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THE TEMPESTUOUS DIVA
When her lover, Cavaradossi, faces execution for aiding a political prisoner, Tosca must make an unthinkable choice: submit to the loathsome Baron Scarpia, chief of police ... or send her true love to the firing squad. Her decision brings the opera to a breathtaking climax.
A passionate tour de force, Puccini's thriller has been beloved by audiences since its premiere. Don't miss the revival of this truly grand production, which critics have called "thrilling" and "a Tosca to remember."
Sung in Italian with English projections above the stage.
Total running time is 2 hours, 45 minutes.
Cast
| Tosca | Kara Shay Thomson |
| Cavaradossi | Roger Honeywell |
| Spoletta | Matthew Grills |
| Jailer | Anton Belov |
| Sciarrone | André Chiang |
| Scarpia | Mark Schnaible |
| Sacristan | Thomas Hammons |
| Angelotti | Nicholas Nelson |
| Jailer | Anton Belov |
| Stage Director | David Kneuss |
| Conductor | Joseph Colaneri |
| Lighting Designer | Don Darnutzer |
ACT I
Cesare Angelotti, an escaped political prisoner, rushes into the church of Sant' Andrea della Valle to hide in the Attavanti chapel. As he vanishes, an old Sacristan shuffles in, praying at the sound of the Angelus. Mario Cavaradossi enters to work on his portrait of Mary Magdalene — inspired by the Marchesa Attavanti (Angelotti's sister), whom he has seen but does not know. Taking out a miniature of the singer Floria Tosca, he compares her raven beauty with that of the blonde Magdalene ("Recondita armonia"). The Sacristan grumbles disapproval and leaves. Angelotti ventures out and is recognized by his friend and fellow liberal Mario, who gives him food and hurries him back into the chapel as Tosca is heard calling outside. Forever suspicious, she jealously questions him, then prays, and reminds him of their rendezvous that evening at his villa ("Non la sospiri la nostra casetta?"). Suddenly recognizing the Marchesa Attavanti in the painting, she explodes with renewed suspicions, but he reassures her ("Qual' occhio al mondo"). When she has gone, Mario summons Angelotti from the chapel; a cannon signals that the police have discovered the escape, so the two flee to Mario's villa. Meanwhile, the Sacristan returns with choirboys who are to sing in a Te Deum that day. Their excitement is silenced by the entrance of Baron Scarpia, chief of the secret police, in search of Angelotti. When Tosca comes back to her lover, Scarpia shows her a fan with the Attavanti crest, which he has just found. Thinking Mario faithless, Tosca tearfully vows vengeance and leaves as the church fills with worshipers. Scarpia, sending his men to follow her to Angelotti, schemes to get the diva in his power ("Va, Tosca!").
ACT II
In the Farnese Palace, Scarpia anticipates the sadistic pleasure of bending Tosca to his will ("Ha più forte sapore"). The spy Spoletta arrives, not having found Angelotti; to placate the baron he brings in Mario, who is interrogated while Tosca is heard singing a cantata at a royal gala downstairs. She enters just as her lover is being taken to an adjoining room: his arrogant silence is to be broken under torture. Unnerved by Scarpia's questioning and the sound of Mario's screams, she reveals Angelotti's hiding place. Mario is carried in; realizing what has happened, he turns on Tosca, but the officer Sciarrone rushes in to announce that Napoleon has won the Battle of Marengo, a defeat for Scarpia's side. Mario shouts his defiance of tyranny ("Vittoria!") and is dragged to prison. Scarpia, resuming his supper, suggests that Tosca yield herself to him in exchange for her lover's life. Fighting off his embraces, she protests her fate to God, having dedicated her life to art and love ("Vissi d'arte"). Scarpia again insists, but Spoletta interrupts: faced with capture, Angelotti has killed himself. Tosca, forced to give in or lose her lover, agrees to Scarpia's proposition. The baron pretends to order a mock execution for the prisoner, after which he is to be freed; Spoletta leaves. No sooner has Scarpia written a safe-conduct for the lovers than Tosca snatches a knife from the table and kills him. Wrenching the document from his stiffening fingers and placing candles at his head and a crucifix on his chest, she slips from the room.
ACT III
The voice of a shepherd boy is heard as church bells toll the dawn. Mario awaits execution at the Castel Sant'Angelo; he bribes the jailer to convey a farewell note to Tosca. Writing it, overcome with memories of love, he gives way to despair ("E lucevan le stelle"). Suddenly Tosca runs in, filled with the story of her recent adventures. Mario caresses the hands that committed murder for his sake ("O dolci mani"), and the two hail their future. As the firing squad appears, the diva coaches Mario on how to fake his death convincingly; the soldiers fire and depart. Tosca urges Mario to hurry, but when he fails to move, she discovers that Scarpia's treachery has transcended the grave: the bullets were real. When Spoletta rushes in to arrest Tosca for Scarpia's murder, she cries to Scarpia to meet her before God, then leaps to her death.
— Courtesy of Opera News
The Making of Tosca
“In thirty years, or—if there is a god watching … —even before, Tosca, together with all the other operas of its type, will be an obscure and uncertain memory of a time of confusion in which music was subtracted, by the logic of history, from its own dominion, from its own laws, and from common sense … [and someone] will remember this about the third act of Tosca: … everything was there, except for music.”
— The Rivista teatrale italiana 1901 review of Tosca
Rarely do I feel the need to insert myself into an essay, but I feel I must defend both the artistic worth of Puccini’s Tosca and the honor of those of us who dearly love it. And I do so dearly love it! For me, it is opera writ large, the violent, passionate, sordid story a most magnificent vehicle for the richness and variety of Puccini’s savagely expressive score, a grand foray into the red meat, blood and guts of Italian opera. As a first opera, it can hardly be beat, clocking in at a lean, mean two and a half hours, chock full of emotions so big and raw that if the characters didn’t sing, they might explode! Tosca makes such sense as both an opera and a piece of theater. It may not be The Marriage of Figaro (what is?), but for sheer kick-ya-in-the-gut effectiveness, I’ll pay for Tosca any day.
Of all Puccini’s operas, none has garnered such contempt and open hostility as his “shabby little shocker,” Tosca. When it opened in 1900, it was almost universally reviled by critics “sickened by the cheapness and emptiness” of the score. But the public has roundly and consistently denied detractors with its enthusiastic response, immortalizing the fiery Tosca, her ardent lover and their demonic nemesis in the imaginations of all who see the opera.
It is not as if murders, unholy lust, and rape—not to mention sexual objectification—had not been seen in operas before. Don Giovanni, Il Trovatore, Rigoletto, and Lucia di Lammermoor, to name but a handful, certainly contain “objectionable material.” Love, lust and murder are, after all, the blood and sinew of opera. “What some people find disconcerting and others engrossing about Tosca is the diminution of aesthetic distance.” (William Ashbrook) The story is taut. There is little “spectacle”— what little there is serves as a backdrop to the action, highlighting Scarpia’s devout hypocrisy or Tosca’s ill-founded hope. No genteel poetry or subtle innuendo softens the impact of Scarpia’s depravity. He says, “What’s the difference? Spasms of hate or spasms of love,” a shocking sentiment for any time or place. The language throughout is blunt, the intentions clear—the outcome is the only surprise. This immediacy is what attracted Puccini to Victorien Sardou’s play. As he wrote his publisher, Ricordi, “in … Tosca I see the opera that I need: one without excessive proportion or a decorative spectacle … ”
Puccini had just produced his first full-scale opera, Edgar, and, as would become the story of his career, was eagerly in pursuit of a likely libretto. After seeing Sardou’s play La Tosca in 1889, Puccini wrote his publisher, Ricordi, begging him to secure the rights. However, it would be another seven years before Puccini found himself prepared to pick up his idea again, and by this time the playwright Sardou had sold the rights to Alberto Franchetti, another of Ricordi’s protégés. In fact, Illica (who had collaborated with Puccini on La Bohème, and had discouraged Puccini from pursuing La Tosca), had already fleshed out a libretto. Puccini learned of the arrangement, and, though still composing La Bohème, exerted his influence to secure the necessary permissions for himself.
The events surrounding his subsequent acquisition are somewhat shady.
Ricordi and Illica approached Franchetti and convinced him that the subject was far too violent and repugnant to become an opera. The political intrigue which served as the opera’s skeletal structure was far too involved to snare the contemporary audience. Wouldn’t it be better, they reasoned, to abandon the project? Evidently, this underhanded approach worked. Franchetti relinquished control of the rights. The next day, Puccini procured them. Franchetti subsequently told his children that he had turned over the project because Puccini “had more time.”
Puccini turned Illica’s libretto over to another old collaborator, Giacosa, for versification. As was typical of him, Giacosa objected to Illica’s scenario. There was too much plot, the structure was monotonous. He could not work without hearing some of Puccini’s music (Ricordi had forbidden any music to be played, lest some melody escape and give the public a preview of Puccini’s new masterpiece). Giacosa threatened to quit. He did quit. In short, the familiar shenanigans engendered by Puccini’s artistic process occurred. Nevertheless, by 1898 Puccini had a full libretto in his hands and set to work full tilt.
As always, Puccini was obsessed with authenticity. He traveled to Paris to meet Sardou and was baffled by the playwright’s complete lack of regard for accuracy. Appalled by Sardou’s ignorance of Rome’s topography, he wrote, “… Sardou wished the course of the Tiber to pass between St. Peter’s and the Castello!! I pointed out to him that flumen [a channel] flows past on the other side … and he, calm as a fish, answered, ‘Oh, that doesn’t matter!’” Disgusted by Sardou’s single-minded concern for dramatic effect, Puccini traveled to Rome in his quest for facts. He learned the pitch of St. Peter’s big bell; he plumbed his priest friends for the melodies of the plainsong chants used in the cathedral; he examined the uniforms of the Swiss Guard. Puccini insisted that Rome should recognize herself in his Tosca.
It was perhaps this commitment to “verismo,” or the “truth,” that helped to damn Tosca in the critics’ eyes. No discussion of Tosca is complete without at least touching upon the topic of verismo opera as a genre. Verismo opera grew out of a literary movement which tried to objectively portray societal ills—particularly poverty. In 1890, Mascagni crossed the operatic Rubicon with his verismo masterpiece Cavalleria Rusticana, and Italian opera was forever changed.
Verismo was a short-lived genre, lasting only about thirty years, but it was extremely controversial in musical circles. Most critics in the 19th century and today insist that music cannot be “real.” At most it can be descriptive (Musica descrittiva), imitating the sounds of natural phenomena, as Wagner and Verdi did with their storms or as Leoncavallo did by imitating birds in Pagliacci. By its nature, opera is un-real. People do not sing in real life, and when a composer sacrifices melody on the altar of realism by creating naturalistic dialogue, or using sounds in the orchestra (bells, for instance), he is “killing song.” One can appreciate the point. In Tosca, Puccini tempts us with the beginnings of myriad delicious snippets of melody, only to abandon them without development, leaving the audiences longing for more. That the sacrifice is amply compensated for by a music drama of exceeding swiftness and power hardly satisfied the proponents of the old school’s soaring Italian arias.
Giuseppe Samoggia, a prominent critic of Puccini’s day, worried that in an effort to create a realistic soundscape, “the music in new works has tended to eliminate itself … to cede its place to parlati and to the explosions of an orchestral artillery that [resolves] dramatic situations of every genre the same way: it is not rare to find entire scenes … in which song is lacking and orchestra fills the space …” So the critical objection to Puccini’s Tosca was part of a much larger contextual debate on the nature of music and opera, which in turn colored the vehemence of critical disdain heaped upon a particularly successful example of a reviled genre. In other words, it was less about Tosca itself than what Tosca might represent to the operatic art form.
It wasn’t just the music that many critics found disturbing, however. By the time he had completed the opera, Puccini had made some radical changes to the libretto Illica had originally conceived. He replaced Cavaradossi’s romantic paean to Art and Life with an agonizing lament to his lover, Tosca. For Cavaradossi facing death, only human love holds value. At the end, even art has lost its significance. This change caused many critics to accuse Puccini of “cheapening” the action. An alternate view is that, in fact, this is much more in keeping with Puccini’s own rather agnostic view of life. More disturbing than this to Ricordi was the lack of a “transcendental love duet” in the third act. He wrote the composer, accusing him of “reducing to…pygmies” his characters by having them engage in a “scrappy and modest melody” so fragmented that it would “cancel out the splendid impression of Act I.” Puccini wrote back, explaining that his writing here was thoughtful and calculated (as always) and that the fragmented duet was “intentional.” “This cannot be a uniform and tranquil situation as in other love duets,” Puccini reasoned. After all, Tosca has just presented herself before her condemned lover after murdering her would-be rapist. Her experience has been transformative, but she still must help Cavaradossi escape. In her preoccupied state and Cavaradossi’s horrified response to her revelation, there is little time for expansive musical lovemaking.
In the end, Puccini prevailed. The premiere occurred on January 14, 1900 in Rome at the Teatro Costanzi. While the opera was a success (7 curtain calls—three for Puccini alone), the proceedings were marred by a bomb threat 15 minutes before the curtain. During the opening chords, there was a disturbance in the audience, and the conductor bolted for his dressing room. Fortunately, the ruckus was not terrorists, but disgruntled patrons disturbed by latecomers. The maestro was persuaded to return and the opera proceeded uneventfully. As usual, the critics were critical and the audiences ecstatic. Tosca, the character conceived as a vehicle for Sarah Bernhardt, had been immortalized by Puccini. He had transformed a 19th century melodrama into the first modern tragedy of a new age. The swift and brutal violence, the complexity of the characters, and the lack of easy answers, communicate directly to the heart of the ambiguities burgeoning in the newly-turned 20th century. Puccini’s genius is that Tosca continues to speak to the ambiguities of the 21st.
— Alexis Hamilton
Giacomo Puccini (1858-1924)
 | Son of composer Michele Puccini and the fifth musician in his line, Giacomo Puccini was born in Lucca, Italy on December 22, 1858. The Puccinis were a fixture in provincial Lucca, having served as organists and choirmasters in St. Martin’s Cathedral for 100 years. The post was a hereditary one, and the eldest Puccini boy of each generation served the cathedral as a birthright. At 5 years old, Puccini lost his father. His musical training fell to his uncle, Fortunato Magi, who did not find him the most apt pupil. Puccini was often distracted; he skipped school and didn’t practice. His uncle found he had “neither the ear … nor the calling of a musician.” But he had an hereditary role to fill and began study with Carlo Angeloni under whom he made great progress. Before reaching his majority, Puccini played organ for the churches of Lucca and taught music to the town’s children. By this time, the boy determined that he would make his way in music. Before he was 18, Puccini entered a music competition with a hymn he had composed in honor of King Victor Emmanuel II. It was returned to Puccini with comments from the committee chair urging him to study his musical technique. Far from crushed, young Puccini was still resolved to pursue music and, undaunted by distance and poverty, he walked the 25 miles to Pisa to attend a performance of Verdi’s new masterpiece, Aïda. Aïda hit the aimless youth like a bolt of lightning. He would compose operas! Puccini renewed his musical studies with vigor. He soon exhausted his opportunities in Lucca and turned his sights to the Milan Conservatory. He received a study grant from Queen Margaret of Savoy and moved to Milan. Accepted to the conservatory, Puccini applied himself to his studies diligently enough to earn him the respect of his teachers: Antonio Bazzini, director of the Conservatory, and Amilcare Ponchielli, composition teacher and successful opera composer in his own right. These two invited young Puccini to their homes, introduced him to Milan’s musical and literary luminaries, and, most of all, encouraged and challenged him to write music. In 1883, at 25, Puccini graduated from the Conservatory. He had received critical praise for his final project and decided to enter a competition requiring a one-act opera. Ponchielli put Puccini in touch with Ferdinando Fontana, who had a libretto ready to be set. The composer liked the story, a fantastic tale of a faithless young man cursed by a coven of women who died abandoned by their lovers. He set it to music and submitted the finished opera, Le Villi, to the committee. Unfortunately, when the contest results were announced, no mention of Puccini’s piece was made. All was not lost, however. Puccini’s one-act found a champion in Giulio Ricordi and premiered in 1884 with a favorable response. Ricordi had a keen awareness of talent—even talent as raw as the inexperienced Puccini’s—and he wanted to foster the career of this promising youth. He bought the rights for Le Villi and commissioned another opera from the fledgling composer. This was quite an opportunity since Ricordi owned one of the great publishing companies and was, in fact, Verdi’s own publisher. Ricordi’s interest in Puccini flourished and bloomed into a life-long association between the publishing house and composer. Puccini started work on his new opera, Edgar, but distractions tore him from his work and slowed his composition. He had met his future wife, Elvira Gemignani. Unfortunately, she was still married to one of Puccini’s old classmates, and the lovers created a firestorm of controversy when Elvira chose to leave her husband and join Puccini in Milan. It took four years for Puccini to compose Edgar. The libretto didn’t speak to Puccini’s peculiar genius for “little souls” in extraordinary situations. The opera received tepid praise, but Ricordi saw improvement from Le Villi and pressed on with Puccini, commissioning another opera, the subject of which he left to the composer. Puccini decided upon Manon Lescaut, a risky topic, as it had already been set by Massenet with great success. Still, it touched Puccini, and he opened his version in 1893. Audience reception was wildly enthusiastic. Never again was Puccini to garner such accolades. Manon Lescaut gave him international notoriety and Ricordi’s faith was well-rewarded. Next came La Bohème, based upon Mürger’s novel, Scènes de la vie de bohème. Puccini was confident and sure of his dramatic sensibility, causing him to be maddeningly specific with his librettists, Illica and Giacosa. His specificity paid off. Bohème was a public triumph. Critics may have pooh-poohed it, but the public acclaim quickly swept it from theater to theater, country to country and continent to continent. It remains today, unequivocally, a masterpiece of the operatic stage. Puccini was on top. He ventured into verismo with Tosca, a vivid, disturbing, slightly sadistic opera. The public was enthralled. Seven curtain calls rocked the theater. Indeed, Tosca was an unqualified success despite the critics’ harping on the lurid subject matter. After Tosca came the much-anticipated Madama Butterfly. Every indication pointed to another victory for the composer, but the premiere garnered laughter during Puccini’s carefully constructed scenes, boos and jeers so raucous as to beg credulity. Many feel that Puccini’s rivals orchestrated the debacle. Humbled, Puccini re-worked his Butterfly, the opera he felt to be his masterpiece. Its second opening fared better than the first. Audiences roared their approval, giving Puccini twelve curtain calls. Butterfly was vindicated. While his professional life was a triumph, Puccini’s personal life kept descending into painful chaos. His wife, Elvira, continued to have violently jealous outbursts and she accused a maid in their home of seducing her husband. While Puccini had had myriad infidelities, their maid, Doria Manfredi, was not one of them. Elvira was adamant, however, and her outspoken accusations and denunciations led to the suicide of the persecuted Doria. Doria’s family sued Elvira and she was fined and sentenced to prison time. Puccini managed to avoid this humiliation by settling with the family. He did so, however, at great personal cost; he fell into a deep despair and his emotional state was such that he could no longer write. To flee his depression and his harpy wife, Puccini sailed for New York. Here he saw The Girl of the Golden West, a play by David Belasco, whose earlier work had inspired Madama Butterfly. Excited by the theatrical possibilities of the Wild West, Puccini approached Ricordi and got an agreement. The result, La fanciulla del West, was another phenomenal success. Following this, Puccini wrote La Rondine, which was also praised, but Puccini felt at odds with himself and the piece. He felt old. His friend and mentor, Ricordi, had died, and he had a less cordial relationship with Ricordi’s son. La Rondine felt as if he were repeating himself; World War I had engulfed the planet, and Puccini needed to change. He devoured other composer’s scores and kept abreast of the new musical language of the 20th century. He produced Il Trittico, a series of three one-act operas. The public accepted and liked it, but the critics were unnerved by the maestro’s new vocabulary and remained cool. The press felt Puccini couldn’t, at 61, write better than Bohème and Butterfly. Puccini knew better and restlessly cast about for a plot which would allow him to explore his brave new ideas more fully. He had absorbed Stravinsky, Webern, Berg, Schoenberg, and Debussy. Finally Turandot presented itself to him and he feverishly began work on what was to become his swan song. By now, though, Puccini was ill, complaining of throat pain and constant coughing. Eventually, he was diagnosed with throat cancer. He was very sick and feverishly working on Turandot’s final duet when he passed away in November 1924 after a debilitating treatment regimen. The world mourned his passing. La Scala cancelled performances, and a funeral procession in his honor was attended by thousands. Puccini’s legacy is the interweaving of music with drama so seamlessly that even as his most elegantly crafted music is played, the drama of the moment supercedes all else. He is a sublime communicator, reaching audiences across the years and continuing to arrest our hearts with a dramatic perfection wholly accessible and eternal.
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| Kara Shay Thomson — ToscaSopranoPortland Opera Debut |
 | Kara Shay Thomson — ToscaSopranoPortland Opera Debut Recognized for the natural beauty of her voice and her sense of dramatic insight, American soprano Kara Shay Thomson is proving herself a versatile and essential artist on the operatic and concert stages. As the Longboat Observer acclaimed of her Tosca, "'Vissi d'arte' began as a plaintive, quiet act of desperation and grew to an ardent, fervent plea that was both luminous and luxurious in sound, while maintaining the nuanced vocalism of a true diva. In fact, there wasn't a moment in the evening when Thomson came even close to over-singing or pushing. Her enormous voice resonated throughout the house yet she never abused her abilities and, by passionate restraint, was able to build a character who was, in every sense, a Great Woman." In 2011-12 Kara Shay Thomson returns to Sarasota Opera in the title role of Vanessa, debuts with Opera New Jersey in the title role of Tosca, joins the roster of Santa Fe Opera for its production of Tosca, and sings as soloist with the Peoria Symphony Orchestra in excerpts from Edward Joseph Collins' "Daughter of the South." Her engagements the 2010-11 season included the role of The Woman in Schoenberg's Erwartung in a return to New York City Opera, Santuzza in Cavalleria Rusticana with Kentucky Opera, the title role in Tosca with Opera on the James, and an appearance as soloist in Dvorák's Te Deum with the Cincinnati May Festival. She also appeared in recital with both the Cincinnati May Festival and Bethune-Cookman University, and in summer of 2011 she sang as soloist in Rachmaninoff's "The Bells" at Ravinia Festival under James Conlon. Recent engagements include Santuzza with Sarasota Opera; the title role in Tosca with Opera Delaware; a return to New York City Opera for Hugo Weisgall's critically acclaimed Esther; the role of Zemphira in Aleko with the Cincinnati May Festival; Donna Anna in Don Giovanni with Opera North; Tosca with Sarasota Opera, Central City Opera, and Opera North; Marietta in Die tote Stadt with Washington, DC's Summer Opera Theatre Company; the Countess in Le nozze di Figaro with Toledo Opera, Utah Festival Opera, and Pensacola Opera; the title role in Madama Butterfly with Colorado's Emerald City Opera; and Musetta in La bohème with Glimmerglass Opera. Her successful debut as Female Chorus in The Rape of Lucretia with Chicago Opera Theater was followed by her return as Miss Jessel in The Turn of the Screw and as Fortuna in Monteverdi's L'Incoronazione di Poppea. Other successes include Die tote Stadt with New York City Opera; Adina in L'elisir d'amore with Dicapo Opera Theatre; Mimi in La bohème with Emerald City Opera; Fiordiligi in Così fan tutte with Opera Domani; the title role in Iris with Teatro Grattacielo; Micaëla in a fully-staged production of Carmen with the Amherst Symphony; the title role in Regina with Bronx Opera; Violetta in a fully-staged production of La traviata with the Sioux City Symphony; Arminda in Mozart's La finta giardiniera at Amherst College; the Daughter in a touring production of Strawberry Fields with Glimmerglass Opera; First Lady in The Magic Flute with Opera Festival of New Jersey; Marietta in the world stage-premiere of Chadwick's The Padrone; Rosalinde in Die Fledermaus with Boston's Commonwealth Opera; and a staged interpretation of Schubert's Die Winterreise with the Jacques Thibaud Trio. Concert engagements have included Beethoven's Symphony No. 9 with the National Chorale at Lincoln Center's Avery Fisher Hall; Barber's Knoxville: Summer of 1915 with the Muncie Symphony; Mahler's Symphony No. 4 with the Green Bay Symphony; Mozart's Requiem with Albany Pro Musica; both Brahms' Requiem and Carmina Burana with the Lynchburg Symphony; Strauss' Vier letzte Lieder with the Amherst Symphony; a Wagner Concert with the Wagner Society of Washington, DC; an Opera Gala with the Green Bay Symphony; Violetta in La traviata (concert) at Wisconsin's Fox Cities Performing Arts Center; and her Carnegie Hall debut in Bach's Magnificat with the Manhattan Philharmonic. Ms. Thomson resides in Cincinnati, Ohio, and received her Graduate Diploma in Performance from the New England Conservatory of Music.
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| Roger Honeywell — CavaradossiTenorPreviously at Portland Opera: Madame Butterfly (2012); BIG NIGHT Concert (2011) |
 | Roger Honeywell — CavaradossiTenorPreviously at Portland Opera: Madame Butterfly (2012); BIG NIGHT Concert (2011) Canadian tenor Roger Honeywell has been acclaimed as a performer “with the right kind of heroic mettle to his voice” (Opera Now). 2010/11 season was highlighted by two world premieres; first the world premiere of Lillian Alling in the role of Jimmy by John Estacio and John Murrell, followed by the world premiere of The Inventor by Bramwell Tovey and John Murell in the role of Smoot. Additional operatic appearances included Narraboth in Salome with the Opéra de Montréal, and The Officer, as well as the cover of Bacchus, in Ariadne auf Naxos with the Canadian Opera Company. In the 2009/10 season Mr. Honeywell was seen as Danilo in The Merry Widow with the Chicago Lyric Opera, and with Santa Fe Opera in Lewis Spratlan’s Pulitzer Prize winning Life Is a Dream. Other performances of note included Don Jose in Carmen with the Pittsburgh Opera, and as Pinkerton in Madame Butterfly and also in Tan Dun’s critically acclaimed contemporary opera Tea, both with the Opera Philadelphia, and La Boheme with Opera Ontario. Recent career highlights include the role of James Nolan in Doctor Atomic with the Lyric Opera of Chicago, which he then reprised with the Metropolitan Opera for his debut there in 2008, his role debut of Cavaradosi in Tosca with the Florida Grand Opera, Troilus in Troilus and Cressida with the Opera Theatre of St. Louis, the American premier of Tan Dun’s Tea a mirror of Soul with Santa Fe Opera, and the World premier of Ricky Ian Gordon’s The Grapes of Wrath at the Minnesota Opera and Utah Symphony and Opera, Macduff in Macbeth with the Opéra de Montréal, his debut with the Fort Worth Opera as Don Jose in Carmen, and a world premiere of Paul Moravec’s The Letter with the Santa Fe Opera. He has also made role debuts of Erik in the Flying Dutchman for Utah Opera and Don Jose in Carmen with Opera Calgary to great critical acclaim, as well as Rodolfo in La Boheme for the Opera Company of Philadelphia and Dick Johnson in La Fanciulla del West for the Other notable performances include the role of Laca in a new production of Jenufa by Jonathan Miller for the Glimmerglass Opera and a new production of Daphne in the role of Leukippos at the New York City Opera, Pinkerton in a new production of Madama Butterfly by Jun Kaneko for the Omaha Opera, and the World premier of Margaret Garner for Michigan Opera, Cincinnati Opera and the Opera Company of Philadelphia. After a career as an actor in Canada working at many of the country’s foremost companies including 5 season with Shaw Festival and 5 seasons with the Stratford Shakespearean Festival of Canada, Mr Honeywell joined the Canadian Opera Company’s young artist program where he was heard in the title role of Giulio Cesare by Antonio Sartario, and Narraboth in Salome. He then joined the Lyric Opera of Chicago’s Ryan Center where he sang the role of Frederick in The Pirates of Penzance with Elizabeth Futral. He is a graduate of the Ryerson Theatre school in Toronto and has received numerous awards, among which are a Dora Mavor Moore award for his role of Arnaud de Tilh in The House of Martin Guerre, a Maureen Forrester Award and a Tyrone Guthrie Award from the Stratford Festival. In addition to his opera performances Mr. Honeywell has performed concert work with The Montreal Symphony, Toronto Symphony, Albany Symphony, Baltimore Symphony Orchestra, Calgary Philharmonic, Nashville Symphony Orchestra and the Vancouver Symphony Orchestra.
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| Matthew Grills — SpolettaTenorPortland Opera Resident Artist |
 | Matthew Grills — SpolettaTenorPortland Opera Resident Artist
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| André Chiang — SciarroneBaritonePortland Opera Studio Artist |
 | André Chiang — SciarroneBaritonePortland Opera Studio Artist |
| Mark Schnaible — ScarpiaBass BaritonePortland Opera Debut |
 | Mark Schnaible — ScarpiaBass BaritonePortland Opera Debut Described by Das Opernglas as “a strong, rich and warm-colored voice with assured style,” Mark Schnaible sings his first performances of Der Wanderer in Siegfried in a return to Den Nye Opera and returns to Utah Opera for Pizarro in Fidelio in the 2011-12 season. He also sings Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 with Edo de Waart conducting the Hong Kong Philharmonic. Last season, he returned to Polish National Opera to reprise Orest in Elektra, sang Four Villains in Les contes d’Hoffmann and with Den Nye Opera, and joined the Memphis Symphony Orchestra for Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9.
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| Nicholas Nelson — AngelottiBass BaritonePortland Opera Resident Artist Previously at Portland Opera: 2nd Officer / Sailor / Water / Slave Driver / Crook, Candide (2012); Pope Urban VIII/ Cardinal Barberini/ Simplicio, Galileo Galilei (2012); Commissioner, Madame Butterfly (2012)... |
 | Nicholas Nelson — AngelottiBass BaritonePortland Opera Resident Artist |
| Anton Belov — JailerBass BaritonePortland Opera Debut |
 | Anton Belov — JailerBaritonePortland Opera Debut Since winning the Young Concert Artists International Auditions in 2002, baritone Anton Belov has expanded his career to reach major opera houses and concert halls across the United States. "Rich and mellifluous" described The New York Times his voice, and The Washington Post hailed his "voluminous sound, appealing stage presence and a tone of rich vibrancy that remained consistent at all dynamic levels," while The New York Sun was impressed with his "authority – technical, musical, dramatic – that was almost frightening." Opera News praised his "great emotional honesty; singing straight from the heart" and the Philadelphia Inquirer concludes that Belov "has the voice of an emerging star." In 2010/11, Belov returned to Boston Lyric Opera as Angelotti and as cover of Scarpia in Tosca, before singing Messiah with the New Bedford Symphony and Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 with the Bozeman Symphony. Highlights of the 2009/10 season included the title role of Eugene Onegin with Anchorage Opera, Escamillo in Carmen at Amherst College and Rachmaninoff’s The Bells with Colorado Symphony. 2008/09 brought Belov’s return to the Anchorage Opera as Escamillo in Carmen before appearing in Shostakovich’s The Nose with Opera Boston, Rimsky-Korsakov’s Tsar’s Bride with Eve Queler’s Opera Orchestra of New York and portraying the title role in a staged production of Le nozze di Figaro with the Helena Symphony. He also performed Beethoven’s Symphony No. 9 with the Kalamazoo and Hartford symphonies and joined the annual Johnstown Symphony gala in a program of operatic arias. Engagements for 2007/08 included the Boston premiere of Oswaldo Golijov’s Ainadamar with Opera Boston, his portrayal of Count di Luna in Il trovatore with Anchorage Opera, excerpts from Gian Carlo Menotti’s Consul at Chicago Chamber Opera and Puccini’s Messa di Gloria with the Pioneer Valley Symphony. He also sang Messiah at Avery Fisher Hall with the Peniel Concert Choir and gave a recital under the auspices of New York Festival of Songs. Belov’s other operatic performances include the title role in Delaware Opera’s production of Don Giovanni, Masetto with Boston Baroque, John Sorel in The Consul (Menotti) with Opera Boston and Chamber Opera of Chicago, Count Almaviva in Le nozze di Figaro and Ping in Turandot with the New Jersey Opera Theater. Anton Belov is the first-place winner of eight vocal competitions including the George London Competition, Licia Albanese-Puccini Foundation International Competition, and the Metropolitan Opera National Council Auditions (Eastern Regional Winner) as well as the second-place winner of the Classical Singer Magazine Competition. As the winner of Young Concert Artists International Auditions, Belov has appeared in over 40 recitals throughout the United States. A native of Moscow, Anton Belov holds a Bachelor of Music Degree from The New England Conservatory, an Artist’s Diploma and a Master of Music Degree from The Juilliard School. A specialist in Russian lyric diction, he is the author of Russian Opera Libretti in Word-to-Word Translation and IPA Transcription and the Anthology of Russian Arias (Leyerle Publications 2004-06). |
| Thomas Hammons — SacristanBass BaritonePortland Opera Debut |
 | Thomas Hammons — SacristanBass BaritonePortland Opera Debut Bass-baritone Thomas Hammons has been acclaimed throughout the United States, Canada, and across Europe, for the depth and richness of his portrayals and the strength and beauty of his singing. A versatile singing actor, Mr. Hammons has an active repertoire of over 40 roles and is equally at home in the classic basso buffo repertoire and in the world of modern music theater. Over the past two seasons, Mr. Hammons made his Lyric Opera of Chicago debut as Schigolch in Lulu; performed Benoit/Alcindoro in La Bohème, Maharajah in Menotti’s The Last Savage, Dansker in Billy Budd, and Dulcamara in L’Elisir d’Amore at the Santa Fe Opera; reprised the role of Henry Kissinger in Nixon in China with the Vancouver Opera, Canadian Opera Company, Opera Colorado, and in concert with the Phoenix Symphony; performed Benoit/Alcindoro in La Bohème and Bartolo in Il Barbiere di Siviglia with Opera Colorado; performed Bartolo in Il Barbiere di Siviglia with Opera Cleveland; performed Benoit/Alcindoro in La Bohème and Hermann Ortel in Der Meistersinger with the Cincinnati Opera; presented a recital with the Artist Series of Sarasota; and returned to the Metropolitan Opera for Lulu, Le Nozze di Figaro and La Bohème. In the 2011-2012 season, engagements include Bartolo in Il Barbiere di Siviglia at the Vancouver Opera, Bartolo in Le Nozze di Figaro with Opera Colorado, Baron Zeta in The Merry Widow with Shreveport Opera, Simone in Gianni Schicchi at Cincinnati Opera, and Sacristan in Tosca with Portland Opera. Mr. Hammons created the role of Henry Kissinger in the world premiere of Nixon in China by John Adams for the Houston Grand Opera in 1987. His iconic portrayal of Kissinger was subsequently seen in Amsterdam, Paris, Frankfurt and Los Angeles, along with more recent revivals at the Cincinnati Opera, Opera Colorado, Canadian Opera Company, and Vancouver Opera. His association with John Adams has continued with his participation in the inaugural performances of The Death of Klinghoffer at the Opera de la Monnaie, Brussels. Mr. Hammons’ chilling portrayal of the terrorist Rambo has since been seen and heard in Lyons, Vienna, San Francisco and at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. His creations of these two seminal works can be heard on the Nonesuch recordings of Nixon in China and The Death of Klinghoffer. Mr. Hammons made his debut at The Metropolitan Opera as the Sacristan in Tosca during the 1996-97 Season, and took part in the premiere of Jonathan Miller’s acclaimed production of Le Nozze di Figaro. He has returned to the MET every season thereafter for numerous productions. Additional recent noted performances include L’Elisir d’Amore with L’Opera de Montreal; a concert version of La Bohème at The Hollywood Bowl under the baton of John Mauceri; a tour of Die Fledermaus with Seiji Ozawa in Japan; Manon, Le Nozze di Figaro, Regina and La Bohème with The Atlanta Opera; Tosca and Il Barbiere di Siviglia with The Cincinnati Opera; Le Nozze di Figaro and L’Elisir d’Amore with Michigan Opera; La Bohème and Il Barbiere di Siviglia with the former Opera Pacific; as well as the role of Dr. Bartolo in Il Barbiere di Siviglia at Chautauqua Opera and L’Opera de Montreal. He has sung Dr. Bartolo in Le Nozze di Figaro at Barcelona’s famed Teatro Liceu, and Sulpice in La Fille du Régiment and Tosca with L’Opera de Montreal. Mr. Hammons is a graduate of the Cincinnati College-Conservatory of Music where he studied with famed bass Italo Tajo. He began his career as an Apprentice Artist at Santa Fe Opera in The Duchess of Malfi. |
| Joseph Colaneri — ConductorPreviously at Portland Opera: Carmen (2007); Norma (2007); Madame Butterfly (2005) Conductor of opera, oratorio and symphonic works, and educator, Joseph Colaneri’s achievements are outstanding in each of the areas in his multi-faceted career... |
 | Joseph Colaneri — ConductorPreviously at Portland Opera: Carmen (2007); Norma (2007); Madame Butterfly (2005) Conductor of opera, oratorio and symphonic works, and educator, Joseph Colaneri’s achievements are outstanding in each of the areas in his multi-faceted career. Now in his fourteenth season as a member of the conducting roster of the Metropolitan Opera, Maestro Colaneri concurrently serves as Artistic Director of Opera at Mannes College The New School for Music in New York. |
| David KneussDirectorPortland Opera Debut David Kneuss is Executive Stage Director of the Metropolitan Opera and has directed for the Metropolitan Opera and the opera companies of the London’s English National Opera, San Francisco... |
| David KneussDirectorPortland Opera Debut David Kneuss is Executive Stage Director of the Metropolitan Opera and has directed for the Metropolitan Opera and the opera companies of the London’s English National Opera, San Francisco, Washington, D.C., Boston, Bonn, Germany and the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino in Florence, Italy. In collaboration with Seiji Ozawa, he has directed more than thirty productions in Japan and China.
Also with Mo. Ozawa, David Kneuss staged numerous opera productions for the Boston Symphony Orchestra and Japan’s Saito Kinen Festival. His Peter Grimes, for the Maggio Musicale Fiorentino and the Saito Kinen Festival, began as a production at Tanglewood to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the American premiere. This event was featured in a film entitled A Tale of Tanglewood. Most recently, Mr. Kneuss directed The Queen of Spades also for Saito Kinen.
Having a career in opera which has spanned over three decades, David is currently fulfilling a Residency with Boston University’s College of Fine Arts’ Opera Institute and is preparing for further collaborations in Japan with Mo. Ozawa and other Japanese opera companies.
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TOSCA Production Montage
The footage in this video was captured during a dress rehearsal.
Opera Insights: TOSCA
Explore TOSCA with our Resident Historian & Lecturer Robert Kingston.
Is TOSCA a good first opera?
How does TOSCA compare to Puccini's other operas?
Who were some of the great interpreters of the role of TOSCA?
Why does Puccini make his sopranos suffer so much?
How important is the city of Rome in the opera Tosca?
Tosca: what does the word 'verismo' mean?
You can learn more about TOSCA at Robert Kingston's Opera Insights lectures, held one hour prior to each production in the first balcony.
Listen to the Music
Christopher Mattaliano introduces TOSCASorry, flash is not available.
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Musical excerpts used courtesy of EMI Classics.
Schedule
Feb 1, 2013
Friday 7:30 pm
Friday 7:30 pm
Feb 3, 2013
Sunday 2:00 pm
Sunday 2:00 pm
Feb 7, 2013
Thursday 7:30 pm
Thursday 7:30 pm
Feb 9, 2013
Saturday 7:30 pm
Saturday 7:30 pm