Monday, January 10
Victoria Litherland
Sorry we've been away so long, pretties. It's just been a non-stop foodfest since Christmas, when, admittedly I used Tebaldi's death as an excuse to be lazy and not write. Tebaldi was good and stuff, but have you ever tasted strawberry daiquiri cake? Priorities, child. Priorities.
That said, it's great to be back, and boy have I got the scoop for you. The Seattle Opera's Manon Lescaut opens this weekend with Carol Vaness in the title role. While the Des Grieux stigma has long kept tenors away from it, it's Manon that presents a real problem. The character, like Butterfly, is a teenager singing long, adultlike phrases over a severe orchestration, and with emotional climaxes that are perhaps foreign to girls of that age. To keep Manon young, plum, but not necessarily full of dumb is a considerable task?one that takes a great deal of intelligence and, in Speight Jenkins' word, glamour. It seems unthinkable that this role has often been given to sopranos in their twilight years, and it is likewise inaccurate to think of Manon Lescaut as a voice-wrecker. From the looks of things, Carol will cut a good character, but she's also making some smart choices regarding her voice. Namely, she's settling it down, professionally. Vaness joins the faculty at the University of Washington this fall.
But what happens when Manon is inhabited by a fresh voice that shows no signs of ever faltering and never shifts off into a compromised territory, where things feel safe but sound uncomfortable? I don't hesitate to say that Victoria Litherland is just such a voice. As the "Silver" cast Manon in Seattle's production, Litherland is certain to overwhelm the ears of the audience. She did so recently when she stepped in for an indisposed Daniela Dess? in the Met's Pagliacci. There were whispers of Tebaldi and Muzio and later, a thunderous ovation.
The term "golden" is so overused with regard to great singers, and perhaps in this case it's even a misnomer. Hearing Victoria's Act II and IV work last night, I'm more inclined to call the voice prismatic. Rather than a single, shimmering metal, the sound miraculously takes on multiple colors on a single pitch, and light and dark qualities are simultaneously evident [ chiaroscuro isn't just for art history geeks]. A lirico-spinto voice with superb command over loud and soft singing; an unworldly security and ease in the low, middle, and high ranges; Ms. Litherland treats the word as sovereign. Too often, when a singer is said to have a colorful voice, what is really being referred to is either the singer's conscious effort to modify vowel quality or the singer's technical and vocal inability to sing the vowels as they are spoken in the original language. The result is rarely moving; instead, words and indeed entire phrases are lost in a mire of vocal constrictions and aural taxations. Victoria attempts no such thing; rather she allows the clarity of the vowels and the crispness of the consonants to take on a life of their own so that the tone itself serves to engender emotion in the listener, rather than impose it on him.
Here are two oldish soundclips that only hint at what the voice is like now [and I have a very strong suspicion that it will only get better]:
- Download Victoria Litherland - Pace, pace mio Dio.
MP3 [64 kbps] | 2.7 MB
- Download Victoria Litherland - Vissi d'arte.
MP3 [64 kbps] | 1.7 MB
This is a major talent [I mean, Jesus: look at her rep]. The talk at Seattle Opera is a flurry of superlatives punctuated by absolute speechless rapture, followed by tears and stuttering. Houses across the globe would do well to pay attention to this very important debut. With such grace on stage and such voluptuous tone, Victoria Litherland most certainly is the recipient Trrill's very first Stamp of Zealous Endorsement for 2005.
That said, it's great to be back, and boy have I got the scoop for you. The Seattle Opera's Manon Lescaut opens this weekend with Carol Vaness in the title role. While the Des Grieux stigma has long kept tenors away from it, it's Manon that presents a real problem. The character, like Butterfly, is a teenager singing long, adultlike phrases over a severe orchestration, and with emotional climaxes that are perhaps foreign to girls of that age. To keep Manon young, plum, but not necessarily full of dumb is a considerable task?one that takes a great deal of intelligence and, in Speight Jenkins' word, glamour. It seems unthinkable that this role has often been given to sopranos in their twilight years, and it is likewise inaccurate to think of Manon Lescaut as a voice-wrecker. From the looks of things, Carol will cut a good character, but she's also making some smart choices regarding her voice. Namely, she's settling it down, professionally. Vaness joins the faculty at the University of Washington this fall.
But what happens when Manon is inhabited by a fresh voice that shows no signs of ever faltering and never shifts off into a compromised territory, where things feel safe but sound uncomfortable? I don't hesitate to say that Victoria Litherland is just such a voice. As the "Silver" cast Manon in Seattle's production, Litherland is certain to overwhelm the ears of the audience. She did so recently when she stepped in for an indisposed Daniela Dess? in the Met's Pagliacci. There were whispers of Tebaldi and Muzio and later, a thunderous ovation.
The term "golden" is so overused with regard to great singers, and perhaps in this case it's even a misnomer. Hearing Victoria's Act II and IV work last night, I'm more inclined to call the voice prismatic. Rather than a single, shimmering metal, the sound miraculously takes on multiple colors on a single pitch, and light and dark qualities are simultaneously evident [ chiaroscuro isn't just for art history geeks]. A lirico-spinto voice with superb command over loud and soft singing; an unworldly security and ease in the low, middle, and high ranges; Ms. Litherland treats the word as sovereign. Too often, when a singer is said to have a colorful voice, what is really being referred to is either the singer's conscious effort to modify vowel quality or the singer's technical and vocal inability to sing the vowels as they are spoken in the original language. The result is rarely moving; instead, words and indeed entire phrases are lost in a mire of vocal constrictions and aural taxations. Victoria attempts no such thing; rather she allows the clarity of the vowels and the crispness of the consonants to take on a life of their own so that the tone itself serves to engender emotion in the listener, rather than impose it on him.
Here are two oldish soundclips that only hint at what the voice is like now [and I have a very strong suspicion that it will only get better]:
- MP3 [64 kbps] | 2.7 MB
MP3 [64 kbps] | 1.7 MB
Comments
Vic (that's what we called her back then) is an old friend from college- down in Orange County. Not only is she a great singer- she is a terrific person, down to earth, funny, funny, funny- her husband Phil, also a terrific singer might even be funnier. Vic and I did Cosi Fan Tutte together in college. Quite a lot of fun. She's also easy on the eyes, as if you couldn't tell. I'll be in the audience on November 20 to hear her Tosca with Opera Pacific.