7.25.2004
music and mayhem
I saw Reneé Fleming in concert tonight at the Tanglewood. It was the best darn Pops concert I've ever heard, mainly because unlike the Boston Pops Orchestra or, goodness forbid, the Boston Pops Esplanade Orchestra, the Boston Symphony Orchestra played with all of its musicians in the ranks tonight. Usually, the Boston Pops is the BSO without the first stand strings and without principal winds and brass. The BPEO is almost entirely different personnel. Tonight the orchestra played five orchestral interludes to give Ms. Fleming some time to relax between sets. Never before has such an orchestra played such an assortment of "lite" fare so well: The Overtures to two operas, a prelude to Act III of Lohengrin, and two dances: the Carousel Waltz and the Bohemian Dance from Carmen; each one sparkling with a vitality and clarity that one only finds in the playing of semi-serious music by serious musicians who aren't afraid to give it their all.
Ms. Fleming was in top form for the first half of the concert: her voice was playful and robust, even in the chill of a partially outdoor venue such as Tanglewood. It rose to fiery and indignant and then cooled to heartstring-tugging sadness with ease. Truly, the first half of the concert was rare stuff indeed.
The second half of the concert brought on what Ms. Fleming referred to as an "enhanced" set of songs from popular Americana: tunes from Broadway and the odd Shenandoah: sea chanty turned pop ballad. She explained that the arrangements being as they were in a different part of her vocal range, and being as they are for full orchestra, some electronic "enhancement" was necessary. In short, Ms. Fleming sighed, inhaled, warbled, and bent notes to her hearts delight into a microphone. Melismae were thrown in liberally, as were pop conventions of randomly placed 'oooh'ing and an attempt at a Britney Spears-style moan. What had been almost sublime in the first half was assaulting our sensibilities the second.
Her next and final set featured the welcome disappearance of the microphone for two an aria from the very poorly known "La Wally" about a heroine named 'Wally'. Really. The program made specific mention to "O mio babbino caro" by Puccini, but evidently there were concertgoers in droves who had heard this piece earlier but were completely ignorant of its name. As the orchestra started what should have been the soft chords of the introduction, a collective gasp and "oh, it's this!" could be heard throughout the hall, thus dashing the hopes of those of us in the know of quiet and conscious appreciation of the work.
Ms. Fleming performed three encores: Summertime, Somewhere Over The Rainbow, and one other which escapes the mind at the moment. I was disappointed to hear such microphone use in the second half of the concert; so much so that I would fire the programmers in charge. Still, it is clear that she has done this before (she made reference to having done almost this exact concert in Europe throughout the summer and in DC just two days prior). It was nice to see a full house at Tanglewood for a change: and I did take the time to get a Reneé Fleming autograph, which she was most kind to sign.
Ms. Fleming was in top form for the first half of the concert: her voice was playful and robust, even in the chill of a partially outdoor venue such as Tanglewood. It rose to fiery and indignant and then cooled to heartstring-tugging sadness with ease. Truly, the first half of the concert was rare stuff indeed.
The second half of the concert brought on what Ms. Fleming referred to as an "enhanced" set of songs from popular Americana: tunes from Broadway and the odd Shenandoah: sea chanty turned pop ballad. She explained that the arrangements being as they were in a different part of her vocal range, and being as they are for full orchestra, some electronic "enhancement" was necessary. In short, Ms. Fleming sighed, inhaled, warbled, and bent notes to her hearts delight into a microphone. Melismae were thrown in liberally, as were pop conventions of randomly placed 'oooh'ing and an attempt at a Britney Spears-style moan. What had been almost sublime in the first half was assaulting our sensibilities the second.
Her next and final set featured the welcome disappearance of the microphone for two an aria from the very poorly known "La Wally" about a heroine named 'Wally'. Really. The program made specific mention to "O mio babbino caro" by Puccini, but evidently there were concertgoers in droves who had heard this piece earlier but were completely ignorant of its name. As the orchestra started what should have been the soft chords of the introduction, a collective gasp and "oh, it's this!" could be heard throughout the hall, thus dashing the hopes of those of us in the know of quiet and conscious appreciation of the work.
Ms. Fleming performed three encores: Summertime, Somewhere Over The Rainbow, and one other which escapes the mind at the moment. I was disappointed to hear such microphone use in the second half of the concert; so much so that I would fire the programmers in charge. Still, it is clear that she has done this before (she made reference to having done almost this exact concert in Europe throughout the summer and in DC just two days prior). It was nice to see a full house at Tanglewood for a change: and I did take the time to get a Reneé Fleming autograph, which she was most kind to sign.
