.jpg)
Audio & Video Reviews
Please note: The videos hosted in this page require Adobe's free Flash Player and a broadband internet connection.
CD Review: Parisina
Opera Rara ORC 40
*****
CD Review: L’elisir d’amore
Decca 478 1724
***
CD Review: Lucia di Lammermoor
Audite 23.412
**
Reviewed By George Hall
Written during the years of his developing maturity, and – though it doesn’t show – in considerable haste, due to the dilatoriness of his librettist, Felice Romani, Parisina (1833) enjoyed a very respectable career for the next few decades before disappearing, like most of Donizetti’s output, into obscurity for several more. It’s been rarely revived in our day, surprisingly, because the excellent text details a moving variant of the eternal operatic triangle – soprano and tenor in love, soprano’s baritone husband furiously vengeful – based on Byron, and Donizetti keeps his eye consistently on the ball in setting it to music. The result is one of the tautest and most gripping of all his scores. It is extremely well served in this new studio recording, with Dario Solari lyrically focused as Azzo, who is even prepared to have his own son killed for loving his wife, José Bros engaged as Ugo, the tragic son, and Carmen Giannattasio needing to do more with words but on top of the notes in the title role. David Parry conducts the London Philharmonic in an exciting account of this major work, and Donizetti fans need not hesitate.
The composer is celebrated in his equally characteristic lighter mode in a 1955 version of L’elisir d’amore, recorded in Florence in 1955 and showcasing the talents of Giuseppe di Stefano in pleasingly mellifluous mode, even with the odd vocal indiscretion (far too many aspirates!). Hilde Gueden is on the small side vocally as Adina, but pinpoint accurate and resolutely charming, Renato Capecchi a lightweight Belcore, and Fernando Corena a somewhat underachieving Dulcamara. With Francesco Molinari-Pradelli’s conducting tending towards the dutiful, it all adds up to modified rapture, I’m afraid.
The1953 German-language Lucia di Lammermoor broadcast by Berlin radio might seem of minor interest, but the cast contains notable names: Maria Stader (Lucia), Ernest Haefliger (Edgardo) and Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (Enrico). Fischer-Dieskau, if idiomatically wrong, explores text and music with real imagination. Stader, undoubtedly a light-voiced exponent of the title-role, is also technically uneven, and while Haefliger is a sweet-toned Edgardo he lacks anything in the way of Latin virility. The sound is bright and shallow, and while Ferenc Fricsay’s conducting has its points he allows all the bad old cuts.
CD Review: Jonas Kaufmann: Arias by Mozart, Schubert, Beethoven, Wagner
Decca 4781463
*****
Reviewed By Della Couling
When German tenor Jonas Kaufmann turned up at Decca’s door, those inside must have thought all their birthdays had come at once. He is young, slim, drop-dead gorgeous, intelligent and – not to be sneezed at – has a glorious voice. He is already singing in the world’s top houses, in a wide repertoire, but in this recording he shows us what he can do on home ground, with a selection of Wagner (Lohengrin, Walküre, Parsifal), Mozart (Zauberflöte), Schubert (Fierrabras, Alfonso und Estrella) and Beethoven (Fidelio).
For a young singer with such a slight figure, the voice, particularly in the lower register, is very powerful, with a burnished baritonal resonance in the maschera reminiscent of Domingo. Very occasionally, when the voice is being pushed, the throat sounds a little tight, which is something I hope he is keeping a watch on.
There is tremendous energy and commitment in the singing (assisted here by the top-quality support provided by Abbado and the Mahler Chamber Orchestra), and it is useful that, other than the Schubert, the arias are all well-known, making it easy for us to compare his forebears in these roles.
In Florestan’s ‘Gott! Welch Dunkel hier!’ he begins with a pianissimo, which swells as the aria proceeds, drawing in our sympathy right from the outset, and showing he is thinking a lot about interpretation. In the Mozart, we get, inevitably, ‘Dies Bildnis’, and then quite a long excerpt, with other singers, from later in the opera, beginning with ‘Die Weisheitslehre dieser Knaben’, in which he acquits himself well. But I predict a main career in Wagner (how wonderful to have a Wagner hero who looks like a hero!), and the heavier Verdi roles.
The CD cover, with Kaufmann standing on a crag dressed in black, in a parody of the famous Caspar David Friedrich painting, qualifies as naff cover of the month, but I suspect Kaufmann saw the funny side.
CD Review: The Mozart Album
Danielle de Niese
To be released: 19.10.09
DECCA 4781511
Reviewed by Yehuda Shapiro
In 1998 at the Met, Mozart gave Danielle de Niese her first big operatic opportunity as a genuinely teenage Barbarina. This September New York and Figaro again beckon for the soprano, now a Susanna and an acknowledged bête de scène. She will no doubt score another hit, but these operatic, concert and sacred arias reveal a less than consummate Mozartian. The interpretations are vivacious, but the voice – at least as recorded – can seem shallow and glary: Ilia needs more warmth and gravitas, while Donna Elvira is Zerlina in disguise. Sustained notes start ‘white’ before acquiring vibrato; coloratura tends to be glassy rather than pearly, and trills can be sketchy. Creditably, the soprano makes much of the words (perhaps too much in ‘Exsultate, jubilate’), but the abiding impression is of discrete verbal and musical syllables rather than sculpted phrases. It all comes together for Despina and for ‘Là ci darem la mano’ with a guest appearance from Bryn Terfel and more flattering microphone placement. As might be expected, Sir Charles Mackerras and the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment provide exquisitely judged accompaniment: the burbling basset horn in Susanna’s ‘Al desio di chi t’adoro’ (the rather formulaic alternative to ‘Deh, vieni’) is a particular pleasure.
Click on the link to hear excerpts and comments about the new release:
www.danielledeniese.com/mozart
Exclusive Film Review: La bohème. Lovers in close-up
Hannah Beynon gives the thumbs up to a new feature film version of La bohème which captures the most intimate moments of the doomed love affair at the heart of the story while sacrificing none of the theatricality and musical values of Puccini's opera.
For many opera lovers, La bohème comes as close to operatic perfection as you can get. So there was an understandable degree of panic among hardened Puccini purists when cinema decided to turn its focus on such a well-loved work. However, with what must be a touch of magic or simply pure genius, Oscar-nominated director Robert Dornhelm has not only managed to stay true to Puccini's story, but has also succeeded in adding another exciting and dynamic dimension to the opera, revealing parts of the work that can so easily be lost or underexposed in a stage version.
Through some cleverly thought out effects, Dornhelm succeeds in bringing all of La bohème's most intimate moments to life. Most effective of all is, undoubtedly, the final scene of the opera. As Mimì, played by the sublime Anna Netrebko, lies resting in a convincingly bohemian chair in Rodolfo's attic, her voice is heard singing her final aria 'Sono andati?' while the screen merges into a melancholic black and white slow motion sequence. Here, Mimì and Rodolfo's last kisses and embraces are captured tenderly by the camera, lingering on the pair for what longs to be an eternity. It's a fantastic moment that's especially compelling on film.
Another scene that has been brilliantly mastered for emotive effect takes place at the opening of Act III. Here, Mimì, her illness ever worsening, approaches the toll-gate in search of Rodolfo. Her despair and anguish are felt through Puccini's music, but also enhanced and reaffirmed through some wonderfully cinematic images: dressed head to toe in black, an image of her is shot from behind against the stark white snow, enhancing the cold and bleak atmosphere of this scene.
As well as transferring the Puccini's theatricality on to film with success, La bohème is also full to the brim with some of the best vocal talents of today. Singing the leads are two operatic celebrities who are known for 'a certain movie-star quality' and who, in this production, definitely live up to expectations. Both Anna Netrebko as the young (but not so innocent) Mimì and Rolando Villazón as Rodolfo appear relaxed and natural in front of the camera, adapting well to the big screen. Their voices are beautifully caught on playback, losing little in comparison with a live performance. As always, Netrebko exercises her charm, drawing you into every movement and sound she makes, with her velvety voice that is dramatically versatile and expressive.
Other singers that impress are Vitaly Kovalov as Colline, the Philosopher and George von Bergen as Marcello, the Painter who are both believable and moving in their acting and strong in their vocal roles - although credit for singing Marcello must be given to Boaz Daniel who was set to play the role but was subsequently unavailable for the filming.
The production certainly doesn't hold back on budget, and it manages to capture so much of the essence of Puccini's much loved opera, remaining true to story while, through clever filming, opening up a level of nuance that's difficult to explore in the opera house. Small changes of expression and gesture are caught by the cameras, creating a greater feeling of intimacy between audience and performer. The result is a breathtakingly dramatic and emotional La bohème that compares well to the best of its antecedents on stage.
DVD available from 2 March 2009
CD review: Madama Butterfly
Puccini
Reviewed by George Hall
January 2009
EMI's new recording of Madama Butterfly stands up well to comparisons with its illustrious predecessors
Puccini's Japanese tragedy has been recorded complete numerous times over the last 87 years, reflecting its huge and ongoing status as one of the world's most popular operas. Any new recording has, inevitably, a lot to live up to, since several of the major sets have acquired a classic status and remain in the catalogues decades after they were first released. Among those regularly cited as outstanding interpretations of the piece are the two led by Spanish soprano Victoria de los Angeles (1954, 1960); another two with Renata Scotto as the protagonist, especially the first (1966); the first of two with Mirella Freni in the lead (1978); and the single set with Maria Callas as Cio Cio San (1955). An earlier set with Toti Dal Monte in the lead and Beniamino Gigli as Pinkerton (1939) also has its admirers, despite more limited sound.
But today's leading singers and conductors also deserve the opportunity to place their conceptions of such major works on disc, and EMI's new Butterfly, led by Angela Gheorghiu's protagonist, is to be welcomed. Taken as a whole, there's certainly a great deal to admire in the result.
Recorded in Rome, with the Orchestra of the Accademia Nazionale di Santa Cecilia under its music director, Antonio Pappano, the set registers in first-class sound, with the score's wide range of colour and dynamic caught in detail as well as presented in a spacious overall acoustic. In few previous versions does the sheer brilliance of Puccini's magnificent orchestral writing seduce the ear as here.
Part of this highly successful aspect can be ascribed to the loving conducting of Pappano himself, a musician who seems to be able to enter into the spirit of the wide variety of composers he performs with remarkable sympathy and understanding. No other conductor today is as persuasive a Puccini interpreter as he, relishing as he does both the brash 'masculine' elements of the writing as well as the 'feminine' sensitive aspects. He certainly gets close to the standards set by Barbirolli in the 1966 Scotto recording, also made in Rome (at the Teatro dell'Opera), and in Karajan's two versions.
The title role is one of the great challenges, vocally and interpretatively, for a soprano voice combining the sheer beauty of a lyric instrument with the weight of a spinto. On record, at least, Angela Gheorghiu offers what is required. She also has a good sense of Puccinian style. Two things are lacking. Her 15-year-old child bride of the first act sounds much the same as the maturing adult of the rest of the opera; most of her great predecessors (especially Dal Monte and Callas) make a significant difference in the kinds of sounds they deploy to differentiate them. Secondly, and more crucially, hers is a far more generalised approach than many, not engaging with the text in the moment-by-moment way that the singers mentioned above do. The result, ultimately, is less involving.
The discriminating tenor Jonas Kaufmann sings a very fine Pinkerton, a touch baritonal in quality but none the worse for that. What he does lack, inevitably, is the Italianate quality that artists like Gigli, Carlo Bergonzi and Pavarotti have brought to the role - an American, admittedly, but most effectively sung with a Latin dynamism and impetuousness contained within the tone itself. His is nevertheless a highly intelligent and stylish reading.
There is strong support from an emotionally committed Enkelejda Shkosa in the crucial role of Suzuki from and from Fabio Capitanucci as a perceptive and three-dimensional Sharpless. In smaller assignments, Gregory Bonfatti presents a plausible rogue of a Goro and Raymond Aceto is a terrifyingly authoritative Bonze.
The new recording of Madama Butterfly is scheduled for release in March 2009. EMI 2641872
Live Review: Manon Lescaut
Puccini
New Orleans Opera
USA
Reviewed by Karyl Charna Lynn
Images by Janet Wilson
On Saturday, January 17, 2009, the New Orleans Opera returns to its newly restored home, the Mahalia Jackson Theatre for the Performing Arts, three and a half years after hurricane Katrina severely damaged the structure. Opera Now’s US correspondent, Karyl Charna Lynn, will be there, reporting on the company’s long awaited homecoming celebration and refurbished opera house. Here, she reports from the final production in the temporary space that was used by New Orleans opera during its exile.
There’s a bitter irony in a New Orleans audience watching Manon die in the desert outside of their city. As everyone knows, the problem there is not too little water, but too much. And because in 2005 hurricane Katrina flooded its permanent home, the Mahalia Jackson Theatre for the Performing Arts, the company has been performing in a wingless, fly-less, and tiny pit auditorium while the theatre has been repaired. Despite these obstacles, the company offered an attractive, if predictable, staging of the opera that captured the desperate passion between Manon and Des Grieux with dazzling singing and believable acting so their defiance of social convention and the resulting tragic consequences was credible.
Click to enlarge
Manon Lescaut hadn’t been performed in the city in more than three decades, although Massenet’s Manon is popular fare, due to the French connection, so the supertitles, in addition to translating what was sung, offered periodic explanations of the story, putting the action in context for the audience.
Surmounting the inherent difficulties in staging opera in a venue not built for it with creative use of the limited stage space, the production offered handsome sets which realistically, (and by necessity, simplistically) recreated the different locations (Amiens Square, Bedroom in Geronte’s House, Le Havre, New Orleans ‘desert’), but it was the galvanising chemistry of the cast which made it an evening to remember. Melody Moore was an exciting Manon, with volcanic eruptions of vibrant, yet nuanced singing. Her ‘sola, perduta, abbandonata’ was achingly intense. Roy Smith sang Des Grieux with impassioned artistry, with an idiomatic ringing Italianate sound and fine vocal colour. ‘Guardate, pazzo son’ tore the heartstrings.
Click to enlarge
Brian Mulligan (Lescaut) has a notable instrument with an individual vocal timbre. Timothy Nolen portrayed Geronte with aplomb. Of special note was the New Orleans Opera Chorus, under Carol Rausch's direction, which proved a formidable asset throughout the performance.
Click to enlarge
Puccini’s opera reflects a fusion of strong French influence, with its melodic evocation of atmosphere and place. Puccini made reference to ‘powder and minuets’ from Massenet’s Manon, along with Wagner’s chromatic music, leitmotifs and musical depiction of unrestrained passion from Tristan und Isolde, and music that he borrowed from his own earlier compositions. Under the capable baton of Robert Lyall, the 38-musician orchestra not only expertly captured the diverse aspects of the music, but offered a surprisingly rich, full sound that belied its small size.
Karyl Charna Lynn’s report on the opening of the restored Mahalia Jackson Theatre for the Performing Arts in New Orleans will be posted in our web news section. A full report will appear in the March/April issue of Opera Now
Live Review: Welcome to the voice
Steve Nieve
THÉÂTRE DU CHÂTELET
PARIS
Reviewed by Antonia Couling
21 November 2008
Images by Marie-Noëlle Robert
Opera Now reports on a world premiere, starring pop icons Sting and Elvis Costello
As Steve Nieve and Muriel Teodori’s opera Welcome to the Voice is a work about the celebration of the human voice, it was a pleasant surprise not to have one’s expectations of melody and beauty dashed. The overture begins with a single, open, almost vocal line for cello, building to clusters of clawing strings with muted trumpet cutting across. A back screen projected a steelworks – its fire and imagined noise very much at odds with the music we were hearing. After a few minutes, the mood changes to flowering piano – pleasing, expressive – then changes again to reflective, lighter string exchanges. Thus the musical mood was set, with strings and piano featuring most, and no brass apart from solo interjections.
Click to enlarge
As the central figure Dionysos, a steelworker and son of a Greek immigrant, Sting made his entrance stage-front through the mist, and addressed the audience with his story: how he discovered opera one day, which led to an obsessive collecting opera recordings. It becomes clear that he is waiting near the steps of the opera house, as he does every day and night, to catch a glimpse of the opera singer who has become the embodiment of his obsession.
On a cold set of glass building façades and scaffolding (sets by Bernard Arnould), we see him visited by the Ghosts of the Opera – Carmen, Butterfly and Norma – who beseech him to die and join them in opera heaven. Pulling at him from the other side is Dionysos’ Friend, played by Sting’s son Joe Sumner (who must have an exact replica of his father’s voicebox in his throat, so similar is the essential tone of his voice), who constantly tries to persuade him that his passion for opera will make him lose his fight for real causes.
Click to enlarge
The workers sing the names of their heroes, while Dionysos lists the names of composers. In a beautiful declamatory aria, he expresses his passion for the power of the human voice in all its forms, from opera to the lullaby and songs of freedom. Eventually, Dionysos is offered the chance he has been waiting for when the Opera Singer comes out of a perfume shop. He tries to kiss her, but she is afraid and pushes him away. The police arrive along with a huge crowd of bystanders, the homeless and Dionysos’ workmates.
Click to enlarge
The Chief of Police (Elvis Costello) utters a raging diatribe against the street people and just as Dionysos is about to be taken off to prison, the Opera Singer stands up for Dionysos with a passionate declaration of love. Her words save him. Everyone rejoices, except the Chief of Police who expresses his fear that he may never feel such an emotion.
Click to enlarge
He then explains to Dionysos that the Opera Singer has actually left for Tokyo and that she spoke up only to save herself from bad publicity. Dionysos is in despair. But the Ghosts of the Opera interfere and create a huge windstorm, which forces the cancellation of all plane flights. The Opera Singer re-appears and Dionysos is filled with renewed hope on seeing her. The two agree on the ‘unlikely’ nature of their encounter and conclude the opera with a duet.
Click to enlarge
Dressed in shabby, muted greys – almost tramp-like – Dionysos is very much a Brechtian figure whose journey of discovery leads us to the understanding of a lesson – in this case, the appreciation of the human voice. The music too is reminiscent of Weill (indeed Weill is listed as one of Dionysos’ composer heroes – a clue perhaps to Nieve’s influences). The libretto is rich and flowing pretty much most of the time, falling only occasionally into the slightly preaching, but not enough to detract from the impact of the opera’s message.
Click to enlarge
The juxtaposition of the pop voices of Sting and Costello with the classical voices of the opera singers was intentional as a means of underlining the different types of beauty the human voice can possess. The piece was written with these artists in mind and had already been recorded in 2007 – with Barbara Bonney as the opera singer. Sting himself opted for a slightly more musical theatre voice than we are accustomed to hearing from him, but was nonetheless consistantly true to the idiosyncracies of his own voice. Costello seemed to struggle slightly more with the leaps and range demanded of him, but again we are familiar with his sound and Nieve wrote sensitively for him, allowing the pathos that is inherent in Costello’s voice to come out. It was very effective to have two such unique and instantly recognisable voices placed against the more general, flowing beauty of the opera singers. And all four opera singers were outstanding. The Ghosts – Marie-Ange Todorovich as Carmen, Sonya Yoncheva as Butterfly and Anna Gabier as Norma – fulfilled their roles to the max, both physically and vocally. But the crowning glory had to be Sylvia Schwartz as Lily, the Opera Singer. In a most beautiful piece of writing for the voice, her declaration of love for Dionysos displayed the entire range of her sensitive, spun tone.
In all, Nieve should be congratulated for his ability to display the full beauty of the voices he is writing for – a rare gift these days – and one which gives meaning to the whole argument of the opera. Little wonder that there was a spontaneous standing ovation at the end. ANTONIA COULING
Live Review: Don Carlo
Giuseppe Verdi
TEATRO ALLA SCALA, MILAN
ITALY
Reviewed by Juliet Giraldi
10 December 2008
Images by Marco Brescia
Opera Now reports from this year’s season opener at La Scala – Verdi’s Don Carlo
This was a severe but poetic production by Stéphane Braunschweig, an implacable delving into the intimate recesses of the human soul and the strengths and weaknesses of human nature.
The opening night turned into a fiasco when supporters of Giuseppe Filianoti loudly protested the tenor’s unceremonious last-minute sacking from the title role (opening night at La Scala wouldn’t be the same without some drama off stage as well as on). On the second night, the opera received a dignified if not exactly rapturous reception. Conductor Daniele Gatti, after a fairly uncertain first act with a conspicuous lack of cohesion between pit and stage, reassured by a more sympathetic audience, was finally able to express all the pent-up passion of Verdi’s music, achieving some big, exciting episodes as well as moments of melancholic tenderness.
Click to enlarge
The production emphasised the contrast between the optimism and promise of childhood and the harsh realities of the adult world: the child’s world, in colour, was projected back stage; the adult world was a large empty space in the foreground in stark black and white. One inventive touch was the appearance down stage of the three main protagonists as children: the encounter of the royal princes in the forest of Fontainebleau (against Carlo’s aria ‘Io la vidi e il suo sorriso’) and the swearing of the oath of reciprocal loyalty between Carlo and Rodrigo neatly replaced the whole of the first act of the five-act French version. These three childish figures were to reappear at intervals during the opera, so there was this constant visual reminder, reflected in the music, of their happy past.
In stark contrast was the dreaded Inquisition. Against a black background, a row of vertical white slabs serve as cell doors, with clearly sepulchral associations, and the white marble tombstone of Carlo V appears at the front of the stage. The friars, dressed in black and white, their faces hidden behind their cowls, enter accompanied by the grim motif of the double basses.
The simple sets set off the rich period costumes by Thibault von Craenenbroeck; Filippo in waspish black and yellow stripes, the ladies in white silks and pearls, the Queen magnificent first in ivory, later in black. In a quirky piece of telling anachronism, the thronging mob in the tremendous auto da fé scene could be glimpsed dressed in costumes from Franco’s Spain, behind a row of 16th-century soldiers.
Click to enlarge
Unfamiliar to Italian audiences, the American tenor Stuart Neill as Don Carlo came as a pleasant surprise. His physical bulk does him no favours: he certainly doesn’t fit the figure of a pining, lovelorn young prince. But his voice is a subtle and lovely one – ranging from generous and well-projected to the gentlest pianissimi; his vocal production is faultless and his Italian pronunciation excellent.
Click to enlarge
Ferruccio Furlanetto portrayed Filippo as an obstinate, tired, deluded and solitary figure; one of the best scenes was the famous encounter with the blind Grand Inquisitor, admirably played by Anatolij Kotscherga; but the ‘jealousy scene’ was equally powerful, and the pathetic way in which, after his outburst, Filippo cradled the swooning Queen, in a gesture of immediate regret and tenderness, was a masterly touch. Fiorenza Cedolins gave a moving interpretation of the dignified and dutiful Queen. As always her voice was true and beautifully modulated, although it was occasionally overpowered by a dominant orchestra. Her ‘Carlo, addio’ was particularly poignant. Dolora Zajick as Princess Eboli was certainly more convincing as the ‘tigre ferita’ than the alluring seductress and she came into her own later as soon as she could give vent to Eboli’s fiery character, with those rich and penetrating low notes. Dalibor Jenis gave a passionate interpretation of the heroic Rodrigo and Gabor Bretz stood out in the small bass part of the Friar and Carlo V.
Click to enlarge
Don Carlo continues at the Teatro alla Scala, Milan, until 15 January 2009
DVD Reviews
More reviews of new DVD releases will appear in next issue of Opera Now, available by single copy or subscription. Order your copy or subscription.
Rossini from Glyndebourne
John Cox's productions of Il barbiere di Siviglia (view clip) and La Cenerentola (view clip), both staged in the old house at Glyndebourne in the 1980s, together with Jérôme Savary's 1997 production of Le Comte Ory (view clip) from the new house, are the operas featured on this special three production set.
Cox approaches his productions with complete fidelity to the composer, resulting in totally believable performances from casts clearly having fun. John Rawnsley is the ebullient Figaro, Maria Ewing the sparky Rosina in a superb Barbiere di Siviglia. Kathleen Kuhlmann is a delight in Cenerentola and there is a masterclass in comic timing from Claudio Desderi as her father.
From the moment the cardboard cows, heads nodding, plod across the stage in Savary's picture-book production of Le Comte Ory, stylishly conducted by Andrew Davis, you know it is going to be fast paced and exuberant. The singing does not disappoint either with Annick Massis outstanding as the Countess. Belgian tenor Marc Laho sings the title role, Diana Montague is the perky Isolier and the chorus has a whale of a time. This set will give endless pleasure.
Warner Music 50-51442-7848-2-4
Carmen
This is a performance from London's Royal Opera House that works better on film than it did in the house in 2006, where it seemed dramatically inert and Francesca Zambello's production came across as feeble Zeffirelli-on-a-budget stuff. But Jonathan Haswell's television production works wonders, making it all look lavish and highlighting two fine central performances.
Anna Caterina Antonacci performs a magnetic, earthy Carmen. She's very sexy physically, but her voice, though tensile, is not rich enough to provide the ultimate vocal thrills the role demands. Jonas Kaufmann (view clip above) is a fascinating Don José, growing from repressed soldier to deranged killer, and he sings the role with seductive subtlety.
