Musical Offering #2

A preview of the 2024-25 Metropolitan Opera season

The 2024-25 Metropolitan Opera season will match last season and the Covid-stricken 2019-20 season for the fewest productions put on by the Met since the strike-shortened 1980-81 season.¹ Since the onset of Covid-19, the Met has been in a deep financial hole, compounding long term trends like declining attendance and dying donors. This season, the Metropolitan Opera will be staging 18 productions—as many as the 2023-24 season, but down from historical averages (23 in 2022-23, 27 in 2018-19, 26 in 2017-18).

In an attempt to fill seats, the Met has selected an exceptionally unambitious program. With a few exceptions, the season’s operas are all—as much as such can exist in opera—well-trod crowd-pleasers. Almost half of the productions come from the most popular works of Mozart, Verdi, and Puccini. There will be no works by Handel or Purcell or Monteverdi as none of the operas date from before the classical period. Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro, which premiered in 1786, will be the earliest. Other notable omissions from the season include Gaetano Donizetti, Vincenzo Bellini, Alban Berg, and most egregiously Richard Wagner.

The upshot is that this season’s selections are all—aside from the four contemporary operas, for whose quality I cannot vouch—excellent. These are largely proven classics that long-time attendees will love and many of which will provide a great entry point for newcomers. Concerns about the long term trajectory of opera aside, I was quite excited when I saw the schedule. I’m planning on attending almost every one.

A word about those four contemporary operas. In a stratagem employed by many opera houses, the Met is continuing to bet that new operas will attract new (ideally younger) patrons. The Met’s commitment to staging new works should be commended; yet I wonder why the Met isn’t staging more ambitious productions of repertory operas. A David Hockney production hasn’t been seen at the Met since the 80s. Let’s get one in again while he’s still alive. Another William Kentridge could be nice. And Thomas Jolly, who directed the 2024 Summer Olympics opening ceremony, and who has experience producing opera, would surely be a huge draw after this summer.

More broadly, these attempts at seizing the new feel, nonetheless, a little unimaginative. Would Laurie Anderson or Leos Carax try their hand at an opera production? Hell, what about Miranda July? Next season’s Met premiere of Kaija Saariaho's Innocence, and the following season’s Met premiere of Missy Mazzoli’s Lincoln in the Bardo, directed by Lileana Blain-Cruz, point to a daring in the Met’s artistic programming that one hopes could be spread to other productions.

But let’s return to the season at hand. Below, I will give brief notes on each of this season’s operas in order of opening date. Each month, I will also endeavor to write a longer piece previewing the month’s attractions and commenting on my previous month’s viewings. For this offering, I will be giving a piece either from the opera in discussion or another operatic piece by the composer if the opera has not yet been recorded.

The Metropolitan Opera House is a special place for me. I hope that this project will get others excited for the season’s offerings and entice you to join me for a few nights at the opera.

Here are my offerings:

Grounded by Jeanine Tesori / Libretto By George Brant

English, 2023 (New Production)

The season opens with Grounded, co-produced by the Met and the Kennedy Center, where it premiered in 2023. Grounded, based on George Brant’s 2013 play of the same name, tells the story of a female fighter pilot who is grounded by pregnancy and whose duties after giving birth shift to flying drones remotely, causing her immense mental suffering.

Jeanine Tesori is, according to Wikipedia, “the most prolific and honored female theatrical composer in history, with five Broadway musicals and six Tony Award nominations.” She has composed a few operas before as well, most notably Blue, which explores the effects of police brutality on a Black family—the father of which also happens to be a police officer. Grounded received mixed reviews last year. Unfortunately, I can’t say I know much more about her work, which include a production of Mother Courage and Her Children, the Tony Award winning musicals Fun Home and Kimberly Akimbo, and the Tony Award nominated Shrek the Musical. I tend to discourage newcomers from a contemporary piece for their first time; and even setting the inordinate cringe-potential of this particular opera aside, I’ll warn against it here as well. But I can’t say I’m not intrigued.

I have included a very nice little aria from Act I of Blue in my offering.

Les Contes d’Hoffmann by Jacques Offenbach

French, 1881

Jacques Offenbach is best known for writing the “Galop infernal”—an instantly recognizable piece of can-can music, which has become synonymous not just with the high-kicking, undergarment-revealing cabaret dance but with France in general. Offenbach wrote almost 100 operettas including Orphée aux Enfers, wherein the “Galop infernal” features, and is generally considered the progenitor of modern musical theater. But it is his great unfinished Les Contes d’Hoffmann which has cemented his place in the operatic repertoire. Les Contes employs a frame narrative about the lovelorn German Romantic author E. T. A. Hoffmann, widely considered one of the great writers of German Romanticism but little read today. As the Muse of poetry and jealous rival conspire to frustrate Hoffman’s romantic (that’s little r) desires, he tells three stories of his thwarted loves.

As tempting as it would be to give you the “Galop infernal,” I’ll instead offer the sublime barcarolle “Belle nuit, ô nuit d'amour.” This lovely duet for soprano and mezzo-soprano appears in Act III. In it, a Venetian courtesan and the muse of poetry praise the sweetness of nights filled with love. It’s a perfect song for a summer romance, real or imagined. The recording stars Elina Garanca, who will be playing Amneris in Aida this season, and the incomparable Anna Netrebko, who has been barred from the Met Opera for her initial refusal to distance herself from Vladimir Putin—and for her inability to stop saying that the role of Aida should be performed in blackface.

I’m a sucker for a love story, particularly if the male protagonist never finds romance. Come September I will surely be in attendance.

Tosca by Giacomo Puccini

Italian, 1900

Tosca is one of Puccini’s most thrilling and enduring operas. A melodrama about the eponymous opera singer, who must save her lover, the painter Cavaradossi, from the clutches of the sadistic police chief Scarpia, Tosca’s enduring popularity is more than justified. Puccini is a master of composing soaring, emotional arias. While it’s not my favorite of this season’s operas, I do recommend it.

Since I have already seen this production of Tosca, I considered skipping it this season before seeing two names: Lise Davidsen and Bryn Terfel. Lise Davidsen, who stands at 6’ 3'' and sings with the force of an air siren, is best known for her performances of Strauss. This will be her first time singing Tosca at the Met. Later, the great Welsh bass-baritone Bryn Terfel will be returning to the Met for the first time in over a decade as Scarpia. He sings in my favorite recording of the Toreador Song ("Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre") from Carmen so I’ll try to make it out to see him, perhaps at a score desk.

In my offering is a recording of “Vissi d’arte” sung with incredible passion and sensitivity by Maria Callas.

Rigoletto by Giuseppe Verdi

Italian, 1851

It was a performance of this opera at the Teatro Colon in Buenos Aires, in 2019, that sealed my passion for the art form. In Rigoletto, a hunchbacked jester (Rigoletto) seeks revenge against his employer the Duke of Mantua for seducing his daughter, Gilda. The story starts off depressing and only gets more so as all hope and light are gradually sucked out from the stage until the curtain finally falls. For me, it recalls Lars von Trier’s Breaking the Waves, but without the requisite nod to a happy ending. Rigoletto devastated me the first time I saw it and has continued to each time since. I will certainly watch it again, if only for the memories it carries.

That said, this production by Bartlett Sher was a bit of a dud when I saw it debuted during the 2021-22 season. For some reason, it’s set in Weimar Germany. Perhaps I’m unduly influenced by the memories of first love; but the costuming and set design all seemed rather hokey and distracting. Despite what one might think, the setting didn’t add any interesting political elements either. I will still encourage my readers to catch a performance, but if you don’t, the 1982 opera film by Jean-Pierre Ponnelle, conducted by Riccardo Chailly and starring Ingvar Wexell, Edita Gruberová, and Luciano Pavarotti, is an excellent alternative and easy to find on YouTube.

Rigoletto is filled curtain-to-curtain with hits so it’s very hard to find a single piece to offer. “La donna è mobile,” a spritely, bombastic ode to woman’s fickleness, is justifiably one of the most famous pieces of music ever. Then there’s “Caro nome,” a tender yet obscurely haunting aria about the precious gift that is a lover’s name. A personal favorite is Rigoletto’s “Si, vendetta” which I play whenever I think about a minor slight from a former boss. But if there’s one piece here that best captures Verdi’s musical genius it’s probably the vocal quartet “Bella figlia dell’amore,” which interweaves the voices and thoughts of two pairs of characters: Rigoletto and his daughter Gilda, and the Duke of Mantua and Maddalena, the sister of the assassin Sparafucile who uses her as a lure. It is a masterpiece of voice writing and drama, at once a musical achievement of the highest order and shocking in the course of the plot. It remains unequaled by any other composer in the history of opera.

Ainadamar by Osvaldo Golijov / Libretto By David Henry Hwang

Spanish, 2003 (New Production)

Ainadamar is a flamenco-influenced opera about the love between Federico García Lorca, played in a breeches role by a mezzo-soprano, and his muse, the actress Margarita Xirgu. Aside from that, I don’t really know much about it. But coming in at a crisp 95 minutes, there’s no reason for me not to go. I gave a recording by the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra under the baton of Robert Spano a quick listen and quite enjoyed the Act I duet “Mariana, tus ojos,” sung by Dawn Upshaw and Jessica Rivera, which I now offer up to you.

Il Trovatore by Giuseppe Verdi

Italian, 1853

A tale of love, mistaken identity, curses, and vengeance, Il Trovatore is another Verdi classic. Enrico Caruso famously said that all a good performance of Il Trovatore requires is four of the greatest singers in the world. Candidly, I’m not sure we will have that at the Met this season. But it’s a dramatic and propulsive opera, excellent for new fans, that I will be sure not to miss. I have not seen David McVicar’s “Goya-inspired” staging which, for some reason, takes place during the Peninsular War. In general, opera companies tend to be risk-averse when staging new productions of repertory operas because they need the production to pay off over many seasons. That’s why you get all these nonsensical, unambitious settings. I doubt audiences will learn anything new about the Peninsular War here. Verdi himself was obsessed with politics, particularly that of the Risorgimento, so it would do honor to his legacy to have productions with more heft.

While I was tempted to go with the Anvil Chorus, I’ve decided to offer up the Act III aria “Di quella pira,” sung by Luciano Pavarotti. Manrico sings this aria when, just before he and Leonora can take their wedding vows, a comrade rushes in to announce that Manrico’s mother, Azucena, has been captured and is to be burned at the stake. It’s an aria of incredible power—featuring subtle and rather unique vocal interplay between the tenor and the chorus—as Manrico rallies his troops to descend from their besieged fortress. It’s a hell of a way to close the third act, which no one does quite like Verdi.

La Bohème by Giacomo Puccini

Italian, 1896

La Bohème is one of the most famous of operas, in part because it inspired the hit Broadway musical Rent. It’s a classic story of poor, starving artists, loving, living, and trying to make it through the winter while not dying of tuberculosis. Rodolfo and Mimi’s scenes are full of wonderful and emotional music. However, La Bohème is also performed nearly every season, and I’m pretty sure this Franco Zeffirelli production dates to the Ming Dynasty, so I won’t be seeing it. But if you haven’t seen it before, it might be worth checking out.

There are a lot of great arias in La Bohème, but I couldn’t help but choose “O soave fanciulla,” here sung by Luciano Pavarotti and Mirella Freni with the Berliner Philharmoniker under the baton of Herbert von Karajan. It’s a lovely duet, capturing in sound the mutual realization between Rodolfo and Mimi that they have fallen in love.

Die Frau ohne Schatten by Richard Strauss

German, 1919

This symbolism-laden opera is widely considered one of Strauss’ finest. Set in the mythical empire of the South Eastern Islands, the opera tells the story of the titular half-human Empress whose lack of a shadow signifies her inability to bear children. Her father Keikobad, the King of the Spirit Realm, declares that unless she finds a shadow before the end of the twelfth moon she will be reclaimed by her father, and her husband, the Emperor, will be turned to stone.

At an estimated 4 hour 10 minute run time, this will be the longest opera at the Met this season. As such, while I plan to be in attendance—campy love myths being a weakness of mine—, I would encourage newcomers to the form to inoculate themselves with another opera before braving this one. Strauss is somewhat light on big, highly ornamented arias in the Italian style. His arias rely more on a combination of orchestral complexity and psychological, very Germanic, depth, so it was a bit difficult to find a suitable selection of music. But I’ll point you towards a gorgeous aria, elevated by its heartbreaking violin accompaniment, from Act III, in which the Empress pleads with her father to show her how to acquire a shadow.

The Magic Flute—Holiday Presentation by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

English, 1791 (English adaptation by J. D. McClatchy, 2006)

Purists often thumb their noses at this bowdlerized one-act children’s version of Die Zauberflöte sung in English. But the author admits to finding it exceedingly charming. I took my parents to see it during the 2018-19 season, and they had a lovely time. That was the first production I saw at the Met; clearly, it was enough to keep me going since.

The production is by Julia Taymor, who also directed The Lion King on Broadway, as well as the Spider-Man musical that kept nearly killing people. Kids and adults alike will enjoy the symbol-heavy decor, abundant puppetry, and cheap gags. The singing may not be top notch, but as long as the orchestra is playing Mozart everything should be fine. I make no secret of my love of Die Zauberflöte, and I will continue to attend this production as part of my holiday tradition. I hope you will as well.

For the first of my two offerings from Die Zauberflöte, I am giving you the first of the two Queen of the Night arias “O zittre nichte.” In it, the Queen of Night tells Tamino how her daughter Tamina was stolen from her by Sarastro and commands him to bring Tamina back and exact vengeance. No less demanding or intricate than the more famous “Der hölle rache,” this aria requires great flexibility and finesse from the singer. This recording is of Roberta Peters with the Berliner Philharmoniker under the baton of Karl Böhm.

Aida by Giuseppe Verdi

Italian, 1871 (New production)

For its New Year’s Eve concert, the Met has selected Aida. The story is a pretty standard Verdi tale about love on one side and duty to your nation on the other. There is a love triangle and a call for retribution, the requisite procession. All peak Verdi.

The Triumphal March is a particularly jaunty piece, and it will be fun guessing how many horses (or other animals?) the Met will decide to trot out in this new production by Michael Mayer. Originally scheduled to debut in the 2020-21 season, the opening was postponed due to Covid. (For whatever reason, the Met rolled out its 34 year old staging by Sonja Frisell in the 2022-23 season.) From what I can gather, the new production looks pretty standard. It’s still in ancient Egypt, but a bit more eye-catching, with its golds and dark blues, than the sandy-looking old production. I think Aida was the only opera I saw when I lived in Chicago. It didn’t make much of an impact on 18-year old me. But when I saw it again during the Met’s 2022-23 season, I enjoyed it much more. I make no secret of or apologies for my love of ancient Egypt and of the concept of “being buried alive with your lover in a pyramid.” I will certainly make it out to see this production.

There are many tempting pieces to choose from. There are the powerfully expressive arias “Celeste Aida,” “Ritorna vincitor,” and “O Patria Mia,” the heartbreaking trio finale “O terra, addio, valle di pianti,” and of course the grandiose Triumphal March. But in making my selection I believe I found a clever compromise that takes a morsel of inspiration from each of those possibilities: the Act II Gran Finale finale version of “Gloria all’Egitto, ad Iside.” This piece adds to the chorus the voices of all the main characters and, at the end, slaps on a little refrain from the Triumphal March. It demonstrates all of Verdi’s prowess as an orchestral composer and his incredible sensitivity in weaving the voices of the principal singers into the larger choral fabric. It’s a showstopper when performed in person. This recording features the New Philharmonia Orchestra and the Chorus of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, under the baton of Riccardo Muti, with Montserrat Caballé, Plácido Domingo, Fiorenza Cossotto, Luigi Roni, Nicolai Ghiaurov, and Piero Cappuccilli.

Moby-Dick by Jake Heggie / Libretto By Gene Scheer

English, 2010 (New production)

Heggie is coming off a win with his well received opera Dead Man Walking, which premiered last season. I thought the music and singing were just fine, but I’m curious how a Moby-Dick opera will play. It’s one of my favorite books, so I’m sure it’ll be a disappointment. But hey, why not try?

For this section, I am offering “This journey, this journey to Christ” from Dead Man Walking, mostly because I like listening to Joyce DiDonato. The Heggie-invented hymn “He will gather us around, all around” is probably the most impressive song from the opera, but without context there’s too much going on in the recording.

Fidelio by Ludwig Van Beethoven

German, 1814

Despite its place in the repertory, Beethoven’s only opera Fidelio is considered rather flawed. I’ve never seen it performed before, but apparently the plot suffers from abrupt tonal shifts between comic and serious elements. Subtitled “oder Der Triumph der ehelichen Liebe” (“or The Triumph of Marital Love”), Fidelio tells the story of Leonore, who disguises herself as a man, Fidelio, to save her husband Florestan who has been made a political prisoner by a rival nobleman, Pizarro, in revenge for his muckraking. People tend mostly to appreciate the Leonore Overtures, which feature some of Beethoven’s best symphonic writing. The vocal writing on the other hand can often be rather awkward. Still, I love Beethoven for all his many flaws and will certainly be in attendance. This is maybe not the greatest first opera, but if you love Beethoven’s symphonies you will likely enjoy many of the pieces. I’ll save my final judgment for after I see it.

I am offering the Canon Quartet “Mir ist so wunderbar” about the love Marzelline has for Fidelio, not realizing that he is Leonore in disguise. The other singers are Fidelio/Leonore, Jaquino, who from besottment wishes to marry Marzelline, and Marzelline’s father Rocco. A delightful little canon taking place in a goofy situation in what is supposed to be a serious opera.

Die Zauberflöte by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

German, 1791

If you see one production this season, make it this. This production was first staged in the 2022-23 season and was an absolute riot. Purists might take umbrage at its liberties, but the author commends it for sheer joyfulness. There is an onstage artist creating Joan Jonas-style chalk drawings that are projected on stage, another onstage artist visibly crafting the sound effects, and a dozen-odd puppeteers with paper birds following the comically ill-starred Papageno around. Even the orchestra pit is lifted so that the orchestra becomes part of the production: the namesake Magic Flute is given to the first flutist to be played, as are Papageno’s silver bells to an absentminded percussionist. Die Zauberflöte is Mozart’s greatest opera. It’s a wondrous combination of humor, happiness, and love, all rearticulated as part of the sublime joy of making and hearing music. It is life-affirming and sweet and funny, reminding us that farce and wonder often go hand in hand. I will likely go my whole life without being able to find the words appropriate to my love of this opera. All I can say is: go.

As a sentimental and perpetually lovelorn birdman myself, I had to choose as my second offering from this opera the Papageno-Papagena duet. It takes place after Papageno has seemingly lost his chance with his tailor-made, parallel bird-maiden Papagena. Just when he is about to hang himself, three child spirits appear to remind him that he still has the magic, deus ex machina bells they gave him. Surely enough, playing the magic bells summons Papagena back to him, leading into a lovely little duet extolling the virtues of love, marriage, and abundant procreation. This recording, featuring the legendary Dietrich Fischer-Dieskau (but unfortunately with sopranos instead of child singers), combines all these little scenes into one track.

Le Nozze di Figaro by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

Italian, 1786

The first of the Mozart-Da Ponte operas, Le Nozze di Figaro is essentially a slapstick comedy. The characters hide under beds, jump out of windows, crossdress, and fumble in the dark. It’s a silly opera with incredible music. Taking place on a single day, the opera centers on Figaro and his bride-to-be Susanna as they attempt to wed while constantly thwarting the Count Almaviva’s attempts to claim his droit du seigneur. It has some uproariously funny moments but is fundamentally a very sweet opera about love and marriage, fidelity and forgiveness. The Met is once again bringing out its Richard Eyre production, which debuted during the 2014-15 season and which is mostly notable for how much spinning the stage does. It’s a perfectly charming production that I will be glad to see again. Moreover, Berlin-based star conductor Joana “Look, I haven’t seen Tár yet” Mallwitz, fresh off a well-reviewed recording of Kurt Weill’s symphonies for Deutsche Grammophon, will be making her much-anticipated Met Opera debut.

There are a few really enticing arias and an instantly recognizable overture from which to choose. But for my offering, I am giving you “Porgi amor,” sung by Gundula Janowitz with the Orchester der Deutschen Oper Berlin under the baton of Karl Böhm. It’s an absolutely heartrending aria wherein the Count Almaviva’s wife Rosina pleads to Love, in the midst of her husband’s many infidelities, to bring him back to her.

Il Barbiere di Siviglia by Gioachino Rossini

Italian, 1816

Rossini’s opera, also featuring the character of Figaro, is another comedic masterpiece. It is based on the first of the three Figaro plays by Pierre Beaumarchais—Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro is based on the second—so viewers will enjoy seeing many of the same characters in both (Figaro, Almaviva, Rosina, Bartolo). I somehow have never seen it in person so I will be certain to go. I can’t guarantee it, but it should make for a fine first opera.

At this point, I am going to stop going against the grain for every offering and will simply offer “Largo al factotum della città” with its abundant “Figaro”s. Listen to the overture too if you have the time.

Salome by Richard Strauss

German, 1905 (New production)

Hot girls of New York City will surely be posting about this opera come late April. Based on the Oscar Wilde play, this one act opera by Strauss shocked contemporary audiences with its combination of the erotic and the murderous. Salome wants the head of St. John the Baptist from her stepfather, King Herod. And her means of acquiring it is a performance of the seductive “Dance of the Seven Veils,” wherein she strips veils from her body one by one until, well… Strauss wanted the singer to actually go nude for the “Dance of the Seven Veils.” But I don’t think you’ll be seeing Elsa van den Heever in nature’s garb. This new production by Claus Guth updates the setting from the first century C.E. Judea to Oscar Wilde’s Victorian England, which no doubt is a commentary on Victorian prurience, or something. Like the hot girls of New York City, I will be in attendance.

Obviously, you’re getting the “Dance of the Seven Veils” for this one. The only other reasonable choice would have been the finale, but that didn’t sit right with me. The “Dance of the Seven Veils” exudes sensuality and eroticism with its lush, quasi-Oriental themes, irresistible to a verified Oriental such as myself. I have chosen an excellent recording by Herbert von Karajan, since the recording on Spotify by Sir Georg Solti and the Wiener Philharmoniker has a pretty noticeable skip at the beginning.

Antony and Cleopatra by John Adams

English, 2022 (New production)

The Met will be closing its season with this new opera by John Adams, co-commissioned by the Met, the San Francisco Opera, and the Liceu Opera Barcelona. This was my good friend and cofounder Paul’s first opera. He found it kind of boring. Other reviews aren’t stellar either, with one calling it dull and straightforward. Generally, Shakespeare adapts poorly to opera. Too much of the Bard’s language gets lost in putting the story to music. The main exception to that rule is Verdi’s Falstaff, which benefits from Merry Wives of Windsor being one of Shakespeare’s worst plays and from the opera consisting mostly of fat jokes. Anyways, I love John Adams so I’ll probably still go to this. But at an estimated runtime of 3 hours and 25 minutes, I would not recommend it as a first opera.

For my offering, I decided to choose something from a sentimental favorite, Nixon in China. I will have to write something on this opera at some point because it’s full of irresistible music and pathos. The opening with “The People are the heroes now” and the “Landing of the Spirit of ‘76” are captivating, as are the quieter arias like Chou En-lai’s finale “I am old and I cannot sleep.” Then there’s the jaunty number “Flesh rebels,” which combines two of my great loves: ballet and communist sloganeering; that’s probably best seen on YouTube. In the end I settled on “I am the wife of Mao Tse-Tung” which combines Adams’ propulsive quasi-minimalist orchestration with lyrics plumbing the depths of Chiang Ch’ing’s character (“At the breast of history / I sucked and pissed / Thoughtless and heartless / Red and blind / I cut my teeth upon the land / And when I walked my feet were bound / On revolution,” “Let me be a grain of sand in heaven’s eye / And I shall taste eternal joy”).

The Queen of Spades by Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky

Russian, 1890

There will be only five performances of this Tchaikovsky opera, based on a Pushkin short story. It will be performed alongside Antony and Cleopatra on the last day of the season with this one as the matinee. I don’t know much about either the opera or the short story, but I love both Tchaikovsky and Pushkin so I will surely be in attendance.

For my final offering, please enjoy a sweet little duet, “Moi milenki druzhok” («Мой миленький дружок», “My dear little friend”), sung by Olga Borodina and Maria Guleghina, backed by the Mariinsky Orchestra under the baton of Valery Gergiev.

1. https://apnews.com/article/met-opera-2024-2025-season-529c72142f1d7b744b3048dc1f37f93f