Commentary

What determines the transition from the classical era to the modern? At what point do you say that one era has ended and another begun? In terms of opera, it’s difficult to determine where to draw that line in the sand. Opera is one of the oldest live performing art traditions from Western Europe. While ballet as we know it has its roots in the early 19th century, and Broadway-style stage musicals started in the early 20th century, opera dates back to the 16th century. It began in Italy before spreading throughout Europe, eventually making its way to America. As it traveled to different parts of the world, opera developed different styles.

Generally, 1900 is used as a cutoff for the classical period of music. After that, new trends inspired composers to experiment with atonal harmonies and irregular rhythms instead of formulaic styles and predictable melodic patterns. However, one operatic composer who defies these dates is Giacomo Puccini. He’s included with fellow Italians Giachino Rossini and Giuseppi Verdi as one of opera’s great maestri (masters). Nevertheless, he wrote some of his most beloved operas, including “Tosca,” “Madama Butterfly,” and “Gianni Schicchi” after the turn of the century. His final opera, “Turandot,” was first performed in 1926, two years after the composer died.

In honor of the centennial of Puccini’s death, there have been even more performances of the composer’s operas than usual this year. As part of this trend, Los Angeles Opera performed “Turandot” for the first time in over 20 years. On June 8, I saw the closing show of this lavish production, which was the company’s last performance of the season.

The Opera’s Story

Most of Puccini’s operas are realistic stories about common people, but not “Turandot.” It’s a fairytale and an elaborate spectacle. Set in ancient Peking (Beijing), it features a mystical look at a fictionalized version of the Chinese city where the persecuted populace, turned bloodthirsty through oppression and fear, acts as an important character. Most of the main players are neither all good or all evil but complex, dramatic embodiments of a conflicted dual nature. The plot is set in motion by the arrival of an exiled Tartar prince, Calaf (tenor), who is reunited with his long-lost father, blind deposed king Timur (bass). Timur’s faithful companion is slave girl Liu (soprano), who has stayed by his side for years out of love for Calaf.

Peking is wracked by the vicious reign of cruel Princess Turandot (soprano), who executes every suitor who has tried to win her hand, since all have failed to answer her three riddles. Although Calaf initially denounces her cruelty, he vows to wed her when he sees her beauty, despite Timur and Liu’s pleading. He successfully answers her riddles but, seeing her aversion to marrying him, agrees to be executed anyway if she can’t learn his name before dawn. She tortures the city to learn the stranger’s name, eventually capturing Liu. Rather than give away her beloved’s secret, Liu stabs herself. Calaf blames the cold princess for the innocent woman’s death, putting his life in her hands by telling her his name. He then kisses her, and this first gesture of love from a man melts Turandot’s frozen heart. She declares to her people that the stranger’s name is love, fulfilling Liu’s dying prophecy that she would fall in love with Calaf, too.

A Grand Spectacle

This production was designed by David Hockney. It fully embraced the fairytale aspect of the opera, but it’s not the whimsical fairyland we know from classic Disney films. Rather, it’s the gruesome, grotesque realm of magic depicted in writings by Hans Christian Andersen and in the 1001 Arabian Nights. To overcome the problematic concept of using “yellowface” makeup to make Caucasian performers appear Asian, face paint was implemented for many characters to denote their societal roles, although it also hid their ethnic characteristics. In general, the use of colors was effective for conveying moods and characters, but I thought some of the costumes were too brightly colored and thus too whimsical. This made the whole production seem like a spoof at times, rather than a serious presentation of a serious work.

Overall, it was an amazing performance with excellent singers. I felt it was primarily hindered by two things, namely, the singers playing Turandot and Calaf. Angela Meade and Russell Thomas are two of the most famous opera singers performing today, yet I felt that their resumes are far more impressive than their performances in this show. They acted very little, instead using the outdated “park and bark” method of rigidly placing oneself in a single spot and singing straight out at the audience. I didn’t believe that they were Turandot and Calaf; they were just two well-known opera singers, riding on their laurels. In addition, Mr. Thomas’s voice lacked the brightness I expect from a verismo tenor, especially on the high notes, and Ms. Meade’s singing sounded somewhat labored. The other part of the show which fell short of my expectations was the brief inclusion of featured dancers at the opening of Act II. They lacked synchronization and weren’t technically impressive enough to warrant their inclusion. I would have liked to see more authentic Chinese dancing, if a terpsichorean attraction had to be included.

I was very impressed by the rest of the singers. Soprano Guanqun Yun was technically excellent and very emotional as Liu, quickly earning the audience’s sympathy with her lovely portrayal of this Puccini heroine. The singer who stood out to me the most was baritone Ryan Wolfe, a member of the company’s Domingo-Colburn-Stein Young Artist Program, who played lead minister Ping. His voice is amazingly mature, and his performance was unforgettably powerful. Overall, I really enjoyed the show. It was an amazing experience to see this dramatic opera live for the first time. I appreciate the fact that Los Angeles Opera presented this classic Puccini work in a traditional manner. However, I only wish that the two lead characters were as strong as the rest of the cast.

The End of an Era

Maestro James Conlon, LA Opera’s resident conductor, gave a talk about the opera before the performance. Due to this opera’s popularity and the fact that it was performed on the last day of the Opera America Conference, the show was sold out. Over an hour before the show, scores of dedicated opera fans gathered upstairs to listen to Mr. Conlon’s insight into this masterpiece. He mentioned his intention to retire from LA Opera’s full-time conductor position in a couple of years, at which point he hopes to give more of such operatic lectures. He asked us listeners to email him our opinions on his value as a speaker. I never got around to sending such an email, but I hereby go on record that his speech was one of my favorite aspects of the show.

Mr. Conlon spoke with great poise and authority about this opera’s source material, influences, and composition. He analyzed the enigmas surrounding it, since Puccini died when it was yet unfinished, and explained how it was completed for performance. I was impressed by the reasonable, objective manner with which he discussed exoticism and orientalism, two issues which trouble many companies as they decide how to present foreign-themed operas like this in today’s overly sensitive climate. He even discussed the creative, unusual harmonies Puccini explored in this score, playing snippets from well-respected recordings to illustrate his point.

One fascinating detail Mr. Conlon mentioned was that “Turandot” is a classic melodrama. The term, when used in a theatrical sense, comes from the 19th century French word “mélodrame.” It comes from two ancient Greek words meaning song and theatrical plot. It reached its climax in dramatic Italian operas by Verdi and his successor Puccini, perhaps best exemplified by “Turandot.” When Puccini died, he had no successor in the genre of musical melodrama. Thus, Mr. Conlon considers “Turandot” to be opera’s last true melodrama. I find it a fascinating coincidence that the Vitaphone film soundtrack was introduced the same year in the Warner Bros film “Don Juan.” Perhaps it was no coincidence that Hollywood was able to take opera’s place as the innovator of melodrama once it could use pre-recorded sound.