Benjamin Britten on Camera

The Ballet de l'Opera National de Paris mounted this production of the late Pina Bausch's dance-opera Orpheus und Eurydike, which Bausch had adapted from composer Christoph Willibald-Gluck and Ranieri de' Calzabigi's 1762 opera Orfeo ed Euridice. As the title suggests, it takes its basic narrative from the myth of Orpheus, and his courageous but ill-fated attempt to rescue his lover Eurydice (also known as Eurydike) from the jaws of the underworld. This particular production finds Yann Bridard dancing as Orpheus and Marie-Agnès Gillot dancing as Eurydike , with mezzo-soprano Maria-Riccarda Wesseling accompanying Bridard and soprano Julia Kleiter accompanying Wesseling. Pina Bausch did the choreography and stage direction, while Rolf Borzik designed the sets, costumes and lighting. The Balthasar-Neumann Ensemble & Choir, under the direction of Thomas Hengelbrock, lend musical accompaniment.

A 1985 performance of Luchino Visconti's 1958 staging for the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden. Bernard Haitink memorably directs a superb cast that includes Ileana Cotrubas at the height of her powers and Luis Lima, unequalled in his tortured introspection, in the title role. (5-act version, sung in Italian)

Donizetti’s timeless comedy shines in Otto Schenk’s enchanting production, conducted by James Levine and featuring a remarkable cast. The incomparable Anna Netrebko is Norina, the young widow beloved by Ernesto (a suave Matthew Polenzani), who is about to be disinherited by his miserly uncle, Don Pasquale (John Del Carlo). It takes the clever scheming of Dr. Malatesta (Mariusz Kwiecien) to set things right and to teach the old curmudgeon a lesson—fits of temper, mistaken identities, and all kinds of comic confusion included.

IL CAMPANELLO DI NOTTE, Farce in one act by Gaetano Donizetti, is set in Naples. Don Annibale Pistacchio, an old apothecary, have just married the young Serafina. Enrico, former lover of Serafina, interrupts constantly the wedding night showing on several disguises and calling at Pistacchio's drugstore by ringing the night bell, asking the unfortunate groom a preposterous list of prescriptions.

A short opera about the assassination of poet and dramatist Federico García Lorca at the hands of Nationalist forces at the beginning of the Spanish Civil War.

The gypsy Azucena (Fiorenza Cossotto) takes revenge for her mother who was accused of putting a curse on one of the old Count di Luna's two sons: she decides to abduct the younger child and throw it in the flames. But when she is about to carry out this fatal act, the gypsy sacrifices her own child and keeps the old Count’s son, whom she names Manrico (IL TROVATORE, Plácido Domingo). Later, as adults, the troubadour Manrico and the Count di Luna’s elder son (Piero Cappucilli) do not know each other, but become rivals for the beautiful Leonora (Raina Kabaivanska). Manrico succeeds in winning the young woman’s heart, and she sacrifices herself for him, deceiving the Count’s son. Mad with jealousy, the latter orders the execution of the troubadour in front of his mother. Azucena reveals to him that Manrico was his brother. This legendary performance of Giuseppe Verdi's most successful opera was recorded at the Vienna State Opera under the baton of Herbert von Karajan.

Donald Runnicles directs the San Francisco Opera in this lavish production of Giacomo Puccini’s final masterpiece, which was left unfinished upon his death and was later completed by Franco Alfano. Declaring himself a suitor of the beautiful Princess Turandot (Eva Marton), the son of a conquered king (Michael Sylvester) must correctly answer three troublesome riddles. According to tradition, if he fails, it will mean his death.

Madcap physical comedy and impeccable coloratura come together for Natalie Dessay’s indelible portrayal of the feisty tomboy raised by a regiment of French soldiers. Juan Diego Flórez is the young Swiss villager who conquers her heart—and a slew of high Cs. Also featuring uproarious performances by Felicity Palmer and Alessandro Corbelli, as well as a cameo by Tony Award winner Marian Seldes, this laugh-out-loud production was a runaway hit that left audiences exhilarated.

La traviata in Paris is a film-opera of Giuseppe Verdi's La traviata filmed live on television and worldwide, directed by Giuseppe Patroni Griffi, conceived and produced by Andrea Andermann in 2000. A Traviata that takes place live, with a television reporter who, amid the events of the day that took place in France on June 3, 2000, connects live to the scene of the action but at the time exactly a century earlier, in the Paris of June 3, 1900 (the setting of the opera is thus postdated from the original, which was conceived for the 1850s).

Tosca is a melodrama of love, betrayal and death set in the revolutionary unrest of 1800. The story concerns the opera singer Floria Tosca who tries to save her lover, the painter Mario Cavaradossi, from the brutal chief of police, Scarpia. Through-composed and expertly orchestrated it contains some of Puccini’s best-known lyrical arias and remains one of his most performed operas. In this 2022 production, an eminent cast is directed by the acclaimed Australian director Barrie Kosky – ‘the Amsterdam audience was completely swept off its feet by Kosky’s stunning production’ (Opera News).

The hero of this admirably complete August 2013 Guillaume Tell from Pesaro is homegrown maestro Michele Mariotti. The inimitable overture is (mercifully) unstaged and terrifically played, with splendid cello and flute solos: the fine standard never flags. Rossini’s extraordinary 1829 score audibly presages Meyerbeer, Berlioz, Glinka, Verdi and Wagner, among many others. Graham Vick’s direction privileges class conflict, with a clenched fist on the red-and-white forecurtain. The Edwardian costumes place Austrians in white evening garb; the black-clad Swiss polish the floor while the rulers savor a filming (much of that to follow) — the fisherman Ruodi, in a boat with a blonde and fake scenery, with Tell and his family providing tech support. Vick deploys geographical and historical kitsch liberally but not (always) pointlessly. Ron Howell’s pretentious, mannered choreography, however, beggars belief.