Why has there been such a sudden interest in rare Rossini lately? I have to admit, I’m not very interested in Rossini’s operas, which are more about showy vocalism and less about telling a story. I guess that’s why, of the three Bel Canto composers, I love Bellini’s music the most. Bellini was notorious for spending days (sometimes weeks) slowly and methodically composing vocal lines for his singers. With Bellini’s music, the words are inseparable from the text and every florid run or cadenza has a purpose. A REAL purpose. This is not always the case with Rossini. 

In his panning of Renee Fleming’s star turn as “Armida” at the Metropolitan Opera last year, critic Zachary Woolfe wrote, “Armida’s charms, irresistible to most of the men in the opera, are vocally driven. Her elaborate coloratura—the runs, trills and other fancy stuff—parallels her dazzling illusions—the soldiers’ love, a magic garden. It’s impossible to create the character, in other words, without singing the notes.” Okay. I’ll buy it. But I feel like this excuse is used far too often with Rossini - and it is merely opera critics and musicologists grasping at straws. Lest anyone forget, Rossini CONSTANTLY recycled bits of music, or would take pieces from his other existing operas, and use them in later works. Case in point: “Non piu mesta” from “La Cenerentola” was originally the tenor’s finale aria in “Il Barbiere di Siviglia” (see the video above.) How could anyone justify the music in “Cenerentola” being character specific if it was composed for a completely different character in a completely different opera?

I think the sudden resurgence of interest in Rossini probably boils down to three basic points: A) Rossini’s music is easy-listening and full of crowd-pleasing set-piece arias that are guaranteed to delight audiences. B) We’re in the age of singing as an Olympic event and audiences love singers who can “show off” their voices with trills, runs, and cadenzas. C) We have more Rossini singers these days. With their attractive looks and medium-size yet flexible voices, singers such as Juan Diego Florez, Diana Damrau, Lawrence Brownlee, and Joyce DiDonato are bona fide opera stars who can nail every note in a Rossini line like it’s no one else’s business. The audience loves them and they are guaranteed to sell out at the box office every time.

Alas, for those of us who still believe in opera as theater, this latest bout of Rossini-mania is further proof that opera goers would just as soon watch a sing-off than a night of gripping lyric-theater.

Admit it. You wish you were the hotness and talent that is Elīna Garanča. Her Carmen two years ago, was one of the best Met performances of the season and she was saxxxy as hell! idontgiveafach is on record as hating Rossini, but in this charming production of “La Cenerentola,” Garanča made a case for this horrible opera. And I must admit this aria is really cool. I don’t how anyone could sing like this!

I don’t understand why everyone hated this performance. But I guess that’s why I’ll never be an opera singer…

To call Renée Fleming’s Armida a disaster, is to put it mildly. According to the press, Ms. Fleming found great success with the role in the early 90’s, but her recent performance in Mary Zimmerman’s new production at the Metropolitan Opera was considered a huge misstep at this stage of her career.

Opinions of the overall production were varied, but the general consensus was that Ms. Fleming’s voice lacked the agility and youthful bloom it once possessed to pull off this notoriously difficult role. Many faulted her execution of the coloratura passagework, especially her decision to excise various runs and trills written in the score.

The argument is that Armida is a sorceress and her ethereal, otherworldly qualities are represented in her vocal lines. Rossini wrote the character with lots of fiorituras, cadenzas, and various vocal fireworks to underscore the character’s magisterial qualities. Not being a Rossini expert (I hate him), or a fan of showy vocal writing (see: Handel), I’ll have to take their word for it. 

For the record, I didn’t see Armida (did I mention I hate Rossini?) and I’ve been a die-hard Fleming fan since I saw her in Rosenkavalier, so I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt. But a lot of early operas exist soley to show off a glorious soprano voice. Acting is either an afterthought or an absurd notion to even consider. I have a hunch that Armida falls squarely into this category. 

So, one has to question Ms. Fleming’s judgement. In a recent interview, comparing her role in Capriccio to Armida, Ms. Fleming stated, “These two roles represent the extremes of what I can do on the operatic stage. Capriccio is about expressing text and details; Armida is vocal display. It’s completely virtuosic, it’s athletic. Bel canto is about showing the entire range of colors. The text is secondary.”

One has to question why Ms. Fleming is drawn to Armida. Beyond the hocus pocusy magic element, there seems to be little to the character. It’s all the more jarring considering Ms. Fleming is notorious for choosing rep that suits her voice and satisfies her dramatically. The Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier, is perhaps the most complex woman in all of opera. This is a role Ms. Fleming has mastered and she is spellbinding in the part.

When all you have in a role is vocal fireworks, you’re just asking to be fed to the dogs (especially if it’s a signature Callas role). Sadly, Ms. Fleming is going to have to live with this Armida for a while…well, that and “Dark Hope.” I guess it just wasn’t her year.

In conjunction with my article about Le Comte Ory at the Metropolitan Opera this week, I got to thinking about singers today. As usual, the critics had their way with each singer’s voice. The problem is, tastes are so diverse and so personal, it’s hard to really get a general consensus. The laundry list of qualifications - Is it really Bel Canto singing? Is the voice warm enough? Is the coloratura precise? Is the voice too small? - all play an unfair factor in assessing a singer…and you thought the fashion industry presented an unrealistic standard of beauty?

Every critic judges a voice based on some paradigm - consciously or otherwise - and so, most assessments of singers comes down to simple comparison. Here in lies the problem: every voice is different. Every. It’s the same as attempting to judge which fingerprint is the best.

Personally, I tend to favor singers who use their voices as an instrument for the drama. I welcome expressivity, unique phrasing, even ornamentations as long as they are justified by intention and drawn from the text. Sure, there are certain vocal qualities that are not to my taste, and there are voices that are just plain bad. The ultimate measure for a singer’s sound should be, Is this a sound you want to listen to?

But when I’m in an opera house, I want more than sounds. I want artistry, personality, and risk.

Diana Damrau is an extremely talented young artist. She is - by and large - beloved by the opera public for her musicianship and technical prowess.

I seem to be in the minority of people who are not totally enamored with everything she does. She has a beautiful voice - I find it a tad strident at times - and she’s an intense, energetic actress. I just haven’t been moved by her on stage before. To me, she seems to lack any personal statement as an actress and artist.

So, I found myself perturbed after reading Anne Midgette’s assessment of her performance in Le Comte Ory. Ms. Midgette wrote, “[Diana Damrau] phrased with skill and sensitivity to express the nuances of her character’s sometimes outraged modesty. I wanted a little less nuance. Italian opera wasn’t written to be delievered with good taste; I wished Damrau had taken more opportunity to show off.”

As a longtime reader/fan of Ms. Midgette, I found this comment to be puerile and insulting. Clearly, Ms. Midgette wants Ms. Damrau to sing her music with a gorgeous tone in full voice…and nothing else. Essentially, Ms. Midgette is implying that Ms. Damrau’s singing is too thoughtful and personal, when it should just be blandly pretty. Whatever happened to musicianship? Why shouldn’t she sing this music her own way? Without any personal stamp, what distinguishes her from any other soprano? Moreover, isn’t the practice of pulling nuances from the music part of the drama? I would define that as acting through the voice - something which opera critics bemoan the loss of.

More frightening was a blurb on Ms. Damrau in an article by Anthony Tommasini who wrote, “Some critics thought Ms. Damrau’s Rosina in Bartlett Sher’s inventive new production of Rossini’s “Barbiere di Siviglia” this season was too willful and intense; a sweet but resolute young woman emerged as a quarrelsome spitfire.”

What is the point of performing these operas time and again if you don’t have a fresh take on them? It is stultifying enough to put a mandate on singing, but the suggestion that there is only one way to play a certain character debunks all notion of opera as drama. This isn’t literature, it’s theater.

No one asks Kevin Kline to do Hamlet ala Sr. Lawrence Olivier. Why not release Rosina from the clutches of…god. Who knows how many sopranos!?