We were warned not to talk to Carlos Kleiber
OperaStaff of the Metropolitan Opera have posted an interview with Joan Dornemann, the company’s first woman prompter, who has received a Lifetime Achievement Award from the National Opera Association.
Joan shares some precious memories:
Fabulous conductors spill out ideas that you haven’t thought of, which can add to your interpretation and to your perceptions. They might be looking for a sound or a rhythm that deepens one’s own interpretation. Carlos Kleiber was rehearsing Bohème at the MET, and we were warned not to talk to him because he was so important. Everyone was so in awe of him that they had the orchestra rehearsal in the pit. After a while he asked shyly why nobody was talking to him. He rehearsed a few moments of the opera and lingered on Mimi’s death chord. Once he got the result he was looking for, he taught them that every bit of the music was important: the pizzicato, the staccato, the legato. Everybody felt as if we were on holy ground, proud to be part of that production. For the rest of my life, I will carry that memory with me.
Prompting was fun and an adventure every night. I loved the intensity of it, staying focused, paying careful attention, trying to figure out what could go wrong next, watching out for singers who have insecure spots, keeping ensembles together. Prompters are like your mommy. Sherrill Milnes always said: “Joan, I look at you smiling at me and I breathe better.” Lots of people said that they knew I was there for them, they were not alone, and that it gave them confidence and they were doing better thanks to it. You put energy in your face and encourage them. We were in this together. I believe that you can initiate energy into other people. It takes a lot out of you, but it’s nice to know that I can do that and save something or help somebody who loses concentration or is not feeling well. One time, Dolora Zajick was on stage in Aida. Burning candles were about to set fire to her. I telephoned backstage and the stagehands came out dressed like soldiers and put out the fire with extinguishers. She was so focused that she didn’t even notice anything. After the show, Dolora came to me and asked: “What was that noise during my aria?”
Read on here
I heard Kleiber conduct Boheme a number of times. There was always something you hadn’t noticed before. Some new treasure he’d lifted to the surface.
Kleiber, Pavarotti & Freni – NEVER has the Met had a comparable Boheme, or a comparable performance – of anything! After that, i stopped going to Boheme’s – because that level will never be reached again.
Same Boheme problem, since Kleiber/Pavarotti/Freni, Vienna 1985.
Then they could do us all a favor by giving the piece a five-year rest.
And yet none of the run was recorded for posterity. What I wouldn’t give to be able to hear one of those performances again! Did Kleiber not want a broadcast or telecast for some reason? Or was it just poor planning by the Met?
Kleiber routinely didn’t consent to recordings or releases thereof.
A 1979 Boheme at La Scala was televised. Typically, Kleiber didn’t authorize a release. It is available on unauthorized DVDs, in lousy sound quality.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNiRgNSRUgo
Here is a teaser: Quando m’en vo, sung by Lucia Popp. Good luck keeping your eyes dry.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAbLbBieexA
One of the best articles carried by SD. I learnt a great deal about prompting and the lady herself comes across as quite wonderful.
Oh yes, those final chords of La Boheme, under Carlos Kleiber… 38 years on I think I still hear them in my memory. There is a Carlos Kleiber cult for a reason (even though arguably it’s over the top).
I’m always skeptical of cult figures, especially those with an aura from their private life or personality. I listen to those people with the question of ‘are they really that good?’ And in case of Carlos Kleiber the answer is usually a big YES…
Great article about an amazing woman!
“Everyone was so in awe of him that they had the orchestra rehearsal in the pit.”
A lovely and telling detail.
He was seen as “difficult” though also charming and engaging. However, though he must have lacked self-awareness (wondering why no one was lacking to him etc), were not the likes of the Met compounding the issues by treating him quite so exceptionally, wrapping him in cotton wool etc?
A very interesting read, thank you.
We now know the history of the woman who (if anyone does) will know if any recordings exist of Kleiber rehearsing the Met orchestra (in English)…
This, and the information that he was given the pit to conduct orchestra rehearsals, is also instructive in this regard.
The pit camera might well have been on.
He also rehearsed the orchestra in the pit at Covent Garden, at least the one time I worked with him. Since the opera was Otello, it gave him the advantage of organizing the placement of the offstage brass without wasting the singers’ time at later rehearsals. My impression at that time was that he spoke relatively little to the orchestra, plus or minus one or two nice visual images for specific colors. Since he wasn’t using his own orchestral parts (I checked) it was clear that the biggest part of the transformation he wrought on the orchestra was achieved through body language. Remarkable. And, yes, there was no need to be afraid of him. His occasional displays of impatience were justified, and he was unfailingly charming, even to this young inexperienced Music Staff member.
I believe his practice was to ask for the orchestral parts to be marked (by the library staff), according to his own requirements, leaving his own score untouched.
I was in the audience for one of Kleiber’s Otellos (with Domingo.) It was the only time I ever attended one of his performances but I have been boring everyone about it ever since.
Put simply, nothing has ever come remotely close as a live performance. Absolutely electrifying.
I am as in the Bedford Box for the first night of that production. I sat next to Eva Turner, who was ecstatic. In the last act, an artist sketch the stage from behind my shoulder. I was, I think, 9 years old. I remember crying people lining Floral Street before the performance, offering handfuls of £50 for a ticket. I think Capital Radio recorded that performance. I seem to remember my parents having a reel to reel of it.
Oh yes, it exists – it is quite extraordinary.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bvmQA5j-iEA
This is good to know!