011 production of the Royal Opera House that I wrote of previously, the Vienna production had the same three phenomenal artists in the lead roles: Bryn Terfel as Scarpia, Jonas Kaufmann as Cavaradossi, and Angela Gheorghiu as Tosca.

What a privilege, from so many miles away, to weep over witnessing our tenor in real time, bewildered by the historically rare chanting and pounding of the audience for so long after the aria “E lucevan le stelle” in Act III–literally, show-stopping length–that he and the conductor finally relented, and the aria was performed again. Even more beautifully than the first time. I think many of us were soaring the rest of the weekend…

The same (extremely unusual) phenomenon had apparently happened at the premiere, after which there were whispers about the frustrated comments made by Ms. Gheorghiu about the repetition of the aria. Thus, a moment of operatic melodrama ensued on the night of the 16th, wherein our tenor is left without Tosca who (by speculation, deliberately) missed the cue to enter after “E lucevan,” leaving her Mario stranded and stunned on the rooftop of the Castel Saint’Angelo, where he awaits execution. The orchestra kept playing…Mario desolate and confused…no soprano! Finally, the orchestra stopped, and Mr. Kaufmann, with characteristic good humor and self-effacement, sung a little line about the lack of the soprano, and speaking directly to the audience, delicately apologized by indicating that he was as confused as they were. He had the audience utterly in his pocket…a moment of endearment.

Finally, the soprano entered and all was resumed as if nothing had happened.

Needless to say, concentration on my sewing deadlines suffered greatly this weekend–as did all hope of good sleep, in my excitement–so that all I have a head for at the close of this week (besides our tenor) is whimsical speculation about this mysterious “malady” which has been referred to as “Kaufmannia.” Why not attempt to begin defining it? It may not be in the DSM-V, but after all of the symptoms so many of us have experienced this weekend, perhaps it should be…

So, I shall save writing all more meaningful commentary until a time when deadlines are passed and a regular sleep pattern resumed. Until then, a little silliness. Enjoy, and thank you for putting up with your absent-minded seamstress…

Definition: “Kaufmannia*
*subject to change as this condition becomes more fully explored

Kaufmannia is a condition wherein the victim becomes paralyzed with delight leading to transcendent obsession brought on by exposure to the voice of Jonas Kaufmann.

In its mildest form, Kaufmannia may exhibit symptoms of unexpected weeping and temporary mania-like experiences. These feelings may marginally decrease if one avoids listening to Jonas for a prolonged period. Though abstaining from listening may be an effective short-term remedy (e.g. to promote concentration on an immediate work or study project), it is rarely practical, and includes long-term side-effects such as depression and loss of interest in life.

In its most extreme form–Kaufmannia Extremis–prolonged periods of transcendence may ensue, resulting in any or all of the following: sleeplessness, heart palpitations, shortness-of-breath, obsessive thinking, profound and sudden interest in the beauty of life, continually stopping to smell the roses, uncontrollable weeping, feelings of living in an alternate (and more beautiful) reality, opera obsession, phantom music playing in one’s ear, a tendency to hum or sing in languages one doesn’t understand, addictive tendencies, recurring dreams, inability to survive for long periods without “a dose of Jonas,” a mania to see live performances, increased tenderness and love for all creatures, increased pity (whether well-founded or delusional) for those who are not (yet) Kaufmanniacs, incessant desire to infect others with this illness for the good of humanity, and hopeless romanticism. Potentially negative side-effects include: inability to concentrate on humdrum realities of life (e.g. earning a living so that one can purchase more opera DVDs, CDs, etc), the anxious concern exhibited by friends (who have secretly been looking into the cost for padded rooms), and diminished bank account balances due to excessive opera-related purchases.

Kaufmannia is generally known to be terminal, without any known cure. In fact, studies show that those in Kaufmannia Extremis desire no cure, presumably due to the euphoric state of enhanced psycho-spiritual awareness and well-being experienced by the “sufferer.” Thus, there is currently no funding for research towards a remedy.

Highly contagious.

–from the “Other” Diagnostic & Statistical Manual-5 3/4

Advertisements

“Lieding” Into the Weekend: Bryn, and “Songs of Travel”

This time last week, I shared a little something different: Karl Jenkins’ Ave Verum sung by two baritones, Simon Keenlyside and Bryn Terfel. (Link to the post of 25 March here, if desired.) I rather enjoyed that brief detour from the opera path, and thought I might make it a Friday tradition…thus, “‘lieding’ into the weekend!”

Strictly speaking, “lied” is defined a more narrowly than “song”, being rather specific to a trend in German Romantic music particularly of the 19th century. (Think: Schubert, Strauss, etc.) Oftentimes such lieder (plural form) will consist of the vocalist accompanied by piano.

I’ll be a good deal looser with my own Friday explorations, wanting to explore composers of various genres, or just attracted to what seems like it would be nice listening for a Sunday afternoon ~ but the tendency will be towards lieder as defined.

Today’s find is also somewhat influenced by yesterday’s post on Tosca, in that part of the production’s greatness is the greatness of Bryn Terfel.

Photo credit: from "The Romance of Tall Ships," by Jonathan Eastland
Photo credit: from “The Romance of Tall Ships,” by Jonathan Eastland

“Songs of Travel”

Though not strictly speaking in the “German lied” category, the influence is there. Here we have the great bass-baritone Bryn Terfel singing Ralph Vaughan Williams’ “Songs of Travel,” a Romantic-inspired cycle of nine songs written for a solo baritone voice, based on poetry by Robert Louis Stevenson.

Some of these songs were already familiar to me from a Vaughan Williams CD my mom and I used to listen to years ago in the workshop, but I don’t remember the soloist being so beautifully suited to it as Bryn is here. (Well, we already know there really isn’t another Bryn!) And some of the individual songs I don’t recall hearing previously at all, such as the lovely and too-brief “Let Beauty Awake” that begins at approximately 3:13 in this video:

A little background on our composer:

Ralph Vaughan Williams was born in the Cotswolds in 1872, educated at the Royal College of Music, and at Trinity College, Cambridge, served in the Great War, and died in 1958. There is a lovely little biography to be found at this link to the Ralph Vaughan Williams Society website.

“In the next world I shall not be doing music, with all its strivings and disappointments; I shall be being it.”  ~Ralph Vaughan Williams

Vaughan Williams’ works are, among other things, consummate Englishness put to music. What a gift to have the richness of this Welsh baritone interpreting Scottish poetry put to English music! A dynamic and moving trio. I hope you enjoy it!

Thanks for reading, and have a wonderful weekend! I’ll see you Monday.

Baron Bryn and Jacobin Jonas: Tosca

napoleon pass
Bonaparte Crossing the Great St. Bernard Pass, by Jacques-Louis David (Photo credit: http://www.khanacademy.org)

(Alright, so “Jacobin” is going too far…)

What more can one ask for: we are in Rome in 1800 during Napoleon’s Italian campaign. We have a republican-romantic-idealist painter (Mario Cavaradossi, sung by Jonas Kaufmann) deeply in love with another artist—a singer (Tosca, sung by Angela Gheorghiu), caught up in a political crisis when Mario decides to shelter a political prisoner (who shares his republican ideals and the belief that Napoleon will ride in on his white horse, so to speak, and help those ideals to come true).

All this, and their foil is one of the greatest villains in opera: Chief of Police, Baron Scarpia—sung and acted to perfection by the great bass-baritone Bryn Terfel.

If Bryn had a moustache here, he'd be twirling it.
If Bryn had a curly moustache here, he’d be twirling it.

Torture, murder, art, love, lust, politics, suicide, religion, Napoleon, Rome. A recipe for a phenomenal story. When wedded to the music of the incomparable Puccini and conducted by Antonio Pappano, you have pure magic.

This is the magic of Tosca, an 1899 masterpiece in three acts by Giacomo Puccini, first performed in 1900. This particular production is from 2011 at the Royal Opera House, and the DVD can be found on Amazon. I have heard it called “theTosca; “the best Tosca ever,” etc. And it really would be hard to argue with that. Though it really deserves to be experienced without much foreknowledge of the story, there is–spoiler alert!a synopsis on Naxos, here.

(I think I will go hide now...)
The “Te Deum” (I think I will go hide now…)

The set is dramatic, and the staging often inspired (note: particularly the “Te Deum”…chills!); you have an absolute dream team of singers, at least two of whom (Bryn and Jonas) are also among the best actors in opera. It is just about as close to opera-theatre perfection as it gets.

About 6 weeks ago, almost simultaneously to seeing the filmed 2010 Paris Werther, I watched this production of Tosca with my family. Simply stunning.

If one is new to opera, Tosca would be the one I’d recommend starting with—and this particular production. I wouldn’t want to spoil some of the great arias (“E lucevan le stelle”; “Vissi d’arte”) if you haven’t heard them in context yet. But for a glimpse into Act I, I found the closest approximation that I could: our tenor singing the same role, but in a different production from a year earlier (Munich, 2010). Here is “Recondita armonia,” wherein Cavaradossi works on his painting of Mary Magdalene, comparing his model to the woman he loves:

Yes, and our thoughts are of you, Mr Kaufmann.
Yes, you’re a bit distracting yourself, Mr Kaufmann.

See and hear how he savors it, milks it, especially at the end. The whole of the 2011 ROH production has the same intensity.

You won’t want to miss it.

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.