Un Ballo in Maschera: Giuseppe Verdi
Un Ballo in Maschera: Giuseppe Verdi
Un Ballo in
Maschera
CONDUCTOR
Opera in three acts
Fabio Luisi
Libretto by Antonio Somma
PRODUCTION
David Alden Saturday, December 8, 2012, 1:00–4:30 pm
SET DESIGNER
Paul Steinberg New Production
COSTUME DESIGNER
Brigitte Reiffenstuel
LIGHTING DESIGNER
Adam Silverman The production of Un Ballo in Maschera was
made possible by a generous gift from the
CHOREOGRAPHER
Maxine Braham Betsy and Edward Cohen / Areté Foundation
Fund for New Productions and Revivals, and
Daisy and Paul Soros
GENERAL MANAGER
Peter Gelb
MUSIC DIRECTOR
James Levine
PRINCIPAL CONDUCTOR
Fabio Luisi
2012–13 Season
Giuseppe Verdi’s
Un Ballo in
This performance
is being broadcast
Maschera
live over The
Toll Brothers–
Conductor
Metropolitan
Fabio Luisi
Opera International
Radio Network,
in order of vocal appearance
sponsored by
Toll Brothers, Count Ribbing (Samuel) Cristiano (Silvano)
America’s luxury Keith Miller Trevor Scheunemann
®
homebuilder , with
generous long-term Count Horn (Tom) Amelia’s Servant
support from David Crawford Scott Scully
The Annenberg
Foundation, The Oscar, the king’s page Amelia, Count
Neubauer Family Kathleen Kim Anckarström’s wife
Foundation, the Sondra Radvanovsky*
Gustavo III, King of
Vincent A. Stabile Sweden (Riccardo)
Endowment for Marcelo Álvarez
Broadcast Media,
and contributions Count Anckarström (Renato)
from listeners Dmitri Hvorostovsky
worldwide.
Judge
This performance is Mark Schowalter
also being broadcast
live on Metropolitan Madame Ulrica Arvidsson,
Opera Radio on a fortune-teller
SiriusXM channel 74. Stephanie Blythe *
Act I
scene 1 Reception room in the royal palace in Stockholm
scene 2 Madame Arvidsson’s den
Act II
An abandoned warehouse
Act III
scene 1 Count Anckarström’s house
Pause
scene 2 The king’s study
scene 3 The ballroom in the royal palace
Act I
Courtiers await an audience with King Gustavo III, including a group of
conspirators led by Counts Horn and Ribbing. The king enters. He notices
the name of Amelia, wife of his secretary and friend, Count Anckarström, on
the guest list for a masked ball, and thinks about his secret love for her. Left
alone with Gustavo, Anckarström warns the king of a conspiracy against him,
but Gustavo ignores the threat. The young page Oscar tells the king about the
fortuneteller Madame Ulrica Arvidsson, who has been accused of witchcraft and
is to be banished. Deciding to see for himself, the king arranges for his court to
pay her an incognito visit.
In a building by the port, Madame Arvidsson invokes prophetic spirits and tells
the sailor Cristiano that he will soon become wealthy and receive a promotion.
The king, who has arrived in disguise, slips money and papers into Cristiano’s
pockets. When the sailor discovers his good fortune, everybody praises
Madame Arvidsson’s abilities. Gustavo hides as she sends her visitors away
to admit Amelia, who is tormented by her love for the king and asks for help.
Madame Arvidsson tells her that she must gather a magic herb after dark. When
Amelia leaves, Gustavo decides to follow her that night. Oscar and members of
the court enter, and the king asks Madame Arvidsson to read his palm. She tells
him that he will die by the hand of a friend. Gustavo laughs at the prophecy and
demands to know the name of the assassin. Madame Arvidsson replies that it will
Visit metopera.org 39
Synopsis CONTINUED
be the first person that shakes his hand. When Anckarström rushes in Gustavo
clasps his hand saying that the oracle has been disproved since Anckarström
is his most loyal friend. Recognizing their king, the crowd cheers him as the
conspirators grumble their discontent.
Act II
That night, Amelia, who has followed Madame Arvidsson’s advice to find the
herb, expresses her hope that she will be freed of her love for the king. When
Gustavo appears, she asks him to leave, but ultimately they admit their love for
each other. Amelia hides her face when Anckarström suddenly appears, warning
the king that assassins are nearby. Gustavo makes Anckarström promise to
escort the woman back to the city without lifting her veil, then escapes. Finding
Anckarström instead of their intended victim, the conspirators make ironic
remarks about his veiled companion. When Amelia realizes that her husband
will fight rather than break his promise to Gustavo, she drops her veil to save him.
The conspirators are amused and make fun of Anckarström for his embarrassing
situation. Anckarström, shocked by the king’s betrayal and his wife’s seeming
infidelity, asks Horn and Ribbing to come to his house the next morning.
Act III
In his apartment, Anckarström threatens to kill Amelia. She asks to see their
young son before she dies. After she has left, Anckarström declares that is it the
king he should seek vengeance on, not Amelia. Horn and Ribbing arrive, and
Anckarström tells them that he will join the conspirators. The men decide to
draw lots to determine who will kill the king, and Anckarström forces his wife to
choose from the slips of paper. When his own name comes up he is overjoyed.
Oscar enters, bringing an invitation to the masked ball. As the assassins welcome
this chance to execute their plan, Amelia decides to warn the king.
Gustavo, alone in his study, resolves to renounce his love and to send Amelia
and Anckarström to Finland. Oscar brings an anonymous letter warning him
of the murder plot, but the king refuses to be intimidated and leaves for the
masquerade. In the ballroom, Anckarström tries to learn from Oscar what
costume the king is wearing. The page answers evasively but finally reveals
Gustavo’s disguise. Amelia and the king meet, and she repeats her warning.
Refusing to leave, he declares his love one more time and tells her that he is
sending her away with her husband. As the lovers say goodbye, Anckarström
stabs the king. The dying Gustavo forgives his murderer and admits that he
loved Amelia but assures Anckarström that his wife is innocent. The crowd
praises the king’s goodness and generosity.
40 Visit metopera.org
THE PERFECT
HOLIDAY GIFT FOR
OPERA LOVERS
Giuseppe Verdi
Un Ballo in Maschera
Premiere: Teatro Apollo, Rome, 1859
Un Ballo in Maschera, one of Verdi’s mature operas written between the “trilogy”
of Rigoletto, La Traviata, and Il Trovatore and his final works, is a superb drama
about the fatal intersection of love and politics. The central story element is plain
and direct. A king is in love with his best friend’s wife. The husband suspects that
his wife has been unfaithful and he decides to kill the king at a masked ball. The
story came from history—Sweden’s King Gustav III met his death at the hands
of a political enemy during a masked ball at the Stockholm Opera House in
1792. French dramatist Eugène Scribe (who also provided the libretto to Verdi’s
Les Vêpres Siciliennes) had written the first operatic version of this historical
event for composer François Auber, whose work, Gustave III, had been given
in Paris in 1833. Scribe’s version added the twist of a love triangle, and despite
his poetic license with the facts, a number of curious details from the historical
story made their way into the libretto: a medium named Ulrica Arvidsson (or
Arfvidsson) warned the king about an assassination; he received an anonymous
note alerting him of a plot on his life; and the conspirators identified the king by
a pink ribbon on the cape of his costume.
The Creators
Giuseppe Verdi (1813–1901) created 28 operas in a remarkable career spanning
six decades in the theater. His role in Italy’s cultural and political development
has made him an icon in his native country. Antonio Somma (1809–1864) was a
lawyer, playwright, and theater manager. Verdi did not write another opera with
him, although he kept Somma busy working on a libretto based on King Lear, a
project that was never completed.
The Setting
This opera suffered from the interference of censors of the Kingdom of Naples,
who objected to the depiction of a royal assassination on the stage. Somma
offered a revised libretto, moving the action to colonial Boston. When the censors
demanded still more changes, Verdi abandoned his contract with the theater
and took the piece to Rome (just ahead of the police and a lawsuit), where he
managed to have the opera produced with Somma’s revisions. The Boston setting,
despite its odd incongruities, became the opera’s standard version well into the
second half of the 20th century. In recent years, the original Swedish setting has
often been restored, as in the previous and the current Met production.
The Music
The score of Ballo is remarkable for its economy and beautiful melodic
expression. In addition to supporting the singers, the orchestra adds its own
commentary: the repeating chords in the ballroom scene that ends the opera are
a masterpiece of tension mounting beneath an elegant veneer. All of the leading
roles have solos that are among Verdi’s best. Among them are the soprano’s
haunting “Morrò, ma prima in grazia” in the first scene of Act III, followed by
the great baritone aria “Eri tu.” The tenor has several spotlight solos, ranging in
tone from the deliberately showy “Dì tu, se fedele” in Act I to the introspection
of the extended study scene in Act III. This opera also features two voice types
infrequently used by Verdi, a contralto for the fortuneteller Madame Arvidsson
and a coloratura soprano as the page Oscar (in what is also unusual for Verdi, a
trouser role). Some of the most remarkable passages of the score, however, are
given to multiple voices: the love duet in Act II is perhaps Verdi’s most overtly
passionate; the Act I ensemble, “E scherzo od è follia,” is built on contrasting
layers of eeriness, fear, and nonchalance. The unforgettable, subdued laughing
chorus at the end of Act II drips with sneering disdain. Act III’s ingenious opening
scene builds from a solo narrative to a quintet in which the various emotions
of the protagonists—guilt, revenge, and giddy anticipation of the upcoming
masked ball—merge into a single extraordinary stream of music.
O
ne of Giuseppe Verdi’s favorite projects during the 1850s—and indeed
through most of the rest of his life—was an operatic adaptation
of Shakespeare’s King Lear. It was an idea the composer had long
cherished, but—pragmatic man that he was, and wise in the ways of the Italian
theater—he knew it would not be an easy opera to cast, and he was prepared
to wait for the unusual, ideal occasion. Perhaps not surprisingly, it never came.
In the meantime, in the spring of 1855, Verdi wrote to Antonio Somma, the
lawyer–playwright who had been working on the Lear libretto, and asked him
for suggestions for a less demanding and ambitious project: “Could you find
another story for me, which you would then write at your leisure? A story that
is beautiful, original, interesting, with beautiful situations, and impassioned:
passions above all!”
Somma first suggested Matthew Lewis’s then-famous novel The Monk,
but Verdi rejected it: “I want a story of feelings, not a spectacle.” And before
the librettist could find anything suitable, Verdi himself settled on a story: the
assassination of the Swedish king Gustav III. Beautiful, interesting, impassioned,
yes; but hardly original. Eugène Scribe had written the first operatic version of
the historical event for François Auber, whose work, Gustave III, had been given
in Paris in 1833. Ten years later the same story had served Saverio Mercadante for
Il Reggente, the libretto considerably refashioned by the Neapolitan Salvatore
Cammarano, Verdi’s respected collaborator for Luisa Miller and Il Trovatore.
Somma obediently set to work, though he asked one favor of Verdi: “If you
don’t mind, I would like to remain anonymous…. Thus I will write with greater
freedom.” The poet at that time wanted to keep out of the public eye; a few
years before, in 1848–49, he had participated actively in the rebellion against
the Austrians in Venice, and he was under police surveillance. Naturally, he
wanted to avoid putting his name on a libretto involving the killing of a monarch.
When he learned that Verdi was going to compose the opera for Naples,
Somma may well have foreseen that the subject would encounter difficulties
with the stern censors of the Bourbon regime there. As, in fact, it did. In October
of 1857, when work had been in progress for some weeks, Verdi sent an outline
of the libretto to Vincenzo Torelli, the San Carlo secretary, for submission to the
authorities. Early in November the subject was firmly rejected. Verdi had come
up against censorship almost from the outset of his career, and some of his most
enduring works—among them Nabucco, Rigoletto, and La Traviata—had come
into being only after bouts, even pitched battles, with the political authorities.
At first Verdi did not take the rejection seriously. He imagined a few
concessions on his part would resolve the problem, and he wrote to Torelli: “It
won’t be difficult to transfer the setting elsewhere and change the names…. Too
bad! To have to renounce the elegance of a court like that of Gustave III… Poor
poets and poor composers!”
So he began by altering the opera’s title, calling it La Vendetta in Domino
(or, “Revenge in [a Domino] Disguise”). This, however, was not enough. In
fact—as the San Carlo management carefully refrained from telling Verdi—the
authorities were opposed to the subject in any form. Finally, as a special favor
to the composer, they sent him a list of required, indispensable changes. Verdi
responded in an angry letter to Somma: “I’m in a sea of troubles!” He went on
to list the demands the authorities had made if the opera was to be saved at all:
the king had to be a private gentleman, not a sovereign of any kind; the wife
of Count Anckarström was to become his sister; there would be no ball; there
would be no drawing of lots for the privilege of killing the protagonist; and there
would be no murder on stage.
It’s hard to imagine what the opera we know as Un Ballo in Maschera might
have been if Verdi had been made of less stern stuff. But worse was to come.
When Verdi rejected these demands, the Neapolitans found a poet of their own,
who confected a new libretto to fit Verdi’s music. Titled Adelia degli Adimari, it
was a cumbersome tale of Guelphs and Ghibellines, in which Oscar was not a
page but a warrior, and Gustavo disguised himself not as a fisherman but as a
hunter, making his barcarole completely incongruous.
In the end, Verdi—who had arrived in Naples as his contract stipulated—was
threatened with jail. He managed to get out of the city, with his score in his
suitcase, only by promising to come back the following year. Actually, it was not
until 1872 that he returned to the city.
Instead, the next season, he was in Rome, where the censors were a bit more
accommodating: the papal authorities worried less about regicide and more
about other immoralities. After further discussions and revisions, the opera was
allowed, but as Verdi wrote the taxed Somma, “The locale should be moved
outside of Europe. What would you say to North America at the time of the
English domination?”
And so Gustavo became Riccardo, and the brilliant royal court was moved
from Stockholm to Boston. In all this, Verdi was able to save what most mattered
to him: the sparkling atmosphere around the fun-loving, romantic ruler,
including the pert page; the undercurrent of superstition and fatalism that acts
as contrast to the superficial frivolity; the baritone’s intense private drama as
friendship turns to hate and jealousy to murderous vengeance. And, central to
all, the thwarted love, culminating in the tormented duet, where expressions of
total devotion are punctuated by urgent pleas for renunciation, all in a context
of guilt and mortal fear. (The current Met production restores both the original
setting and the historical names.)
The late Massimo Mila, one of Italy’s most acute and original music critics,
in his book on the composer refers to Un Ballo in Maschera as Verdi’s great
love poem and actually mentions it in the same breath with Wagner’s Tristan.
Certainly, to the modern unprejudiced listener, the two operas are on the same
plane of greatness; and there is no doubt that both are focused on love. But
the intense obsessiveness of the Wagnerian pair—trapped, enclosed in their
passion—is in interesting contrast with the love of Gustavo and Amelia, which
Ins6
is only rarely seen divorced from its social context. This is a love between
responsible people. And it prompted one of Verdi’s richest and most varied
scores. The surge of passion begins to swell with Gustavo’s first aria (an aside,
it must be remembered; a confidence to the audience, as the ruler ignores his
court). After the conflict of the duet, there are two inner conflicts of the two
lovers, the paired renunciations. And for every nuance of emotion the composer
finds one of his musical hues, those tinte that were his essential ingredients.
The bigger musical picture sets chorus against principals, basso conspiracy
against the coloratura loyalty of the page. The minor characters—the faithful
sailor, the half-crazed but honest and concerned soothsayer—are secondary
only in the length of their music, not in their significance. And the real mariner,
Christiano, makes another contrast with the feigned seaman of Gustavo himself.
Somma, whose successfully performed plays demonstrate a real theatrical
gift, in this assignment was little more than the versifier of the composer’s ideas,
like Piave before and after him and like most Verdi librettists until Boito. But
Somma had at least one idea of his own. In a letter written fairly early in their
collaboration, he suggested to Verdi that the soprano’s part be enhanced. She
should have a whole scene to herself, he wrote: “I would shift [after the opening
scene] to her boudoir. Thus the audience would make her acquaintance there,
before the witch’s kitchen. This boudoir, if you like, has…at the back a loggia
open over a vast horizon…. Amelia, seated on the loggia, is playing her harp
and singing a song that refers generically to the desires of a loving heart.”
The librettist had a more conventional mind than Verdi, who sensibly
rejected this pedestrian idea; and so our introduction to Amelia happens
as the composer envisioned it: rapid, essential. Amelia—and the opera—
come straight to the point. Still, there is nothing in the whole opera that is
not essential. Verdi is not single-minded. The focal conflict is given a three-
dimensional context: power inspires Anckarström’s loyal devotion as subject as
well as friend. But it also inspires envy and hatred. And the sweet, silvery line of
Oscar’s adolescent affection is balanced by the dark, bass interjections of the
conspirators. There is also laughter in the opera: the hero’s incredulous chuckles
at the dire prophecies of the soothsayer, and the conspirators’ cruel hilarity at
the predicament of Anckarström and Amelia. In his correspondence with his
librettists, Verdi frequently asked them to introduce some humor—black, bitter
humor—into the starkest, most relentless scenes.
In Ballo the situations the characters find themselves in can shift abruptly; and
the characters themselves can change. This is an opera of transformations, and
perhaps, after all the various versions of the title, the final one is the best, for the
opera is a dance of death. The players twice in the course of the story are required
to don fancy disguises. They are all used to masks, and when they put them aside,
or when a veil falls and reveals a truth, reality proves to be unbearable.
—William Weaver
Fabio Luisi
conductor (genoa , italy)
this season Un Ballo in Maschera, Les Troyens, Aida, and Wagner’s Ring cycle at the Met;
Don Carlo at La Scala; Jenůfa, Tosca, La Bohème, Rigoletto, Der Rosenkavalier, and Bellini’s
La Straniera at the Zurich Opera; and concerts with the MET Orchestra at Carnegie Hall,
the Vienna Symphony, and Philharmonia Zürich.
met appearances Don Giovanni, Manon, La Traviata, Le Nozze di Figaro, Elektra, Hansel
and Gretel, Tosca, Lulu, Simon Boccanegra, Die Ägyptische Helena, Turandot, Ariadne auf
Naxos, Rigoletto, Don Carlo (debut, 2005), and the Ring cycle.
career highlights He is principal conductor of the Met, chief conductor of the Vienna
Symphony, and general music director of the Zurich Opera. He made his La Scala debut
last season with Manon, his Salzburg Festival debut in 2003 leading Strauss’s Die Liebe der
Danae (returning the following season for Die Ägyptische Helena), and his American debut
with the Lyric Opera of Chicago leading Rigoletto. He also appears regularly with the Vienna
State Opera, Munich’s Bavarian State Opera, and Berlin’s Deutsche Oper and Staatsoper.
David Alden
director (new york , new york )
this season Un Ballo in Maschera at the Met, Die Meistersinger von Nürnberg for the
Netherlands Opera, Peter Grimes for the Deutsche Oper Berlin, and Lucia di Lammermoor
for the Canadian Opera Company.
met production Fidelio (debut as stage director, 1980).
career highlights Recent engagements include La Finta Giardiniera at Vienna’s Theater
an der Wien, Kát’a Kabanová in Lisbon, Luisa Miller in Lyon, Pelléas et Mélisande in St.
Louis, Chabrier’s L’Étoile in Frankfurt, Handel’s Deidamia for the Netherlands Opera, Billy
Budd for English National Opera, Maometto II in Santa Fe, Alcina in Bordeaux, and Lucia
di Lammermoor for Washington National Opera. He won the South Bank Show Award
for Peter Grimes and the Olivier Award for Jenůfa at English National Opera (the latter a
production that was shared with Houston Grand Opera and Washington National Opera)
and received the Bavarian Theatre Prize for Individual Artistic Achievement, honoring his
long-time relationship with Munich’s Bavarian State Opera.
Visit metopera.org 43
The Cast and Creative Team CONTINUED
Paul Steinberg
set designer (new york , new york )
Brigitte Reiffenstuel
costume designer (munich, germany)
this season Un Ballo in Maschera, Giulio Cesare, and Il Trovatore at the Met.
met production Il Trovatore (debut, 2009).
career highlights She has designed costumes for Covent Garden that include Falstaff
(also for La Scala), Adriana Lecouvreur (also for Barcelona, Vienna, and the Paris Opera),
Faust (also in Lille, Monte Carlo, Trieste, and Valencia) and Elektra; for English National
Opera, that include Lucrezia Borgia, Peter Grimes (also Oviedo, De Vlaamse Opera, and
Deutsche Oper Berlin), Tosca, La Damnation de Faust, Lucia di Lammermoor (also for
Göteborg Opera, Washington National Opera, and Canadian Opera) and Boris Godunov;
for Glyndebourne Festival Opera, including Giulio Cesare (also in Chicago and Lille); and
for Opera North, including Rigoletto, Macbeth (also New Zealand Opera), and Il Trovatore
(also Opera Ireland). Additional work includes Don Giovanni (La Scala), Les Pêcheurs de
Perles, and Madama Butterfly (Santa Fe), Il Trovatore (San Francisco, Chicago), Don Carlo
(Frankfurt), Billy Budd and The Makropulos Case (Chicago), Lulu (Munich), Semele (Paris’s
Théâtre des Champs-Elysées), and Macbeth (Houston, Chicago). Future productions
include a Verdi triple bill in Hamburg and The Queen of Spades in Zurich.
44
Adam Silverman
lighting designer (chicago, illinois)
Maxine Braham
choreographer (newcastle, england)
Visit metopera.org 45
The Cast and Creative Team CONTINUED
Stephanie Blythe
mezzo - soprano (mongaup valley, new york )
Kathleen Kim
soprano (seoul , korea )
this season Oscar in Un Ballo in Maschera at the Met, Chiang Ch’ing in a concert
performance of John Adams’s Nixon in China for her debut with the BBC Symphony
Orchestra, and Olympia in Les Contes d’Hoffmann at Munich’s Bavarian State Opera and
Barcelona’s Liceu.
met appearances Chiang Ch’ing, Olympia, Zerbinetta in Ariadne auf Naxos, Papagena in
Die Zauberflöte, and Barbarina in Le Nozze di Figaro (debut, 2007).
career highlights She has recently appeared as the Queen of the Night in Die Zauberflöte
for her debut with Munich’s Bavarian State Opera, Oscar with the Lyric Opera of Chicago,
Melissa in Handel’s Amadigi di Gaula with Central City Opera, and Poppea in Agrippina
with Boston Lyric Opera. She has also sung the title role of Lucia di Lammermoor at
Sarasota Opera, the Fairy in Massenet’s Cendrillon with Opéra de Lille, and Fire, Princess,
and the Nightingale in Ravel’s L’Enfant et les Sortilèges at the Glyndebourne Festival.
46
Sondra Radvanovsky
soprano (berw yn, illinois)
this season Amelia in Un Ballo in Maschera at the Met and the Vienna State Opera, Aida in
Munich, Tosca in Los Angeles, and her role debut as Maria Stuarda in Bilbao.
met appearances She has sung more than 125 performances, including Tosca, Aida, Luisa
Miller, Leonora in Il Trovatore, Lina in Stiffelio, Elvira in Ernani, Rosalinde in Die Fledermaus,
Roxane in Alfano’s Cyrano de Bergerac, Donna Anna in Don Giovanni, Musetta in La
Bohème, Antonia in Les Contes d’Hoffmann, Micaëla in Carmen, and Countess Ceprano
in Rigoletto (debut, 1996).
career highlights The title role of Suor Angelica in Los Angeles, Donizetti’s Lucrezia Borgia
in Washington, Roxane, Lina, and Leonora at Covent Garden, Hélène in Les Vêpres
Siciliennes and Elisabeth in Don Carlo with the Paris Opera, Hélène and Manon Lescaut
at the Vienna State Opera, Roxane at La Scala, and Aida, Amelia, Elvira, Leonora, and the
title role of Floyd’s in Chicago. She is a graduate of the Met’s Lindemann Young Artist
Development Program.
Marcelo Álvarez
tenor (córdoba , argentina )
this season King Gustavo in Un Ballo in Maschera at the Met and La Scala, Andrea Chénier
in Turin, Enzo in La Gioconda at the Paris Opera, and the Verdi Requiem in Naples.
met appearances Cavaradossi in Tosca, Radamès in Aida, Manrico in Il Trovatore, Alfredo
in La Traviata (debut, 1998), the Duke in Rigoletto, Edgardo in Lucia di Lammermoor,
Rodolfo in La Bohème, des Grieux in Manon, the Italian Singer in Der Rosenkavalier, and
Don José in Carmen.
career highlights Since his European Debut in 1995 as Elvino in La Sonnambula at
Venice’s La Fenice, he has sung in virtually all the world’s leading theaters, first in lyric
roles including the Duke, Alfredo, Edgardo, Faust, Romeo, and Hoffmann, as well as the
title role of Werther (which he has sung in London, Vienna, and Munich), then gradually
transitioning into lirico spinto repertoire. Recent engagements include Cavaradossi,
Rodolfo in Luisa Miller, and the Italian Singer at La Scala, Don Alvaro in La Forza del
Destino and Andrea Chénier at the Paris Opera, Radamès at Covent Garden, Maurizio
in Adriana Lecouvreur and Cavaradossi in Turin, Cavaradossi and King Gustavo at the
Deutsche Oper Berlin, and Manrico in Parma, Zurich, and the Arena di Verona.
Visit metopera.org 47
The Cast and Creative Team CONTINUED
Dmitri Hvorostovsky
baritone (krasnoyarsk , russia )
this season Anckarström in Un Ballo in Maschera and Rodrigo in Don Carlo at the Met, the
title role of Eugene Onegin with the Vienna State Opera, a recital at Carnegie Hall, and
concerts and recitals throughout Europe and in Russia.
met appearances Don Carlo in Ernani, Germont in La Traviata, Simon Boccanegra, Count
di Luna in Il Trovatore, Yeletsky in The Queen of Spades (debut, 1995), Valentin in
Faust, Belcore in L’Elisir d’Amore, Prince Andrei in War and Peace, Don Giovanni, and
Eugene Onegin.
career highlights He appears regularly at major opera houses throughout the world,
including Covent Garden, Munich’s Bavarian State Opera, La Scala, Vienna State Opera,
Buenos Aires’s Teatro Colón, Lyric Opera of Chicago, and the Mariinsky Theatre. Among
his most notable roles are Eugene Onegin, Don Giovanni, Rodrigo, Germont, Rigoletto,
Anckarström, and Francesco in I Masnadieri. He has also been heard in concert with the
New York Philharmonic, San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, and Rotterdam Philharmonic,
among many others.
48 Visit metopera.org
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Ben Finane, Editor-in-Chief
of Listen: Life with Classical Music,
shares excerpts from Listen magazine’s
interviews with distinguished artists.
Visit ListenMusicMag.com.
BF: Are there 20th-century works that you believe will remain in the repertoire and
others that will not stick around?
PB: I must say that when I was young and made my choices as to what I considered important
music of the 20th century, I would make the same choices now. I ask myself, “If this composer
hadn’t existed, would the musical language be the same?’ … Other composers, maybe they
were composing some interesting things, but not so influential in the definition of the musical
language of the 20th century. And for me, that’s the criterion, the litmus test. But that’s my
test. I know that I disagree with a lot of people on Shostakovich, whom I don’t find terribly
important. I don’t find him more important than Hindemith or Holliger, where you take the
heritage of the Symphony but you don’t bring anything which changes. And I find that
terribly important, the language as an evolution: you are part of this evolution or not. For
me that’s really the thing that’s yes or no. P
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