Search - Bellini - Norma on DVD

Norma-----------NOT!

P. Byrne | 01/23/2007

(1 out of 5 stars)

"Avoid this ridiculous "Concept" Norma at all costs, unless you want to plunk down nearly $40.00 for what is the most tired, trite staging of this magnificent opera I have ever seen. Don't the Euro-Trash directors have any new ideas? More of the same old 1950 period costumes with Norma making an entrance dressed like Norma Desmond with a turban and sunglasses, signing autographs for the Druid chorus.The stage business is completely ludicrous, and reduces the magnificent music to a meaningless side show.The cast all have beautiful voices and certainly deserve a better staging than this psuedo-arty nightmare..



Patrick C. Byrne"

Warning : This is NOT Bellini's Norma

Chaconnesque | Singapore, Singapore Singapore | 12/20/2006

(1 out of 5 stars)

"I wish Mr Rishoi would post his evaluation of this Norma here. I believe he said it was the worst production of Norma he had ever watched. I agree totally.

I almost went to Amsterdam to watch this production. I'm glad I did not. Instead of Bellini's great tragedy of sacrifice, forgiveness and reconciliation, we are treated to a story about two sopranos fighting for a tenor, and who happened to be singing Norma. So the story of Norma becomes relegated to become the backdrop for the real drama on-stage.

I would not pay to watch an opera about 3 singers who happened to sing in an opera which roughly reflected their 'real-life' situations. Neither would I have paid for this DVD.

I found the whole production so distracting that I could not listen to the music except by closing my eyes. But then Papian et al are nowhere near the likes of Callas, Sutherland, Caballe or even Scotto as Norma to merit such a listening.

I will not want to watch it again.

Stick to your Caballe DVD."

Re-interprets Bellini's opera: an insulting stinker of a con

Niel Rishoi | Ann Arbor, MI USA | 11/07/2006

(1 out of 5 stars)

"Oh, you're gonna love this one. Let's see here if I can do

justice to this spellbinding mess, and sort out the story

behind the story behind the story, the disaster behind the

disaster within another disaster.



We learn from the opening shots that this production is

going to endeavor to make Bellini's masterpiece "more

interesting." To improve upon it. During the overture, we

see a Pavarotti-type tenor dressed in a faintly 1940s

gangsterish suit come out onto a stage. The stage has black

shiny-mirror-enameled floors, with a huge fallen tree

across it. The tenor positions himself in front of a

dressing-room makeup table with lighted mirror, sets his

crested helmet down, and sits in front of the table. He

pulls out from his bag a Madonna figurine (not the pop

star), kisses it, sets it on the table. He picks up a

magazine, a "Il Mondo Dell Opera," with himself on the

cover, and looks delghtedly through it. He decides to have

some coffee and spills it all over the table, whereby he

cleans it up. A severe-dressed stage assistant smilingly

brings out his gilded six-pack abs breast/torso plate,

along with a dozen roses; they kissy-kissy. He generously

shows her his magazine. She climbs onto his lap and they

start making out. A male figure - director? - comes in,

as she makes her exit. They pantomime chortle to each other

- ooh, that's one hot chick they seem to be saying. The

assistant gives the tenor a newspaper - Il Giornale - the

tenor looks at it anxiously, and slams the paper back,

scratches his forehead anxiously. Another hatted, spiffily

dressed gentlemen - the Oroveso - comes in, sets HIS stuff

down on another dressing table, in front of the tree. The

three commiserate over the newspaper. The Oroveso takes his

score out, sets it on the the fallen tree trunk, and starts

studying it. Overture ends.



The chorus, in their civilian clothes come out, and begin

milling around behind the tree. The Pollione takes his

roses and sets them over at yet another dressing table.



The Oroveso, in full 1940s civilian clothes and overcoat,

lifts his leg up, sets his foot on the fallen tree, places

his score on his knee, and begins singing "Ite sul colle."

Nice, solid tone. The chorus, dressed in dapper civilian

clothes, many with roses in their hands, places them around

the center dressing table. Pollione, as the chorus exits,

reads the cards on the roses, anxious as to who they're

from. The Flavio comes out, in full 1950s Gladiator Gear,

and he and Pollione proceed with their scene. The tenor

sings "Meco all'tar di Venere" with a bright, loud, bugly

tone. The high C kicks in after a slight hiccup. Lots of

extraneous stage business. Just before his cabaletta, the

chorus comes out, and Pollione begins changing into his

costume. One verse of the caba-clatter-etta. Choked high

C.



For Norma's entrance. The chorus, standing behind the tree.

They start clapping, applauding. Flashbulbs go off. A

prima donna figure, complete with shiny silver raincoat,

head-crown-turban, Lana Turner styled sunglasses, fur

stole, comes in, delighted at the reception. Starts signing

autographs. Walks grandly over to her dressing table,

unloads her gear, gets undressed, assistant helps her with

a red Classical Norma gown. Admires her roses.



"Rehearsal" gets under way, with "Sediziose voci." During

Oroveso's interlude, she checks out the dressing table in

which Pollione has placed his red roses (there is a point

here, stay with me). Norma has a pleasing timbre, but her

tremulous singing does not bode well. "Casta diva" is

adequate, no more. The line is loose, not ideally bound,

the top pushed. No real mezza-voce. One verse of the

cabaletta, clumsily sung, the coda trimmed. Converts words

into "ah" for the florid passages. Meantime, a younger

woman has come in, looks imperiously over at the Norma,

sits at the the dressing table with the Pollione-laden red

roses.



The younger woman turns out to be the Adalgisa. An

attractive, raven haired Greek woman. In an ingenue-type

dress. Takes costume out of suitcase, places it in front of

her. Steps cautiously to the front of the stage, and

pantomimes being a prima donna acknowledging applause.

Adalgisa has a pleasing, creamy tone, and sings her sortita

nicely. She and Pollione get into their duet, taking place

in the "dressing room."



It's obvious by now, that this staging is mixing both the

backstage element with the opera pushed to the background:

a real life triangle with the opera's. The Pollione is now

infatuated with the Adalgisa, spurning the aging prima

donna Norma. Only the Adalgisa is not a sweet young thing.

Her backstage persona is scheming, calculating, while she

sings the vestal virgin's lines.



The Buster Brown-attired Clotilde come up from a trap in

the floor with Norma's 2 Dutch children. They play around

her dressing table. It commences with Norma in her motherly

dilemma. Norma and Adalgisa proceed with their duet, but we

see Adalgisa looking contemptuously at Norma - oooh she's

got an agenda.



Pollione comes onto the scene, and of course the "double"

meaning of the trio is supposed to be manifest. Norma is

in dire straits vocally in "O non tremare," the C's pushed

out painfully. Her high D capping the act achieves at least

3 different pitches.

Norma, Pollione and Adalgisa go back to their dressing

tables, miffed.



For act two, same stage. Adalgisa at her dressing table.

Kids asleep on the floor. Norma comes out in this white and

red Quo Vadis gown adorned with gold, and a big red fright

wig. Dutch kids see mamma brandishing a knife (none too

convincingly), run over to nanny Clotilde, and are sent

back under the stage. Norma and Adalgisa go through their

paces in the duet - higher key, both strained, tremulous

on top, not ideal.



Oroveso's Norma-Getting-Ready-For-Her-Final-Scene interlude

is fully staged in costume: combination Viking, Fractured

Fairy Tales. Several of the chorus, including Oroveso has

little mistletoe wings on their heads.



When Norma finds out of Pollione's existence in the

temple/opera house from Nanny Clotilde, she goes over to

his dressing table, grabs the chair and starts smashing the

mirror with the leg of the chair. She's a bit angry. Each

hit is sorta kinda timed with the gong, but it's off.

Having Expressed Anger, Norma tosses chair aside.

"Sterminio" comes out as "Her minio." A Freudian slip??



Pollione comes back out -in civilian clothing. Yes, amongst

the fully costumed cast. He looks aghast at Norma's knife

brandishing.



Curtain closes. The duet commences in front of the red

stage curtain. Pollione's smashed-mirror dressing table

off the left. Norma leans on it, folds her arms

petulantly, and mildly goes into `In mia man." They have a

little spat. "Agalgisa fia punita" disappears, not at all

audible. At the end, we get the two freeze-framed in

place, Norma pointing her knife at Pollione. The director

told her to Do It That Way.



Confession goes off without a hitch. Ditto without a shiver

of emotion. Red wig dramatically removed. Attendants strip

her of her gold adornment, baubles.



As Norma sings "Qual cor tradisti," Pollione gradually puts

back on the rest of his civilian clothes. So does Norma.

Silver raincoat. Fur stole. Hat box carried thoughtfully by

Pollione. (Or is it a makeup case? I was left wondering

for the rest of the opera.)



All of a sudden Norma realizes she has two Dutch kiddies to

think about. Begs Papa to take care of them. Norma, smiling

beamingly at Oroveso, sits down in relief. Papa comforts

her further, to more smiles.



Norma picks up her stole, wraps it around her, and she and

Pollione begin to leave the company. Then. Oh. What's

this!!?? It's Adalgisa!! Adalgisa ritorna! Vincitor!! She

is wearing Norma's costume with red wig! She has stolen

Norma's Mistletoe-Cutter and is NOW THE NEW younger

NORMA!!!!! Old Norma, smiling unconcernedly, caterwauls

"addio" along with Pollione, and sweeps out as grandly as

she entered. Oh wait! Pollione is torn. He does not know

whether to follow Old Norma to Desmond Country or stay and

share victory with Young Norma. Being as Young always

wins, he drops Norma's hat box (I'm still trying to figure

out if that's a hatbox or a makeup case well anyway), he

inches longingly toward Adalgisa, I mean The New Norma, as

the curtain drops to a happy ending!



Bellini's devastating ending has been totally aborted here.



See the parallel? All About Adalgisa.



But it gets even better.



Along with this expensive two-DVD set comes an "Extras"

feature. It should be called Extra Extra Special feature,

because it is every bit as mesmerizing as the allegedly brilliant

staging.



The feature is about the making of this production. Julian

Reynolds talks about how the prima donna made it possible

to do this Norma. We see the prima donna complaining to the

costume designer that the gold-leafed Druid tiara is too

thin and doesn't fit. But oh, she tells him, it's a

beautiful, beautiful thing. Then she gives it to the

costume designer, and jokes to him, "Can you put some voice

in that as well?" And she cracks up, overjoyed at her

scintillation.



The prima donna, imperious, complains about the paint on a

dressing room wall. She is anxious. Allergic, she says.

Interviewer asks her: Do you worry a lot about your voice?

Answer" We are paranoiac, yeah." Nods vigorously. "We...( I

mean)I wake up in the morning and I'm frightened to say

"good morning", because I'm frightened...We are very fragile,

very vulnerable." She says with an obviously forced laugh.

She is trying to laugh off her anxiety, but is not

succeeding. And tries to explain what can affect the

voice. She pulls up every reason possible. We see her in

rehearsal, checking everything to make sure it won't

interfere with her voice. She is reassured that the smoke

won't affect her. It does...oor something else.



Apparently, it WAS the paint or the smoke, created from

ice. This is the production where Nelly Miricioiu was

supposedly ailing with a throat infection, and Lucia

Aliberti sang for her in the wings for the premiere.

Hasmik Papian came in for the rest of the run, as Aliberti

wasn't available for further performances. Miricioiu takes

up most of this documentary. We see her rehearsing "Casta

diva," and not doing very well with it. Nothing of an

illness seems wrong with her during the making of this or

through the rehearsals. It is obvious that her voice is no

longer up to doing this role: all her protestations about

the "fragility" of herself seem to be self-validations, in

attempt to reassure herself that it's something else, not

her, that's caused her vocal deterioration.



We then see the last part of this documentary with the

younger Papian taking over. Papian comes across as

thoughtful, modest, a bit reticent, but appealing.



As in the opera, the younger woman has come in to take the

veteran's place. Unfortunately this documentary is not at

all flattering to Miricioiu. She comes across neurotic,

paranoid, and posturing. And a little pathetic. You see her

vainly trying to hide her anxieties about what she knows is

the truth. I think she came into this production knowing

she was not up to the role, but was going to make a valiant

attempt anyway. And canceled because by opening night,

knew it wouldn't work.



Callas fans be warned: both the tenor and conductor give

their opinions on her. Of the "she was great but..." vein.

They averred that Callas, when she declined vocally,

defaulted, to make up for that decline, to a "verismo"

approach. Conductor and tenor don't approve of verismo in

bel canto. And the conductor tries to sell Miricioiu's

completely "different" approach. Hmm.



If you're looking for something remotely resembling

Bellini's opera, you can safely stay away from this one.

But if you don't want to play it safe, and need something

mesmerizingly terrible to watch, then this is your fix!



By far, the worst Norma I've ever encountered. Why? Because it replaces Bellini's and Romani's Norma with an American movie plot. The designers, directors and producers evidently felt the opera was not good enough to stand on its own.



"

Novel production--good singing

C. Harbison | Montague, MA United States | 11/06/2006

(4 out of 5 stars)

"What should contemporary stage directors do with a classic operatic masterpiece like Bellini's Norma whose story seems so totally defined by a certain time or place (in this case Roman-occupied Gaul)? In this Dutch production, the director has tried to breathe new life into the work by making the two female leads (Norma and Adalgisa) competing contemporary opera divas who are also participating in a production of Norma--and they are competing for the real-life love of a tenor who of course is also in the opera. Sometimes this multi-layered conceit works and sometimes it runs directly counter to the words of the libretto (especially at the end when the Norma diva is portrayed as having won the battle and going off stage to live happily ever after with her tenor/lover while the chorus sings of the funeral pyre and Norma's tears--she's smiling!). So it is altogether an interesting but uneven attempt to bring a fresh perspective to this beautiful score. Musically the performance is very good, especially the orchestra and Norma herself (Hasmik Papian). Adalgisa is a bit shrill (Irini Tsirakidis) and Pollione (Hugh Smith) has to huff and puff to get through his part. Certainly this is not a first choice for anyone unfamiliar with this opera (there is a great performance on DVD by Caballe and a very good one by June Anderson)--but it's an interesting addition to the catalog."