Met HD Orfeo

[sandik]

Anyone going tomorrow (Jan 24)?

[bart]

Yes ! I'll be thinking of you, from the other end (and corner) of the country. The "live" aspect of this really is incredible to me, and I've been looking forward to seeing the Morris for a long time.

[kfw]

I'll be watching too; I love this story. The NY Times review of opening night is accompanied by a lonnnng sound clip. The Times has also published a piece on this production's Euridice, Danielle de Niese.

[bart]

No comments yet? I'm hesitant to start because this was the only Met HDLive performance I've seen which deeply disappointed me.

The single exception: when Stephanie Blythe and Danielle De Niese were together on stage (Act II) all was beautiful: singing, acting, scenery (a marvellous cave whose walls were made of what appeared to be sparkling coal-black diamonds).

On the negative side:

1) -- our theater's sound system created a world in which volume came only in grades of LOUD. Even after the Furies were done, there was no adjustment to softness, no suggestion of peace or tranquility, as commanded by the score and practiced in the recordings I've heard and other productions I've attended.

2) -- the setting, one more of those heavy scaffolded affairs (made of metal lathe, it appeared). The chorus stood in lines (one on top of another) staring down at the action. Each chorister was dressed in what appeared to be very detailed costuming as a figure in history. Lincoln, Elizabeth the I, the Duce, a New World Indian, Princess Di, and so on and on and on. In Act I they punctuared their singing with little jerky arm motions.

I can think of several points that Morris might have been trying to make by this imagery. But actually watching these people gave me the sense of attending a high-school Social Studies pageant (with a VERY high budget). It was also very distracting.

3) -- Mark Morris is credited for the "Production." I was very much looking forward to his choreography, so this was the greatest disappointed of all. I could not believe my eyes.

Morris's company has become, since I last saw it 2 years ago, almost a caricature showcase of diverse body types. Each was dressed in contemporary leisure or athletic wear, many with unflattering old-fashioned tennis shoes. The choreographic vocabulary was limited, repetitive, insensitive to the music, and never -- undoubtably by Morris' choice -- lovely. A tall very thin woman with a bad haircut wore low-cut sneakers on her long, narrow feet. This underlined her gawkkyness and called attention to her feet as they slapped the floor.

The end of the opera has a sequence or divertissement consisting of lovely dance music. The parts are described in the New Grove as "Gracieux," "Gavotte," Air vif," Menuet" etc., supposedly performed as a celebration in the "Temple of Cupid." Morris conceived the choreography as rather basic step-by-number dances of the sort that are sometimes called "rustic.". . Simple combinations were repeated and repeated, with little invention or even joy. The whole thing contradicted the spirit of the story and violated the music.

As I listened to Morris's strange interview (conducted by Joyce Di Donato) and watched his body language during the final bows, two thoughts crossed my befuddled brain: it's either (a) a very personal satire on the work or on the world of higher culture or (b) it's an ego trip . He claims to adore Gluck and appeared to be delighted to have been given so much power at the Met, so it probably isn't (a).

So what WAS going on? (I'm hoping to be told that I all or most of it wrong, possibly a result of someone slipping a hallucinogen into my popcorn.)

[Helene]

I saw it from a very cushy, reclining seat at the Maxim theater in Helsinki, where I was until this morning for the European Figure Skating Championships. That seat was a double-edged sword, since my two friends and I were suffering from extreme sleep deficit, and I admit to a couple of woozy moments, but my impression was the same as bart's. Blythe can seem static to a lot of people, and the production was conceived for Lorraine Hunt Lieberson, but I love her voice, particularly its gravity. Danielle de Niese was a joy to watch and hear. Together, they were a dream.

I understand what Morris was trying to do, at least in the last dance, but meh, meh, meh, meh, meh: boring, awkward, and plodding. Or as the Finns at the arena seems to use for something shocking in the way my grandmother used the Yiddish "oy" -- for good and bad -- oi, oi, oi, oi, oi. (Although I doubt that's the spelling.)

I liked Joyce di Donato as the host very much, even if she was reading off the teleprompter. I hope they use her more often. I can't imagine her being as fatuous in an artist interview as Fleming has been.

James Levine might be the most relentlessly enthusiastic person on the planet.

[bart]

I liked Joyce di Donato as the host very much, even if she was reading off the teleprompter. I hope they use her more often. I can't imagine her being as fatuous in an artist interview as Fleming has been.

Donato and Voight have real talent for this -- total command of the material, while giving the impression of spontaneity. Much as I admire Graham, who comes across as amazingly sharp and prepared, she is less effective. I agree, Helene, about Fleming/ perhaps she is over-extending herself.

[kfw]

Bart and Helene, I was really glad to read your comments, although I didn't share your feelings. The sound in the beautiful theater I heard this in was, if anything, too low for much of the opera, especially in Act 1. Only later did I feel enveloped in the music. In the first act I also wanted Blythe's/Orfeo's voice to be a little louder in relation to the orchestra. This may reflect my lack of familiarity with baroque performance traditions; in any case, as the opera went on, Blythe's voice did emerge more, so that the softer start made the performance as a whole more effective dramatically.

My wife didn't care for the stark scaffolding either. For me it was a fitting reminder of the judgment of history. That said, I wish Morris had found some dramatically coherent way – during the overture, I guess -- to show us the historical characters before the action really got underway, because I too found noticing individual figures for the first time (look, there’s Rosa Parks next to Jimi Hendrix!) to be distracting. It was also amusing, and this isn’t a comedic opera, except for the scenes with Amor.

Your knowledge of dance and dance history dwarfs mine, to say the least, but I loved the dancing as much as the gorgeous singing. Bart, in regards to the diversity of body types that struck you as a caricature showcase, I wouldn’t want to see that in ballet, of course – I want ideals there -- but here it moved me deeply, not the least as an expression of diversity and community. I also loved the changing camara angles, some of which maybe didn’t serve the choreography well, but brought us, as it were, into the middle of the stage space. Not having seen or heard this opera before, I had no idea it would have so much room for dancing, and I was delighted that it did.

Given your reservations about the choreography, bart, I understand your wondering about Morris' motives, but I didn’t notice anything different in his body language than I remember from previous television appearances.

[dirac]

Thanks for posting, everyone. I missed it. sandik, were you able to see it on Sunday?

[sandik]

Sorry to be late to the party -- I got hung up reading about other productions.

Morris has worked on this opera several times, starting in 1988 at Seattle Opera, just as a choreographer. He came back to the Gluck in 1996, collaborating with the Handel & Haydn Society, with a production that toured. I didn't get the chance to see it, but judging from the photos it was a more nymphs and shepherds production visually. This current production at the Met is from 2007, and he both directs and choreographs. For this current production, the set is by James Ingalls and the costumes by Isaac Mizrahi -- Morris has worked with both artists previously. As I understand it, the majority of the dancers in the Met performances are from the Mark Morris Dance Group, but there are some members of the Met Opera Ballet as well.

I loved the production, and I'm afraid that I loved best some of the elements that other people here found objectionable. I thought the conceit of making the chorus a collection of dead celebrities was stunning, and I didn't feel at all distracted by their distinctive presence. I loved the fact that Joan of Arc was seated beside an astronaut and Jimi Hendrix was next to a grand Edwardian lady. With the chorus dressed in pedestrian clothing, it reversed the cliche that the famous become just another body when they're dead. And with Orpheus all in black, with a guitar as a lyre, it seemed that he was related to Johnny Cash.

Morris has always cast a much wider variety of body types than the standard modern dance maker, and although his current company is a bit more uniform than previous iterations, this ensemble felt right for his aesthetic. And the weighted, unisex phrases were a lovely connection to his youthful experiences as a folk dancer. I don't know if there are any connections between the dances in this new production and his previous work with this opera, but some of the partnering here feels similar to his early choreography in dances like The Office and New Love Song Waltzes.

I did think that the camera work was a trifle busy to really see the dancing, and the lighting seemed a bit dark, though some of my colleagues were speculating that it was the projector in the theater (they thought that other operas in the series were also too dim). The scene as Orpheus and Eurydice were traveling out of Hades was actually dark, and probably read better live than on camera, but I do love seeing the characters close up, so am willing to trade one thing for another.

The Morris company website has some helpful background information on his various productions, and links to several reviews and interviews about this current staging.

Mark Morris Dance Group

And Alistair Macaulay's review from the NYT is very informative.

NYT review

[kfw]

Morris has worked on this opera several times, starting in 1988 at Seattle Opera, just as a choreographer. He came back to the Gluck in 1996, collaborating with the Handel & Haydn Society, with a production that toured. I didn't get the chance to see it, but judging from the photos it was a more nymphs and shepherds production visually.

Thanks for writing, sandik. Searching back issues of Ballet Review for the issue, which I never did find, with photos of Balanchine's production of the opera for the Met, I ran across photos of the 1996 Morris version: bare feet, togas and robes, skirts on the men when they're barechested. Very much a Grecian, as you say, nymphs and shepards look. It's the summer 1996 issue if anyone's interested.

[dancefan2]

NONE, I repeat, NONE of the dancers in the HD Orfeo were dancers from the Mark Morris Dance Group. Mark Morris did do the choreograhy, but the dancers were MET DANCERS. Therefore, the insulting remarks listed regarding the body types of the dancers, etc. were totally without merit. The Group has performed this opera at the Met, but not this time. They actually had other commitments--Kennedy Center.

[sandik]

NONE, I repeat, NONE of the dancers in the HD Orfeo were dancers from the Mark Morris Dance Group.

Thanks for clarifying this -- the credits zoomed by too fast for me in the theater and I couldn't find a complete cast list online. I didn't think they looked familiar, but I don't know the current company roster very well.

[Helene]

Therefore, the insulting remarks listed regarding the body types of the dancers, etc. were totally without merit.

The remarks about body types are just as relevant; they just don't apply in this instance to MMDG, although, as sandik rightly pointed out, Morris has always favored a diversity of body types.

This is a discussion board, and criticism is part of this community. We are not a fan board.