Before proceeding with some observations, note that only seven months later, in May of ‘94, soprano Aprile Millo gave a disastrous performance of no less than her so-called “signature role” of Aïda in this same house without facing adverse consequences (such as a wall of booing) for her utterly degraded level of singing that night. But don’t take my word for it. Here is the evidence. th-cam.com/video/K7hbcsxIqas/w-d-xo.html And let’s not even mention the widespread and irrational opprobium and abuse that Studer was subjected to for her Covent Garden Aïdas. Read on. Here is one of those edge-of-your-seat performances that is as exciting as it is terrifying. In the interest of gaining a better overall sense of the performance, I have removed all audience participation/distractions pro and con. Because participate the audience did. A hostile claque (or claques) was out for blood .... and found it. They appeared to be angry at the production (by a Hungarian team with direction from renowned filmmaker István Szabó) which was set during the Nazi era and staged amid the partial ruins of a bombed out Vienna State Opera. Today, during the heyday and reign of anything-goes Regietheater (Director's theater), there would be no smoke. And where there's smoke there's fire. But the claque was also hostile to the principals. This is speculation but maybe certain Viennese willed themselves to make a connection between the production values, the once-upon-a-time damage to their cherished opera house from American air raids, and the casting of Americans as two of the leads? The atmosphere certainly had a frisson of danger and most of those involved hardly walked away unscathed. This performance also inexplicably lit the fire that culminated in the Munich "Der Freischütz" conflagration of five years later between Mehta and Studer (but not before his having prevented her from singing the role of Ariadne in Firenze, in breach of contract, two years before Munich; it had become evident that a pattern of abuse had been established by Mehta long before Munich). In any case, on this night Studer was suffering from a severe cold and her congestion is clearly audible in her middle register. Her famous top extension, however, remained open and free, as you will hear. Amazing, under the circumstances, that she could manage to produce from softest pianissimi to loudest fortissimi and thrilling swells of sounds. To me, in a present era chronically plagued by unimportant and boring voices, absence of individuality of sound and expression, blandness, docility, fixation with clinical perfection and extreme caution, her decision to throw herself before the firing squad, so to speak, stands as a profile in risk-taking and courage (some will say recklessness) for several reasons: 1. a demanding role in a high profile house; 2. a new, high profile production with live radio relay; 3. Leonora was a new role for her and was undertaken on short notice from the scheduled Michèle Crider, presumably with limited rehearsal, thus saving opening night; 4. No pre-show announcement indulging the audience about her state was made by the Intendant. But soldier on she did. It takes nerves of steel to say the least. In my opinion, Studer had the right vocal weight and tinta, flexibility, and coloratura chops to make a great, dramatic Leonora. Recovered from her cold, she sang one more performance on 7 November for conductor Michael Halász which is said to have gone splendidly. One can only hope someone managed to record it. The Manrico, Frederic Kalt, soon after disappeared from the scene. In retrospect, I believe that Kalt cracking royally at his end-of-Act-III cabaletta “Di quella pira” (for which he was rewarded with a cascade of boos) became a major factor and gave license for what came next for Studer, who was also subjected to the same following her “D'amor sull'ali rosee” at the start of Act IV. This for her having sung the aria’s closing phrase with a very soft pianissimo (there was a momentary lapse of about a second duration, God forbid, during her transition to that final phrase). But did it warrant the abuse? Moreover, was her "offense" sufficiently grievous for the heckling? Not in my not-so-humble opinion. Nor was she anywhere near the “disaster” we are told repeatedly. In any case, the theater's administration had to summon the police into the auditorium to help calm down the heckling. All that just before the “Miserere”. As for Baltsa, these Vienna Azucenas were her first and final.
Before proceeding with some observations, note that only seven months later, in May of ‘94, soprano Aprile Millo gave a disastrous performance of no less than her so-called “signature role” of Aïda in this same house without facing adverse consequences (such as a wall of booing) for her utterly degraded level of singing that night. But don’t take my word for it. Here is the evidence. th-cam.com/video/K7hbcsxIqas/w-d-xo.html
And let’s not even mention the widespread and irrational opprobium and abuse that Studer was subjected to for her Covent Garden Aïdas. Read on.
Here is one of those edge-of-your-seat performances that is as exciting as it is terrifying. In the interest of gaining a better overall sense of the performance, I have removed all audience participation/distractions pro and con. Because participate the audience did. A hostile claque (or claques) was out for blood .... and found it. They appeared to be angry at the production (by a Hungarian team with direction from renowned filmmaker István Szabó) which was set during the Nazi era and staged amid the partial ruins of a bombed out Vienna State Opera. Today, during the heyday and reign of anything-goes Regietheater (Director's theater), there would be no smoke.
And where there's smoke there's fire.
But the claque was also hostile to the principals. This is speculation but maybe certain Viennese willed themselves to make a connection between the production values, the once-upon-a-time damage to their cherished opera house from American air raids, and the casting of Americans as two of the leads? The atmosphere certainly had a frisson of danger and most of those involved hardly walked away unscathed. This performance also inexplicably lit the fire that culminated in the Munich "Der Freischütz" conflagration of five years later between Mehta and Studer (but not before his having prevented her from singing the role of Ariadne in Firenze, in breach of contract, two years before Munich; it had become evident that a pattern of abuse had been established by Mehta long before Munich). In any case, on this night Studer was suffering from a severe cold and her congestion is clearly audible in her middle register. Her famous top extension, however, remained open and free, as you will hear. Amazing, under the circumstances, that she could manage to produce from softest pianissimi to loudest fortissimi and thrilling swells of sounds. To me, in a present era chronically plagued by unimportant and boring voices, absence of individuality of sound and expression, blandness, docility, fixation with clinical perfection and extreme caution, her decision to throw herself before the firing squad, so to speak, stands as a profile in risk-taking and courage (some will say recklessness) for several reasons: 1. a demanding role in a high profile house; 2. a new, high profile production with live radio relay; 3. Leonora was a new role for her and was undertaken on short notice from the scheduled Michèle Crider, presumably with limited rehearsal, thus saving opening night; 4. No pre-show announcement indulging the audience about her state was made by the Intendant. But soldier on she did. It takes nerves of steel to say the least. In my opinion, Studer had the right vocal weight and tinta, flexibility, and coloratura chops to make a great, dramatic Leonora. Recovered from her cold, she sang one more performance on 7 November for conductor Michael Halász which is said to have gone splendidly. One can only hope someone managed to record it. The Manrico, Frederic Kalt, soon after disappeared from the scene. In retrospect, I believe that Kalt cracking royally at his end-of-Act-III cabaletta “Di quella pira” (for which he was rewarded with a cascade of boos) became a major factor and gave license for what came next for Studer, who was also subjected to the same following her “D'amor sull'ali rosee” at the start of Act IV. This for her having sung the aria’s closing phrase with a very soft pianissimo (there was a momentary lapse of about a second duration, God forbid, during her transition to that final phrase). But did it warrant the abuse? Moreover, was her "offense" sufficiently grievous for the heckling? Not in my not-so-humble opinion. Nor was she anywhere near the “disaster” we are told repeatedly. In any case, the theater's administration had to summon the police into the auditorium to help calm down the heckling. All that just before the “Miserere”. As for Baltsa, these Vienna Azucenas were her first and final.