Re-evaluation time

You know the drill. Sometimes you dismiss an artist/singer as "not your cup of tea" for many years.

Curiously, you reinvestigate and suddenly, BAM, you totally get what they're trying to do. And you can't remember why exactly you didn't like so-and-so, even when you go back to what you had previously experienced when making your first evaluation.

That's happened big-time for me with Eleanor Steber and to a lesser extent Hildegard Behrens.

As you may know, Hildegard Behrens recently passed away in Japan. Obits and retrospectives and starting to sprout, and in the manner of hagiography, more people are speaking of her refulgent and glorious voice than I think were willing to do so while she was still alive (but not actively performing).

The best description I've read of her as an artist is "a true artist adroitly handling an indifferent voice" (JJ of parterre [I believe] when comparing Behrens to a singer who indifferently handled a marvelous voice). The minor revelation came when Nick Scholl posted clips of Behrens in a 1994 outing of Elektra at the Met.

For considerable stretches of the singing, there is a new body to the sound that I hadn't associated with her voice (certainly not present in the singing of the Farberin for Solti) which I always had thought rather washed out pastel in tone color. Slightly whiny and weak-sounding, even though the voice by all accounts had impressive thrust and cut.

These Elektra clips show a more balanced voice -- an upper register that, for the most part, feels anchored in one place rather than the unstable, moorless sound I first associated with her.

Here is an impressive Isolde from Behrens (comparatively early in '81 with Bernstein conducting). The connection is in place. It's certainly more consistent than even in the Elektra.

Weh, ganz allein!


This is in marked contrast with her Kaiserin (it's more dramatic in comparison to her Farberin, but that isn't on the interwebbbbssss)


(Also, why does lesbian sex come up when I do a google video search for "hildegard behrens mozart"?)

Speaking of this very "aria" -- this is the very aria that caused me to re-evaluate Eleanor Steber. I had listened early on to a couple clips -- I think the Ballatella from Pagliacci, a Spectre de la rose (which I thought very bruising after Crespin's, which might be an unfair comparison, since it irrevocably redefined modern conceptions of the piece away from what Maggie Teyte held), but it certainly wasn't this stunning Come scoglio (English) (bonus picture in the last couple minutes of young Steber looking like Renee Fleming).

Steber was famously always fighting what she thought was Met's management underutilization of her. Terribly undiplomatic is how I think people would put it if they were kind. In any event, she arranged a Carnegie Hall recital in which she trotted out an INSANE lineup. The Kaiserin's first act Aria, her Third Act monologue, Qui la voce from Puritani, and a whole crapton of others.

Listening to the below, it brings everything back to focus. I get her singing now.

Ist mein Liebster dahin?


Pace pace


(She has some freaky eye movements though, which makes me think she might have been kind of unbelievable whilst acting. No such worries about Behrens (and OMG, Crespin's performance demeanor is stunning. You can't take your eyes off her) -- while for me, she crosses over a bit into over-the-top flaily flail that Dessay does a lot (and I like not so much in her case either), I haven't ever seen her "singing" even when the camera is shoved in her face. Steber definitely is singing, however well, in the closeups of the Ballatella.)

I had another lesson on Thursday with Sensei (operating nickname) and had some really interesting things happen. The voice seems to be coordinating in a way that is comfortable and feels and sounds exciting. Baby steps, but I've always been a quick learner when I get into a groove.

But mainly, this post is to do some web-foo. There are some youtube videos that I really would love to hear on loop as a sort of meditative cycle. One used to be able to do this by setting up a playlist with two entries of the same clip side by side such that the software would be confused into thinking it was still playing the first one and then loop and loop and loop. But that's been changed, so now the other way to do it is to embed it and put in some lovely flashvars. Let's see if it works.



E: score!

origins

I am obsessed with origins. I didn't think so before, and it wasn't until I read my friend Betsy's blogpost on the subject that my own fascination with the subject became apparent.

I'm not particularly concerned with my origins -- at least not my familial origins -- but with general ideas of personality- or interest-origins. Maybe something along the lines of what Twyla Tharp calls "creative DNA."

After reading Betsy's post, I realized how nutty I am about origins and witnessing them. It explains my weird, mostly culinary desire to make everything from scratch -- from bread, pasta, and rose water (and secondary or tertiary products thereof) to researching how to card and spin yarn from dog hair [this, thankfully, might stay in the theoretical realm]. I used to think that I was interested in the elaborateness of it all; that I was attracted to their long processes because I am famously (or infamously, in my family) impatient.

I think now that it's because of a deep interest in the elementality of raw materials and witnessing their transformation and transmutations into more recognized objects. There's something about the arcane here and also something of the earth. It also manifests in my research interests too: writing about Elgar's Dream of Gerontius, I was interested in how it emerged and departed from oratorio norm; it explains why I am drawn to early music. There's also an element of contrast here, too -- as I'm interested in Berg more than Schoenberg, in non-Western music/art traditions as they influence, borrow, and interact with the Western tradition.

It also explains, in part, why I hunt down singer biographies and focus intently on passages detailing their training and "creative DNA." To be sure, part of it is/was hunting for assurances that I'm not completely out of my mind for starting studying singing the way I have, but it really can't explain all of it.

Origins are interesting. I'm almost beginning to think that it's an instinctual human interest, though the actual patterns or forms it takes differ. I mean, it can't be a mistake that [in the words of a film critic, paraphrased] "stories of becoming are much more interesting than stories of being."

But hey, speaking of origins, I stumbled across this fun interview with Magdalena Kozena. Her bit on not thinking about technique but instead focusing on expression and giving echoes Lorraine Hunt Lieberson's remarks on how her psychological state almost *is* her technique. AND it's basically what new voice teacher's position seems to be. Huh.

MK Interview 1 2
especially cool is the paragraph in the second in which she talks about singing songs written for men. !! I secretly have this dream of whipping out "nacqui all'affanno...non piu mesta" as some sort of cracked out party piece/encore someday.

LHL Interview -- F! I can't find it. Will update.

Found it! OperaNews interview "Wild at Heart" (Nov96, Vol. 61 Issue 5, p12-17)

Relevant section:

LORRAINE: "There are some singers who just have this wide-open, free voice, technically, from the start. But for me that freedom has come gradually, and it's connected to my, well, inner voice. As I become more free, and shed those layers, those skins I don't need, and let go of my past, my voice sort of follows me. I remember doing Donna Elvira, Ms. Torment, at a time when I was really struggling with everything. There were so many obstacles -- high notes, or getting through the aria, whatever -- and I don't think I could even tell whether the struggle was body first or psyche first. I can do more of what I want now, without fear, musically, technically, and it's a huge sigh of relief in my life." (emphasis added)

Instead, here are memorial pieces: OpenSource (audio) SpiderMonkey's Blog

Also, Bach (hello 90s!)

hodge podge

First things first. I've been thinking a lot about getting a bicycle. In fact, I did get one, for about $100. It was with me for a couple months and then was stolen. Also because I locked it up a bit improperly, but it wasn't exactly a bike that I was going to be able to ride around everywhere, nor did it fit the rather specific things I needed my bike to be able to do: be portable, work well in commuter traffice, yet still be able to handle longer tours and bike trips.

Thought about it and it laid dormant. I had been eyeing Bromptons a good deal, but the $$ pricetag on them really stopped me from pulling the build-it-yourself trigger at NYCE Wheels Build Your Own website. This weekend, I went with F to trade in his beat-up Zenetik on-loan from Mt. Airy Bikes for another one the owner said he should try. A folded up Brompton caught my eye and I took it for a spin.

It felt great! The gear selection was such that I really could get quite a bit of power into the wheels and go for a zoom zoom. I'm going to see if I can loan one from them a bit -- or even see if they can give me a better deal than the a la carte one I've built that runs about $1300 at the moment.

Check out its folding action though:


Next, to return to a thought about a previous post on which features make voices really great in baroque/early music, I had a discussion with a friend, and I think it really is all about freedom. There are many pieces of romantic singing (many of them operatic) that can handle what sounds like strain in the vocal production -- Ortrud's Oath, for instance. I have to admit that I kind of like hearing the singer battle the orchestra as she invokes Wotan and Freia -- to hear Varnay flatten her backup band without any sign of strain whatsoever is thrilling in a completely different way.

Christa Ludwig


Astrid Varnay


Even comparing Christa Ludwig's Invocation with Varnay shows a remarkable difference. One is aware of how hard Ludwig is working, and how easily she could clamp down and tense more than she is (which is not very much). It's a clearly comparison with Waltraud Meier. I'll see if I can upload something.

Early music is almost completely unlike this in affect. Virtually at no time should the audience hear how hard you are working. They'll know anyway -- some of this shit is incredibly nutty. (Whatever Vivica Genaux sings would apply).

Alright, so fine -- freedom of the voice is paramount in this music. Meaning that a voice can freely and without inhibition achieve its expressive goals without feeling or sounding like it is hitching or working around technical obstacles, although this just is the very fact of life.

But what sort of standard to you apply in describing a free voice? It's so easy to fall on bizarre little tropes in music criticism when a writer isn't even trying to describe something technically -- the buzzwords range from strapping singers to well-oiled wooden voices (singers?).

It's bizarre, but I recently started to think about singing quality using textile immagery. Was I going for a velvet-feeling sound or a gauzy one? Taking it further, thinking about the vastly different kinds of yarn really did it for me. Someone who loves to knit (like my friend Knitting Pretty in DC might not like mohair, but could see that (I don't know the terms, exactly) that the thread is nice and consistent. The dye holds well, and color shifts are natural and pleasing rather than arbitrary and jarring.

It really pulled into focus how I think about voices and how free they are -- even with tones and colors that I myself do not appreciate.

Finally -- I still can't find a Capriccio sopra la lontananza del suo fratello dilettissimo that I like. The piano ones play the Arioso in such a way that it's either too fast (it is Adagio) or sounds a bit too sentimental. I like the Tureck, but it's somewhat sentimental for me. I think that I like it best on harpsichord, which allows the performer to go even slower (this is almost toooooo slow) without the sentimentality that inevitably creeps in on a piano.

All of which means that I'm going to have to learn it myself and possibly play it on a recital, which I would really like to be crazy vaudevillian more than yucky and staid.

a new direction

It's been brewing for awhile, but the decision was made fairly recently to shoot for entrance into a PhD program (musicology, methinks) after Peabody rather than additional performance degrees or just going on the market as a vocalist.

The reasons are severalfold:

1. I'm good at academics -- more importantly, I think about a lot of things related to music beyond "what's necessary" for a performer. Investigating this would be of interest to me anyway. The model of conductors like Jane Glover and Christopher Hogwood balancing performance and producing scholarly work is appealing, though I'd be approaching it from the other side.


2. Because of #1, it's much more likely that I'd be better funded than if I got an MM and then a DMA.


3. Most importantly, I wouldn't give up pursuit of performance -- but entering this line of scholarship would be beneficial along all sorts of lines. A performance background becomes useful; an academic background is useful in performance; and it's useful to be marketable beyond performance given the vagaries of profession and getting started

I've had quite a bit of support from classmates and professors in pursuing this plan, including the incarnation of moving forward without graduating from Peabody.

And since the application process for programs would begin in earnest in 1.5 years, this would be an interesting time to document it -- not unlike the reason this blog was started in the first place (documenting application to performance programs).

Based on preliminary investigation, programs at Eastman and Berkeley would be very interesting. Eastman was actually put on the map by my ear-training professor -- who is Eastman-trained, thinks I have a shot at the program, and never failing to impress, is a founding member of Alarm Will Sound (a fact which always catches up with me at the most inopportune moments in class).

In terms of setting up research interests, I started thinking back to things I've been interested in/obsessed with. One of the more interesting things is sparked off of comments like this:

I have never found that [Fiery Angel] "works" as an opera.
Indeed, my usual reaction to Prokofiev's operas is that the orchestra seems
to be playing in another room from the voices, or might as well be for all
that either of them seems to have to do with the other.
I find Flaming Angel a very successful tone poem or orchestral suite. But
they should can the singers and the staging, which don't interact with it at
all.

This is even truer of Love for Three Oranges and War & Peace.

Hans Lich
John Yohalem

Not this specific post, certainly, but I've been registering my utter frustration with an aesthetic assumption of "gesamtkunstwerk" or even just underlying cultural expectations of what constitutes "drama," particularly since I grew up watching all sorts of things in a culture which has very different concepts of drama and synergy. Check out this Taiwanese variety show -- its post-processing happiness is readily apparent, though it lays off the visual popups.

clicky

A bit more seriously, although Chinese culture still has a tradition of classical music drama (which is fused inextricably with dance) however different the valuations of "drama," concision and brevity not considered virtues, Japan has an even different configuration. One of its classical dance forms, Kabuki, separates the vocalism from the actors, and the actors themselves inhabit an uneasy intersection of dance and drama when viewed along Western lines.

So, an area of interest of me would be music drama from traditions that do not fall under the purview of Aristotelian ideas of drama but interact with such a tradition. The biggie would probably be Russian opera, followed by Eastern European opera. And then investigating South Asian and East Asian traditions of drama.

I have a lot of reading to do.

what a weekend! my sister graduated from college; I met up with an aunt and my cousin who I haven't seen in 10 years; and all of the insane travel related to thereof. I'm also settling into a really nice summer rhythm. I hope it can carry on into the school year so I'm not completely drowning in my schedule.

Today was pretty perfect. When I was walking home from visiting a friend - the weather was so clear and a beautiful temperature. I could see the moon in the distance as I crossed the bridge -- and as it was just dusking close to home, I saw fireflies! I haven't seen those in years! Enough to paste a spontaneous grin on my face.

Also, I've been totally addicted to Brigitte Fassbaender's singing. There's a set in the "Very Best of" Series (I already own the Mady Mesple (very underrated, in my opinion) and Edda Moser (ditto) compilations. Listening through on Amazon's little player, the Fassbaender one is probably just as stunning! It includes not only Suicidio, but O don fatale (in German), pieces from the Messiah, B Minor Mass, St. John Passion, and the entire Winterreise!! The last is absolutely stunning, the 1 minute snippets of each song that I heard.

Am now listening to her Schwanengesang. The thought of a Fassbaender Eboli rocks my socks. (And according to internet google groups man of letters (and recordings) Simon Roberts, her Azucena and Amneris are pretty great too).

But what I wanted to paste here in sharing (before getting back to school year recap in the next post) is Mirella Freni and Alfredo Kraus in a blockbuster duet from Puritani. YES PURITANI!

I knew that Freni did a very gorgeous recording (although with approximate coloratura) of the mad scene, here she is, singing this thing live! with lovely Alfredo Kraus. And holding her own every bit!

ahoy!

It's been awhile since I've had both the time and inclination to write -- what a semester! But the next series of posts should hopefully bring everything back into relief.

I had started writing this blog to chronicle the sorts of things I encountered in switching into vocal performance. At the outset, I had consciously thought of the possibility of what to do once I did get into school and started attending. Looking back, I don't remember what I felt about my chances of actually getting into places that I applied. Of course I had my dreams, but that's not exactly something that's very rational.

In the same vein of preparing notes and keeping track of progress while applying (and getting ready for auditions), I had imagined my blogging activity would be a benchmark for my progress, development, and breakthroughs while attending school. I've been kind of remiss in keeping track of that, so hopefully this post will also be the beginning of a return to this approach (rather than simply the sharing of awesome found things on the internets..though that won't disappear. You're welcome or sorry depending on your stance).

Breakthroughs:

This first one is a two-parter. I've always had trouble with the [i] vowel -- all sorts of tightness and tension. The first breakthrough came when one of John's former students was in town on a production and came by to say hi. It just so happened that I was performing in the voice department recital and had a lesson afterwards. Ryan asked if I minded if he sat in on my lesson and helped with tongue-placement for the [i] vowel. Namely, making sure the tip of the tongue stays forward (almost even moving it forward to counteract the tendency to pull back on it) in order to encourage the base of the tongue to not clog the throat. Breakthrough 1. The next one came when I was doing exercises with my summer teacher, Ruth, just recently. The other component of stress came from the soft palate collapsing down as the back of the tongue comes up to form the vowel in some sort of sympathetic motion. Once I noticed this was happening, I could think about separating the two parts of my body to do different things at the same time. It's not perfect yet (obviously) but it's a much better, looser sound. The third breakthrough will happen when I can finally embrace the fact that the sound will just have to carry. It'll never be a "beefy" sound on [i].



Truth be told, the big sort of breakthrough of this semester has been developing a finer control of the soft palate so it doesn't just collapse all the time or jerk up or whatnot. This combined with a better connective, deeper support of last semester has smoothed my singing out immensely. Breakthroughs still in the wings include figuring out how "really" to sing up through the passaggio and into the high notes that I'm pretty sure I'll have one day. But they're just tantalizingly (annoyingly) out of reach at the moment. Bah!

Books Read:
Sort of filling out my other obsession, I picked up Julie & Julia in anticipation of waiting around in doctors' offices.

It's a fairly decent read, though the hyperbolic comparison of living in NYC to being in a Khmer Rouge camp (and similar comparisons of her middle-class life to truly desperate conditions) I find in pretty bad taste.

I also picked up volume of Joseph Kerman's criticism written for the New York Review of Books, which I am adoring, despite his polemics in Opera as Drama. I find his reviews to be much more balanced. Though maybe it's just that I've grown up a bit, read a bit more. I'll have to revisit Opera as Drama and see what I think.

And as a lagniappe, I've (re?)discovered Brigitte Fassbaender! I don't know why I always had it in my head that it was a brusque, uneven voice.

Check out these youtubes for some awesome:

Suicidio


Una voce poco fa

So I was sitting in the little food area at Costco and idly watching some of the cashiers, etc.

I noticed this one slender guy with a spring in his step that still seemed to be leaning on everything. Perhaps you've seen similar: closely cropped hair, polo shirt with collar popped, cartilage and lobe piercings. That sort of thing.

But still leaning on surfaces yet not looking totally goofy in the process.

Which reminded me what my mother was telling me about leaning the sound on something. When people stand unsupported, they start wobbling about, even if it's very minor. If they have something to lean on, it'll all be in one direction.

It's a useful visual image, actually -- really interesting in terms of vocalise practices in an attempt to smooth things out and present a more uniform sound. Speaking of, I've been taking a melisma from 'Der teurer' of Bach's SJP. Feels really good and I like that it doesn't start at the bottom and go up but rather starts in the middle, goes down, and then up, then down (so I can ease into the idea of preparing the space for the higher stuff at the beginning). Also, the high stuff comes later so it's a really nice breath control reminder -- and is honing efficiency on higher passages.

But, what this post really is about: parts of the William Klein film of the Messiah conducted by Minkowski.



I might have mentioned in passing once or twice that I'd like to bear Minkowski's children. And I'd also love to be involved in some crazy film project like this.

hiding out

the dearth of posts here at CB recently are possibly attributable to class nuttiness leading up to spring break (on which we are currently! hiding out in the desert). More likely, it's a combination of that, the drain on energy that a more-than-full course load + 25 hour work week crammed into a weekend, uncertainty of what happens next, and possibly general seasonal affective poopery.

However, there are some bright discoveries -- chief among them the delicious produce at H-Mart in nearby Catonsville.


Oh, and my clear desire to one day raise pet/laying chickens/turkeys/ducks. Mmmm! There's something about little clucking birds that are extremely cheering. Obviously, that's probably not going to happen in the middle of downtown Baltimore. But someday...in the distance.



As far as school goes, things are going well. Really, well as can be expected. As a friend is fond of reminding me: "If you're going to overload yourself like that, at least be kind enough to your psyche to forgive it when it can't deliver the top quality that you're used to." As far as vocal instruction goes, I'm working diligently, but I could be working a bit harder. Which I imagine is a pretty good place to be. At least I'm not burning out on it.

Kind of the opposite, it's developing really quite well -- it's just a totally odd feeling sitting here with my still-forming technique and not really able to articulate, even to myself, mentally, why X isn't working. It's easy to see that X isn't working...but the functional reason? Well, I suppose that's why I have a teacher, eh?

And speaking of teacher, not for the last time, I am reminded that the strides I've made this year would not have been possible without this particular student/teacher setup. He's so generous with his energy and his time, it's almost embarrassing to be the beneficiary. And it's a nice incentive to make the most of it. Because, you know, who knows when he will retire.

But anyway, as the first year at Peabody draws to a close, I do have some questions weighing on my mind, and I'm not entirely sure what would/could answer them. But they are nagging all the same, and there's kind of no room for that right now. I've got my first "unveiling" at a voice department recital that I need to pull together and polish. This in this last week.

But what sort of post would this be without some youtube?

whoah, this has been floating around on the intrarwebs for awhile now, but this is actually pretty decent sound and video (i.e., you won't have to turn the volume way way up to hear it).

Julia Varady (a house favorite here) sings Abigaille


This, on the other hand, you will, but it's probably worth it.

Young young Isabel Rey singing for a Caballe masterclass

two thoughts

briefly, because a dinner of empanadas awaits me and I shan't keep them lonely:

1) I had a great conversation with someone (sparked by a good night at the opera) about art not as objects, but rather the relationship between that object its context. This was doubly interesting since I seem to be having a series of such revelations about things, particularly voices and performances. Voices that I hadn't particular feelings about have become instead, very appreciated. And it has to do with context, both within the setting of the voice and my own positionality. It's interesting to think of voice not as some object that is put together, like flowers on a table in a setting or in a vase -- but rather, as a painting thereof because you can't extract it from its setting that way, despite its recognizability (well, sometimes).

2) Earlier in the week I also went to a Handel lecture given by Ellen Harris, whom you may remember from a previous post. She talked about the intersection of the profane and sacred music of Handel's italian output, though it seemed more centered on certain observations about treatments of floridity in these works. Central to her examples is the oratorio "Il Trionfo del tempo e del disinganno" in which Beauty (Bellezza) must choose between Piacere (Pleasure) and Time and Good Counsel (Tempo e Disinganno). In this work, Harris argues, floridity and virtuosity is used to depict something alluring yet dangerous, and because of the librettists insertion of Handel into the scenario in Piacere's palace, a specific kind of virtuosity is employed.

In any case, the work ends with this scene sung by Bellezza. Isabel Rey (who sounds better than last I encountered her, though even in that setting, she sounded better with repeated hearings) and accompanied by Marc Minkowski, whose babies I want to bear.

i'll have something more sometime soon

but for now, let me just say that youtube user "lochness11" posts awesome stuff. to wit:

ok, so twice in a day. in fact in so many hours, but... really?

I've become somewhat obsessed with Steve Reich's piece Piano Phase.

As I understand it, it's a work written for 2 pianos (though Reich has also given latitude for other instruments such as marimba, etc -- and has apparently said that he prefers this performed by percussionists rather than pianists). The pieces consists of twenty-three different musical ideas that are to be played for a duration as determined by the performers. They are instructed to begin playing each idea in unison, then one of the two should begin relaxing the tempo while they other keeps strict time so that the music begins "phasing" out of time, creating a particular kind of euphony that is intense.

Here's a performance with choreography that is breathtakingly and agonizingly beautiful.



There are times when I cannot be absolutely sure that the video speed is kept constant, such is the power of this performance to seemingly stop time. It feels that time itself is manipulated in this piece which is astounding.

music with cojones

Apropos of a comment left by Alex (not me -- of the Wellsungs) at Maury's, I really dig it when performers (conductors, singers, directors -- ya, i think they should be lumped into the performer category. If nothing else, they're performing the more traditionally recognized performers) really give no quarter to the idea that early music is super-decorous and/or limp.

How's this for a shot in the arm:



It's so magnetically sung, and in some ways, I can see the argument for anachronistic stylistic choices in her singing, but it sounds fervently Mozartian still! Wonder of Wonders.

Also, just because she was in the same clip (though unsinging), I'm totally blown away by the disparity between Kasarova's speaking and singing voice.

mockumentary?

courtesy of MFI and musings re Brewer and Vanessa, I discovered this.



I have to admit that I giggled a little bit when the woman from the Post-Dispatch (I think) says "she's a star." It just seemed a mockumentary-type moment a la Christopher Guest movies.

to make do

sometimes we must make do with what we have. and sometimes we realize we have more that's valuable than anybody would have guessed, even ourselves.

I sense that a little bit with Ms. Cathy Berberian, a particular hero of mine if you're late to the party :)

thought

I feel I have been making great progress on fundamental technical issues so far this semester, and while working hard has been a big part of a it, just as important, I think, has been the approach that my teachers has taken with me.



It reminds me of what I read once about Jan DeGaetani's teaching style. One of her former pupils was being interviewed about his own teaching (he was being awarded something for his teaching excellence) and he spoke about DeGaetani's approach. He recalled that sitting in on her lessons, he realized that although she saw all the things that needed to be fixed, she didn't address them head on. Instead, her approach was roundabout, by "the back door" (his words, not mine!), seemingly unconnected to the problem at hand. But lo! the problem would be addressed just as surely as if it had been mentioned explicitly.

creepy

I just saw two performances of Britten's The Turn of the Screw. The two casts are directed in two different readings of the famously open-ended story by Henry James.

Now very intrigued and will probably do some digging into both opera and story (which I had read, but in hiiigh schooool so long ago).

In preliminary stumblings, I found this, a video version featuring, among others, Helen Donath as the singing voice of the Governess:



Of course, I also have to share more upbeat Donath!