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Blog entries tagged with Cosi

Rehearsals are underway!

Photo by Robert Millard

With the first two productions of the season now in rehearsal, there’s a lot going on around here. Here are two of the stars of “Eugene Onegin,” Ekaterina Semenchuk (Olga) and Dalibor Jenis (Onegin), ready to get to work!

Today is a fairly typical day: costume fittings (and a couple of wig fittings) for the “Onegin” principals all morning, followed by an afternoon run-through of Act 1, then an evening choreography rehearsal with the principals and dancers for the Act 2 ball scene. The “Cosi” principals have a staging rehearsal this afternoon, and another staging rehearsal tonight when they’ll be joined by the chorus and supers. Despina (Roxana Constantinescu) also has a costume fitting. There are vocal coachings for some of the young artists who are covering leading roles. Like we said: a fairly typical day!


Raves for Così fan tutte

There are only three more chances to see one of the most delightful Mozart productions you are ever likely to see! The critics have weighed in on our Così fan tutte , and they loved what they saw and heard (click on the links to access the full reviews).

“Sexy, red-blooded…something special. The young cast of this Così is cause for celebration.” ( LA Times , Mark Swed)

“This Così fan tutte is vocal dynamite… The orchestra delivered a world class Mozart performance… great singing, superb musicianship, and first-class comedic acting chops.” ( Out West Arts , Brian Holt)

“Smart, elegant and cohesive; all the components are top quality… James Conlon’s conducting is par excellence. Nothing can top this Così fan tutte . A ‘must see.’” ( ConcertoNet , Christie Grimstad)

“Fantastically entertaining… we are hard-pressed to imagine a more perfect apotheosis of Mozart’s exuberantly cynical opera… If you’re at all inclined to go see Così fan tutte—anywhere, ever—this is the one not to miss.” ( LAist , Lyle Zimskind)


Another Opening, Another Show

The curtain has risen on the 2011/12 with a fantastic performance of Eugene Onegin. How about some Mozart to keep the celebration going? Cosi fan tutte opens tomorrow at 2pm. If you can’t be here with us in the theater, join us at home by listening to our live radio broadcast at KUSC 91.5 fm (or online at www.kusc.org).


We’re number one!

With our season opening this weekend, we’re #1 on the “Los Angeles Downtown News” list of top five things to do this weekend. Click here for your weekend entertainment to-do list.


Ten Questions for Aleksandra Kurzak

When our Fiordiligi, Aleksandra Kurzak, took on the Out West Arts questionnaire, we found out that she was destined from birth to be an opera singer. Click here to find out why.

Photo by Andrzej Swietlik




The Dark Side of the Age of Reason

By James Kincaid

Twist it how you will, Così fan tutte is a squirm-inducing opera. It’s been suggested that one is best served by blocking out the lyrics, blinding oneself to the supertitles. Short of that, we seem to be faced with a bitter fable that asks us to regard as comically satisfying a set of humiliations and betrayals,  set up to illustrate the universal truth that women are faithless and stupid.

So challenging is Così fan tutte [Women Are Like That] that, after some initial success, it all but disappeared from opera houses for 200 years. American opera houses were the most resistant, avoiding this collaboration of Mozart and Da Ponte until 1927. Mozart’s first biographer, Niemetschek, called it “a trashy text.” Later composers were even harsher: Beethoven called it “immoral” and Wagner dismissed it as “unworthy.”

How do we understand such fury? One way is to mount our usual high horse: those Romantics and Victorians were unable to understand the opera as we do. Claiming to be more sophisticated and insightful than a whole century is a dangerous game to play, but it may be a game worth playing, for all that. The 19th century was not very well attuned to comedy of any sort, much less the worldly, pragmatic comedy that Così fan tutte sets out. Reacting as the century did to the cold rationalism of the Enlightenment, they pressed idealistic figurings of human capacity as far as they could be stretched. An opera which ridicules such idealism could not sit well with an age so hell-bent on perfection, and this opera may be more attractive to us battered 21st-century sorts when it is urging us to take the world as we find it, live in it, fluff up our own pillows and make others comfortable too.

This atmosphere of easy tolerance can be emphasized in some productions, especially if Don Alfonso is made more avuncular and whimsical than cynical when he pointedly swears not “by heaven” but “by earth.” It is “earth” which rules here in Così, a warm ac-ceptance of things and a willingness not to calculate too closely others’ wrongs. In that vein, it makes us think of golden comedies of accommodation, of Shakespeare’s romances, of Groucho and Mae West. It’s not a small thing when such glorious music allows us to laugh at our limitations, flightiness, and deep frailty.

Yes, but the flightiness, frailty, the ready capacity to betray, the mindless selfishness we may possibly be cajoled into welcoming into our hearts is, in Così, pretty much confined to women. “Tutte” is feminine, after all, and to be “like that” means, apparently, to be capable to vowing eternal love to one person in the morning and to another in the after-noon.

How do we escape the feeling that we are wallowing in the darkest side of the Enlightenment, that Age of Reason which almost always denied that faculty to women? This dark misogyny amounted sometimes almost to sadism, as in the fierce comments of Diderot and Voltaire and the milder but no less certain ones of Thomas Jefferson and, memorably, Benjamin Franklin, who wrote “When women cease to be handsome they study to be good.” As Così concludes, the women are unmasked, humiliated and left to pick up what crumbs they can.

And what is left at the end? We may not even know who marries whom. It is here, in this strangely poised, open ending that we may find a way out of our dilemma, explain to ourselves the great pleasure we have experienced in Così fan tutte. After all, the men have been instigators in the betrayal and have found it as easy as the women to change partners. Does it, then, matter if the final couplings are the original ones or the alliances that spring up (and seem somewhat deeper) with “the Albanians”? Recent productions have made different choices about the marriage pairings, and some have been content to have all four young people laughingly part with no hard feelings, but also no commitments, no marriages, no idealistic pledges to feel tomorrow what we think we feel today.

That may be cynical or it may be liberating: Così fan all of us.

James Kincaid is Aerol Arnold Professor in the Department of English at the University of Southern California.


James Conlon: Lessons from the School for Lovers

Errare humanum est… (To err is human)

“Così fan tutte le belle…non c’e alcuna novita” (That is the way all the beautiful women do it, there is nothing new), exclaims Don Basilio, when he discovers the apparently unfaithful Susanna alone in her room with the young page Cherubino, in the first act of The Marriage of Figaro. 

It is pointless to ask who is the best composer, or painter or sculptor. There is no “top ten” in art. At best we can imagine an arc at the highest levels of accomplishment rather than the point of a pyramid. But were I forced to choose one composer above the rest, it would be Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart (1756-1791). There is none better. Beyond the perfection of his music, there is an intangible, mysterious cosmic dimension. He intuited laws of the universe and human nature. His operas portray humanity in all its foibles. He wrote with an understanding of the human heart that defies explanation as and transcends the age in which he lived.

Mozart’s collaboration with Lorenzo Da Ponte (born in Vittorio Veneto in 1749; died and buried in New York City in 1838) produced three Italian operas which are, in order of their composition: The Marriage of Figaro, 1786 (drawn from a French five-act play by Pierre-Augustin Caron de Beaumarchais); Don Giovanni, 1787 (based on multiple sources of the Don Juan myth); and finally Così fan tutte, 1790, whose sources are diverse and ambiguous. Together, these three operas bring to life the battle of the sexes more vividly than any comparable set of works.

Among its many virtues, the trilogy contains sharp satiric elements. Satire is “a sort of glass, wherein beholders do generally discover everybody’s face but their own…” wrote Jonathan Swift. I wonder if the same can be said for the creators of those satires. Does Mozart see himself in this imbroglio? Or is it possible to infer a moral standpoint from which Mozart structured his works? Can we say what were his beliefs, his politics or his value system? Can one deduce any of this from the many personalities in his operas? It is no more possible to do that anymore than it is to derive a personality profile of Shakespeare, the man, from his works. Knowing the person behind the art is interesting, but not relevant when we experience the work.

Although each of these Da Ponte operas is a universe unto itself, the three are interconnected. In Figaro and Giovanni, the men fare poorly, the women much better. That balance is redressed in Così. Subtitled La scuola degli amanti, “The School of (for) Lovers,” it is a rich (and serious) comedy which questions women’s fidelity, after the male bashing in the two previous operas.

What does the title—which defies easy translation—signify? Così (thus); fan, the poetic form for fanno (they do); tutte, the feminine plural (all women). What do they do? It. What is it? We shall see. (Please note that the last letter makes more than an iota of difference: it means ALL WOMEN. The masculine and collective plural is tutti, which would mean “all men” or “all men and women.”)

Do the women in Così look as bad as the men in Figaro and Don Giovanni? If one were to survey opera enthusiasts’ opinions of each character, there would be as many perspectives as respondents. Passionate and contentious opinions would emerge as each character—Figaro, Don Giovanni, Don Alfonso, the Countess, Donna Elvira, Zerlina, Fiordiligi and Dorabella—could serve as a Rorschach test for opera lovers everywhere.

In Figaro, the men show themselves to be self-centered. The Count is arrogant, petulant, jealous and manipulative, all in the service of maintaining le droit de seigneur (a nobleman’s presumed “right” to spend the wedding night with any bride in his dominion). Figaro, despite his celebrated shrewd mind, lags behind the curve of events. They both are out-smarted by their virtuous women. The young Cherubino, charming as he might be, is nothing more than a Count in training. Don Basilio, a corrupt intriguant and Don Bartolo, pompous and vengeful, fill out this masculine rogue’s gallery. The Countess is the most evolved figure. In her act of forgiveness, she elevates the comedy to the sublime. Susanna, representing the servant class, is a dynamo, loyal to both the Countess and to her fiancé Figaro, even when his behavior doesn’t merit respect.

Don Giovanni’s misdeeds are fathomless, epic. They require divine intervention, and he is suitably sent to eternal damnation. The story of this mythical character continues the critique of the male. The other men—Don Ottavio, Masetto and Leporello—are weak or victimized. None is heroic or a positive male image. The women, far more complex, are portrayed in a more favorable light. Donna Elvira is the most evolved, showing a capacity for love, sensuous and passionate, fiery and strong, and ultimately capable of forgiveness and devotion.

What will we learn in Così’s School for Lovers from its professor, Don Alfonso? We learn that women, too, are unfaithful. Or is there more to the story? By hatching an intricate plan to prove to the young men that their fiancées are imperfect, does Alfonso open a Pandora’s Box? Or does he merely lay bare a reality, allowing the four young lovers to marry with a levelheaded understanding of human nature? Are the women as culpable as Giovanni or the Count? Are the men wholly innocent victims of a scheming mentor and their women’s flightiness? Is Così a complete departure from the earlier operas in turning the tables on the women?

No. In deceiving their fiancées, the young men, masquerading as exotic visitors, are duplicitous. When they realize that they are in competition with each other to prove their seductive prowess, the boys redouble their efforts. Is Don Alfonso motivated by generosity or cynicism? Does he revel in destroying their illusions? Is he an avuncular therapist, positive and practical disciple of Swift’s aphorism: “Blessed is he who expects nothing… for he shall never be disappointed”?

In the epilogue, the moral is drawn: “Happy is the man who looks on the bright side of things, and lets himself be guided by reason. That which makes others weep, will make him laugh, and amidst the terrestrial whirlwinds, he will find a beautiful calm.”

In the end, don’t the women do what Mozart’s men have been doing all along? Why shouldn’t they, asks Despina, the sisters’ servant and Don Alfonso’s accomplice. Dorabella, the more lighthearted and sensuous sister, gives in to this erotic adventure more readily. But is she any less loveable than Cherubino? Fiordiligi, far more serious and passionate, resists longer and suffers before she surrenders to her new feelings. She has emotional depth, like the Countess and Donna Elvira. Is Despina, in encouraging the sisters to carpe diem, any different from Leporello, who helps his master’s conquests for the price of a daily meal? What about Barbarina, the gardener’s daughter in Figaro, who, at a tender age, has already learned to use her feminine charms to obtain what she wants from the Count? And Zerlina, who sets a speed record in falling for Don Giovanni on the morning of her wedding?

The list of could go on. Neither the men nor the women are completely innocent in any of these operas. Mozart eschews moral judgments and presents his characters for our delight and recognition, accepting them all as a part of the universe. Mozart and Da Ponte, like Swift’s looking glass, show the behavior of others, not for condemnation, but for instruction. And we will be wiser when we see ourselves in this marvelous and motley troupe of characters. Mozart, by peering into the microscope, holds up the mirror to us as well.

Mozart envelops each character in his sublime music with acceptance and affection. The rhythmic dynamism, the transcendent harmony and lyricism, the sensuous, evocative voices of the orchestra, the perfectly structured architecture of his music provide equilibrium encircling the characters and their tumultuous emotions. He takes them apart, but then puts them, us—and the universe—back together again.

His music lives in an idealized Enlightenment world, but is equally at home in the real world of human passions and imperfections. The battle of the sexes can never be won, nor can a lasting cease-fire be expected. Vive la différence! It has always been that way; there is nothing new, as Don Basilio told us.

At the end, Don Alfonso says to the boys, and all of us: “Everyone accuses women, but I excuse them, if a thousand times a day they change their love. Some call it a vice and others a habit, but to me it seems a necessity of the heart. The lover who, in the end, finds himself disappointed, should not condemn the error of others, but rather, his very own; Inasmuch as women young and old, beautiful and ugly……”

And, leaving his sentence incomplete and his thoughts to the imagination, he adds: “Repeat with me: Così fan tutte.” Or rather, implies Mozart: “Così fan tuttinon c’e alcuna novita!”

James Conlon, the conductor of Così fan tutti, is LA Opera’s Richard Seaver Music Director.