Donald Runnicles Conducts Mahler First at SF Symphony

The magnificent 70-year-old Scottish conductor Donald Runnicles returned to the San Francisco Symphony for the first time in years with a program that was pure fin-de-siècle Vienna: Alban Berg's Seven Early Songs and Gustav Mahler's Symphony No. 1. Runnicles was the Music Director at the SF Opera for 17 years (1992-2009) and has repeatedly returned there for large, ambitious productions such as Berlioz's Les Troyens and Strauss's Die Frau Ohne Schatten. On Friday evening's opening concert, Davies Hall was only about two-thirds full but seemingly all my classical music-loving friends were in attendance along with half of the administrative staff of the SF Opera from across the street. The concert was a triumph for the conductor and all the SF Symphony musicians, and if you would like a detailed account of the music, check out Lisa Hirsch's ecstatic review here. (All photos are by Kristen Loken.)

The Berg songs were written for voice and piano between 1905-1908, but when he went to study with Arnold Schoenberg, the older composer told him to stop writing art songs and concentrate on instrumental music. Twenty years later, Berg took a selection of seven of these early songs and rearranged them for a soprano and large orchestra. The soloist was American mezzo-soprano Irene Roberts, who was last seen in San Francisco as Offred in the operatic version of The Handmaid's Tale last year. It was a treat to see her looking so glamorous instead of being in the punishing outfits of Gilead, and she was in great voice, soaring easily over the large orchestra.

The Berg piece was less than 20 minutes long, followed by a 20 minute intermission, which felt a little weird. However, nobody felt cheated because the Mahler Symphony No. 1 that followed was deep, dense, and meaty enough to fill out a program on its own.

Runnicles seemed to be enjoying himself immensely and the same was true for the instrumentalists who all had their moments to individually shine in this intricate, eccentric, revolutionary score, composed in 1888 and then revised in 1906. Let's hope Runnicles returns again soon, both to the SF Symphony and the SF Opera, because he seems to be one of those conductors who only get better as they grow older.

Rigoletto at SF Opera

A splendid revival of an old Mark Lamos production of Verdi's Rigoletto opened the San Francisco Opera season this month, and I saw the penultimate performance on Wednesday, where the cast and orchestra under Music Director Eun Sun Kim gelled for a gripping musical evening. The libretto is adapted from an 1832 play by Victor Hugo, Le roi s'amuse, which was immediately banned in France after one performance and not revived in that country until 50 years later. Verdi's closely adapted 1851 opera version ran into its own censorship problems as it also featured the real-life licentious 16th century French king, Frances I, and his hunchbacked jester Triboulet. In a compromise with the censors, Verdi and his librettist Francesco Maria Piave moved the story to Mantua, Italy, demoted the king to a Duke, and changed all the names to protect the guilty. (All production photos by Cory Weaver.)

The opera was an immediate global success with audiences but not with professional critics, including one Venetian who decried its "deformed and repulsive" story inspired by "the Satanic school." The narrative certainly is dark and brutal throughout, but is brightened by some of the most gorgeous music ever composed by Verdi. The title role of the hunchbacked jester (a disabled detail that tends to be jettisoned in modern productions) is one of the pinnacles of the baritone repertory, and Mongolian singer Amartuvshin Enkhbat has been one of its musical masters for the last two decades.

Musical appreciation for operatic voices is completely subjective, as a glance at any operatic chat room online will attest (click here for Parterre Box). For instance, some people hate the voice of Maria Callas while others worship it, and there's no right or wrong reaction. Enkhbat doesn't do enough for me in terms of characterization with his acting and his voice, but everyone whose musical opinions I respect absolutely adore him, so the problem is mine. I did love baritone Aleksey Bogdanov (pictured above behind Rigoletto) as Count Monterone, whose curse on the jester and the duke sets the tragedy in motion.

The bass Peixin Chen, another wonderful low voice, played professional assassin Sparafucile, and his scene offering his services to Rigoletto shared the same dark moodiness as the King and the Spanish Inquisitor duet in Verdi's later Don Carlo.

Rigoletto is almost completely a masculine opera, including the depraved courtiers sung superbly by the SF Opera Chorus, and it has only two female roles. The Romanian soprano Adela Zaharia played Gilda, Rigoletto's teenage daughter who has just been retrieved from the convent, and she was absolutely spectacular.

This character is often played as so innocent that she seems like a nincompoop, particularly when she sacrifices her life for the Duke in the final act, but Zaharia played her as a strong-willed young woman who has found love for the first time. Her famous Caro Nome aria, where she muses on the fake name that the Duke has given her while posing as a poor student, was the best version I have ever heard, and the orchestra supported her beautifully.

After being kidnapped by the courtiers and delivered to the duke as a new sexual treat, rather like Epstein and Trump in our own time, Zaharia convincingly conveyed Gilda's mixture of shame and romantic longing after she's been used and tossed aside.

The musical and emotional heart of the opera is in the duets between father and daughter, rather like Simon Boccanegra, and Zaharia's incredible voice was heartbreaking.

The other female character is Maddalena, sister and accomplice of the assassin Sparafucile, sung by J'Nai Bridges in an amusing, sexy performance. The Duke of Mantua is written to be charismatically handsome, and he gets most of the hit tunes, including the irresistable, sexist La donna è mobile. Though perfectly adequate, tenor Yongzhao Yu's portrayal did not come across as charmingly attractive at all, so it was hard to believe in Gilda's and Maddelena's desire to save him. It was a minor hiccup, though, and if you get a chance to make it to the final performance on Saturday the 27th, do so.

Dead Man Walking Returns to SF Opera

Like a virgin, I saw Dead Man Walking at the San Francisco Opera for the very first time last Saturday. I never read the 1993 bestselling memoir by Sister Helen Prejean detailing her work with Louisiana death row convicts, nor the Oscar-winning 1995 film with Susan Sarandon and Sean Penn, nor the 2002 play written by actor/director Tim Robbins, nor any production of the 2000 opera composed by Jake Heggie to a libretto by playwright Terrence McNally. (Click here for an interesting essay by Heggie about their collaboration.)

The work was commissioned by the San Francisco Opera under General Director Lotfi Mansouri who loved turning his favorite movies into operas, for instance A Streetcar Named Desire and Dangerous Liaisons. This season's return is a triumphant homecoming after its San Francisco Opera premiere 25 years ago and innumerable productions around the world. The current production is a flashy, Broadway-style staging with lots of scenery flying in and out by director Leonard Foglia that has been touring the country for years. Unfortunately, I didn't care for the opera at all. (All production photos by Cory Weaver.)

The problem certainly was not the singers, because there was luxury casting throughout, starting with mezzo-soprano Jamie Barton as Sister Helen. Barton currently has one of the richest voices in the operatic world and it's a pleasure to hear her sing just about anything, but Heggie's vocal lines were so dull that her gifts felt wasted.

The divine mezzo-soprano Susan Graham performed Sister Helen at the 2000 premiere, and she returned to play the mother of the convicted murderer, a role originated for another legendary mezzo-soprano, Frederica von Stade. She was ably supported by Nikola Printz, Caroline Corrales, Samuel White, and the great veteran baritone Rod Gilfry as the grieving parents advocating vengeful justice.

Gilfry also appeared in last year's SF Opera co-commission, Kaija Saariaho's Innocence, which dealt with a community destroyed by a school shooting. Dead Man Walking's libretto is filled with out-of-place Broadway humor, platitudes about grief, and moral transcendence cliches while Saariaho's masterpiece was filled with nuance, ambiguity, and genuine power. Innocence also had an amazing, interesting musical score while Heggie's music sounds like background for an old-fashioned movie, except for the prison choruses which sound like they were lifted directly from Benjamin Britten's Billy Budd.

The convicted rapist/murderer Joe De Rocher, sung beautifully by baritone Ryan McKinny, is a fictional composite of two death row prisoners that Sister Helen wrote about (the same is true of the film). He's written as a weak, manipulative man drowning in lies who needs Sister Helen's spiritual advice in order to face the truth and take responsibility for his misdeeds.

This role has become something of a homoerotic barihunk showcase, since the singer spends most of the opera in a tank top and underwear, which feels a little jarring. So does the nudity of the two teenagers who are raped and murdered in the opening prologue of the opera, which felt gratuitously shocking. This is the third time I have seen a naked man onstage in a Terrence McNally play (after The Lisbon Traviata and Love! Valour! Compassion!), and it has always come across as prurient rather than theatrically relevant.

The final scenes have De Rocher finally telling the truth to Sister Helen Prejean, apologizing to the grieving parents of his victims, and ends with an interminable scene where he is given a lethal injection by a supernumerary. Sister Helen Prejean has changed much public sentiment and official Catholic attitudes over the last three decades towards capital punishment, and more power to her. I'm sorry that I didn't like this paean to her work better.

SF Symphony All-American Opener

The San Francisco Symphony has offered four different Opening Nights this year, starting with a "Marvel Studios' Infinity Saga Concert Experience" on the first weekend in September. The following week featured conductor Jaap van Zweeden leading the orchestra in Adams, Tchaikovsky and Respighi at the All San Francisco Concert for nonprofits and the following night at the Opening Gala for donors.

The 2025-26 subscription season finally got underway on September 18th, where there was a sweet little party for what's left of the cultural press corp.

To add to the month's uncertainty, it looked like the orchestra would probably go on strike after performing for what felt like years without a contract, but a settlement was announced at the Opening Gala, and the relief on all sides feels palpable. (All concert photos but one are by Stefan Cohen.)

On Thursday, what looked like a pops concert on paper turned out to be more interesting and substantial than expected. James Gaffigan conducted an All-American program, starting with a warm-up piece for large orchestra, The Block. Composed in 2018 by Carlos Simon, the six-minute work is based on six paintings by Romare Bearden of buildings in New York's Harlem neighborhood. Loud and rambunctious, it was over before it seemed to get anywhere.

The longest work on the program was next, Gershwin's 1925 Piano Concerto in F, a remarkable piece of music which I had somehow never heard live before. French pianist Hélène Grimaud was the soloist, playing with her usual virtuosic mastery while looking glamorous and sparkly.

Grimaud is famous for her idiosyncratic choices of tempo and phrasing, and I have heard her be alternately amazing or misguided. On Thursday, she managed to hit all the notes in the difficult Gershwin concerto but she made it look like work while missing the jazzy playfulness that is sprinkled throughout the score.

The orchestra surrounding her had no such problem and they sounded superb under conductor Gaffigan. After intermission, they gave the best performance of Gershwin's 1928 An American in Paris that I have ever heard. Gaffigan and the orchestra took the music seriously rather than as a cute pops staple, while also keeping it lively fun. The final work was another city tour, Duke Ellington's 1950 Harlem suite, orchestrated by Luther Henderson. It rambled all over the place in 20 minutes, featuring everything from rhumbas to extended percussion solos, and it was fascinating.

The brass, percussion, and woodwinds had a real workout during this concert, with standout performances by trumpet principal Mark Inouye, who has his own jazz ensemble and understands how to play this music. All the principals made stellar conributions but it was a special pleasure to hear guest principal trombone Gracie Potter, both because women in brass sections are distressingly rare and and also because she sounded so good. (Photo above by Michael Strickland.)

San Francisco Opera Opening Weekend

The Friday after Labor Day Weekend is the traditional opening of the San Fracisco Opera season...

...and also the opener for San Francisco's Society Season with its ceaseless rounds of charity fêtes.

The opener is a joyful affair with great people watching...

...and the opportunity to bump into old acquaintances like Cedric Westphal and Piper Kujac.

It's also a chance to gaze at outfits courting disaster...

...and completely triumphing.

Two days later, on a sunny Sunday afternoon, the company puts on a free annual concert in Golden Gate Park with star vocalists singing arias, duets and ensembles.

Mezzo-soprano Nikola Printz was one of the afternoon's highlights, singing a faux bel canto aria by Jake Heggie with the full SF Opera Orchestra being conducted by Music Director Eun Sun Kim.

To add to the amusement, we were serendipitously sitting on a blanket next to Printz's mom, who joined us in screaming "Brava!"

Soprano Adela Zaharia, who sang Gilda in the opening night Rigoletto, was fabulous. For an uncharacteristically gushing review by Joshua Kosman of both Rigoletto and the park concert, click here for On a Pacific Aisle.

We eventually joined a picnic group organized by John Lin...

...and spent a happy afternoon with fellow opera addict James Parr.

Labor Day Protest March

A protest organized by federal workers in front of the fed building on Golden Gate Avenue was scheduled for Labor Day morning, and about 100 people showed up, including my favorite political blogger in San Francisco, Jan Adams.

A larger protest and march was scheduled for 11AM at the corner of 16th and Mission Streets.

Exiting BART, I ran into a huge crowd of SEIU workers in purple T-shirts...

...along with contingents from just about every leftist organization in town.

A flatbed truck pulled up to the curb of the intersection and a wonderful singer serenaded the crowd with a Spanish language song.

Unfortunately, the troubadour was succeeded by one strident speaker after another who loved the sound of their own voices.

Like other old veterans of protest marches, I moved away from the speakers and into the shade.

At about a quarter to 12, the protest march got underway...

...traveling up Mission to 18th Street...

...where everyone turned right and made their way to Dolores Park.

There were many sub-categories of horrified disgust towards the current United States regime, from supporters of transsexuals...

...to veterans' groups protesting their shameful treatment.

My favorite contingent was an excellent, improvisatory drum corps that helped to lead the parade.

The Trump Administration is following the Nazi Germany playbook almost exactly, and their ongoing fascist coup only gets more outrageously surreal with each day. Find a way to resist, even if it's just explaining what is going on to non-political friends. Every bit helps.