Our new, knowledgable and heavily nom de plumed contributor Loki von Karajan recently saw Sondra Radvanovsky in Toronto and has something to say about it…
Loki – This week, I found myself in Toronto and jumped at the chance to hear a singer I greatly admire, Ms. Sondra Radvanovsky, in concert. I’m used to seeing this artist on the operatic stage, and not a recital hall, and this evening proved that to be a wise choice for the singer. In essence, what I witnessed was a very fine opera school performance by an unusually technically proficient sophomore.
To start the evening off, the ever charming Ms. Radvanovsky sashayed onstage in a beautiful red gown (showing off a great figure after some recent weight loss… this woman is definitely part way through the “star” transformation). What awaited her on that stage? A little table with a glass of water (never used throughout the performance), and a music stand. Although she did apologize for the stand and cited her extremely busy Metropolitan Opera schedule for its presence, it added to the aura of the amateur that permeated the night.
The recital program started off with Vivaldi’s “Sposa son disprezzata” (from Bajazet). An unusual choice in a program that made no sense (more on that below), it was sung with the usual gorgeous tone and a, quite frankly, offensive da capo. Ms. Radvanovsky chose portamenti and ornamentation wildly out of context for the style. I realize she is a fine bel canto artist, but when one goes to a performance by a singer past their first year at music school, one expects better fidelity to style.
Second on the menu were three songs by Vincenzo Bellini. Before launching into the gorgeous music, Ms. Radvanovsky explained that the theme of this concert was for the public to get to know her… Sondra… better; and that she chose this group because of her connection to that composer’s better known masterpiece… Norma. This idea, although inviting, attempts to hide the lack of care taken with the programming, but nonetheless fails to bring a through-line to a scattered mishmash of composers and songs.
Ms. Radvanovsky explained that “La Ricordanza” was the genesis of “Qui la voce”, and sang with a fine mastery of her instrument. Her pianissimi have been honed to perfection, but their rampant use made me worried that she is dangerously close using them in place of expression as opposed to in aid of it.
The final group of the first half were selections of songs by Richard Strauss. Again, with great charm, Ms. Radvanovsky explained that we were her guinea pigs in the first foray into the repertoire. Although the song choices (which included “Morgen” and “Heimliche Aufforderung”), contained more undergraduate recital staples, I found the singer to do her most expressive work in this repertoire, utilizing word painting and phrasing for touching and engaging interpretations.
After a short intermission, the diva entered again in another stunning gown, and opened with a selection of Liszt songs, because she was in Canada, eh?… Again, charming as that introduction was (and I fear I’m overusing that word here, but can find no other to express her demeanor more fully), and glorious as the pianissimi were, I was left yearning for a greater depth of rendition.The following selections from Barber’s Hermit Songs were preceded by a lively introduction. The cycle was written for Leontyne Price, a hero of Ms. Radvanovsky’s, who was gracious enough to recount a meeting with the great diva during her time at the Met’s young artist program. As Sondra was introduced to Ms. Price by Mo. Levine as “the next you”, the legend told her to be herself, and leave being Price to Price. As with the prior selections, the songs did not stray far from undergrad fare (“St. Ita’s Vision”, “The Monk and His Cat” among others), but thankfully did not contain enough vocal acrobatics for the crowd to clap between each and every selection (which was often the case that night), allowing for a through-line in interpretation.
The final offering of the night, “La Mamma Morta” (from Giordano’s Andrea Chénier) presumably expressed the singer’s thoughts toward verismo repertoire, and was delivered with frequent glances at the score, beautiful line, and as unfortunate a lack of style as the first piece of the evening. Gratefully, the bravura finale set the previously shifting and coughing crowd into a roar of approval.
In order to end on a high note (apologies, but pun intended), let me talk about two of the encores out of order. One of the four presented was “Pace, pace mio Dio!” (from Verdi’s La Forza del Destino), delivered again with beautiful tone and minimal expression. The last cries of Maledizione! Maledizione! Maledizione! (Curse!) were delivered with shocking monotony until the last high note. There is so much text here that demands feeling, demands sacrifice, honesty, and courage from the singer in order to dance on the edge of her technique and deliver something to send shivers down the audience’s back. Frustratingly, this performance did not possess those qualities.
Now on to the highlight of the evening, as another encore was Dvorak’s Song to the Moon (from Rusalka), an exquisitely sung aria of impeccable style and taste. Ms. Radvanovsky dedicated the song to her father, who passed before seeing his daughter on stage. I don’t know whether it was the dedication, or an obvious natural affinity for the music that lent so much expression to the sound, but the house was genuinely moved by the interpretation (and so was Sondra, who was on the edge of tears).
In short, it was an intimate recital, presented by a “divas… they’re just like us” kind of star, containing some glorious sounds, and some disappointing interpretations. It may be me, but I expect more from our current starts. If not her, then who will be a true diva, the one who gives of themselves not in witty introductions, but in the depth of commitment to the language, the style, and the emotion of the presented repertoire. This woman has great potential. Let’s hope that it will be realized.
Stray observations:
-It is quite obvious that Ms. Radvanovsky is well loved in her adopted hometown of Toronto, with the recital having a warm, intimate feel. As though one was singing for their closest friends and family.
-I REALLY hope those beautiful pianissimi are not going to become a crutch (see Madame Fleming).
-The audience started clapping in between connected pieces quite early on and continued throughout the performance. This practice puts on display how badly educated our concert going public is, and how little effort artists put in furthering that education. If someone is moved by a particularly stunning rendition, of course there should be room for impromptu claps, but breaking up the whole of a cycle is just bad manners.
-Perhaps before jumping into verismo, this diva should thoroughly explore the heavier Czech repertoire. The glorious Rusalka, Jenufa, Katja Kabanova, and scores of other slavic ladies would give her characters to dig her teeth into, and music as uniquely suited to the voice as the bel canto that she has conquered.
-Why do we treat our classical audiences as though they are dumb? I truly TRULY believe that if presented with more challenging repertoire (as well as staging for opera fans), the audience will not fail to understand it, but relish the chance experience something that makes them think, and brings them closer to high art.
– Loki von Karajan
Related Links:
Legs and Aesthetic Density: Lulu at the Metropolitan Opera
Minimalist Druids and Shiny Druid Queens: Norma at the Metropolitan Opera
The Million Dollar Turandot in Cincinnati: A First Person Perspective
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