Reviews
these are ordered chronologically by performance. (top to bottom – recent to past)
The stand-out performance of the evening was countertenor Nicholas Tamagna’s Witch. To call Tamagna just a countertenor does not do justice to his supple and pliant voice; he has the notes, agility, and pristine intonation of a Golden Age coloratura. Of all the evening’s singers, he moved with the most intention, purpose, and sense of character. Bedecked in a long, stringy blonde wig, and a zingara-esque skirt and wrap, crowned with a heavily stated beard and mustache, Tamagna was as Shakespearean and gender queer as Humperdinck’s Witch has ever been. The Witch is never a sympathetic character, but Tamagna was simply repulsive, and that’s a good thing!
Mr. Griffith had a sensitive countertenor soloist in Nicholas Tamagna.
Nicholas Tamagna used his flexible and mellow countertenor as la Natura and Pane (Pan) and brought much mirth and mayhem in his singing of “Numi Selvatici” signaling his oft naughty behavior.
Nicholas Tamagna, a tall, slim countertenor with a heavyweight voice up to an easy, ringing high A, made an effectively seething, sneering and, later, enchained Farnace. Black leather jeans and a sleeveless black vest clued us to his wicked character; he scowled and prowled a lot, too. He sang all evening with seamless power and beauty with some especially fine passagework.
Once again I happily praise that shiny-panted countertenor Nicholas Tamagna. As Farnace, the brat prince who pursues the absent king’s main squeeze and also conspires against the king, Mr. Tamagna gave us beautifully nuanced singing and committed acting…My admiration for this man’s singing and acting continues to grow.
“The countertenor Nicholas Tamagna, as the worse son, Farnace, was charismatic, vibrant in recitative and with full, rounded tone in his arias. He grew in force and stability…and he understood the most important thing about this repertory: that ornamentation serves a dramatic purpose.”
Nicholas Tamagna was a standout as the enthusiastically villainous Farnace. “Venga pur, minacci e frema” may have been my favorite of his arias, but he gave them all with nuance and fervor (…while wearing leather pants. I’m sorry, but a costume so striking demands to be mentioned.)
The most intriguing singer in the production was Nicholas Tamagna as Ruggiero. This role usually proves too high for a countertenor, but Tamagna delivered the role without a hitch. His high notes were strong and never strained, his voice resonating beautifully throughout the entire show. Considering his success in this role, his upcoming engagements, and his recent award as the male winner of The Nico Castel International Master Singer Competition, Nicholas Tamagna is most definitely the next big thing in the countertenor world.
The countertenor in the shiny pants, Nicholas Tamagna, was one of the highlights of the evening, and he sang two arias and a duet beautifully… As Ruggiero, the knight who has been shipwrecked on Alcina’s island and fallen under her spell, Mr. Tamagno [sic] sang beautifully and acted Ruggiero’s many emotions, from the most base and vulgar lust to passionate love for Alcina while under her spell to deep remorse when he comes to his senses.
“Ruggiero, composed for a castrato and usually sung by a mezzo or a tenor, was here performed by male alto Nicholas Tamagna. A slim, handsome figure and an enthusiastic actor, Tamagna possesses a voice that couldn’t resemble a sexless choirboy’s less. He fills the theater with sound like a powerhouse Verdi mezzo (I’ve heard him before, as the first ever male Ulrico [sic] in Ballo in Maschera), yet he makes a moving thing of the tender phrases of the opera’s most famous aria, “Verdi prate.” [sic] (This made me the sadder that the director cut his “Mio bel tesoro,” an equally gorgeous such number.)”
“The first evening countertenor Nicholas Tamagna took the role of Orpheus and, of all the leads, he was the most successful in capturing the essence of Orpheus: a poet who, in attempting to penetrate the mysteries of life, death, rebirth, discovers the meaning and power of poetry and song, and the destructiveness of uncontrolled human emotions. Tamagna was exquisite, combining perfect tonal quality with substantial power. His voice soared with piercing [sic] sadness and soothed with a silky beauty, giving a glimpse, perhaps, of why castrati voices became the divos of the Baroque era.”
“On opening night, and again tonight, countertenor Nicholas Tamgna sings the role of Orpheus. Tamagna’s impressive filigrees bring weight and substance to a role that can seem a touch comical to modern ears.”
“As Cesare, countertenor Nicholas Tamagna handled his complex runs and vocal ornaments fluently through all eight of his arias.”
“…It is even more impressive that, with Giulio Cesare, Bel Cantanti is highlighting a young American countertenor as Cesare, Nicholas Tamagna, who looks to be one of the most remarkable performers in his vocal range to emerge over the last few decades. Tamagna, who according to his biography only made his professional debut earlier this year, has sung both the typical neophyte’s range of the new and the unusual (including a thoroughly demented Ulrica in stage and concert versions – this reviewer can attest on personal experience to Tamagna’s ability to handle that role’s vocal range without compromise or strain), displays a countertenor voice unlike any other. In general terms, one can divide countertenors into those who sing with a certain clean purity of sound and those who sacrifice purity (or just attain it) to an almost shrill and more ‘dramatic’ sound. My current favorites in this voice type are Andreas Scholl, Lawrence Zazzo and the currently less-active Michael Chance, but no matter what the theatrical and musical instincts, and however beautiful the sound (in the case of Scholl), the voices themselves necessarily tend to the monochromatic and usually have difficulty blending with other voice types, which have much greater resonance. To these ears, in fact, a countertenor in opera usually pales after a short period – the tonal palette is too limited and the dynamic range constricted. Tamagna’s sound can be described as that of a sexy, masculine, English alto – it is richly colored, deep in texture, and capable of great dynamic range. What came to mind on more than one occasion on Saturday night was the tonal palette of such singers as Kathleen Ferrier (whose actual range I believe Tamagna exceeds) and Dame Janet Baker. In fact, Tamagna’s countertenor sound is so substantial that although his occasional descents into chest voice show a necessary difference in resonance and vocal weight, there is no perceptible change in vocal color, and no weakness in sound in the notes just about the chest, where countertenors are often at their most vulnerable. What one gets is a masculine countertenor sound, but with all the coloratura flexibility and ‘HIP-ness’ of the voice type. Not for a moment did Tamagna’s voice grate, and in Cesare’s great set piece, “Va tacito e nascosto”, the depth of sound was simply thrilling, and matched entirely the mood of the aria; in his duet with Cleopatra, “Caro/Bella”, Tamagna’s sound had all the presence and body of his colleague, and there was no need to suspend disbelief that this was a male Cesare hot in love with his Cleopatra.”
“Then out came Ulrica — you know — the fortune teller — the Marian Anderson/Ewa Podles role. Already there had been intimations of surprise, in references in the first scene, to a “magician” named “Ulrico.” (Why not just Ulrich?) I seized the program and, staggered, read the name: Nicholas Tamagna… Mr. Tamagna, a countertenor who usually sings roles like Orfeo (last April at the Brooklyn Rep, sorry I missed it) and Handel’s Cesare (in D.C. in the fall), earned his Book of World Records (and Wikipedia) moment as the first man ever to sing this diehard mezzo role in a full performance of Verdi’s opera. A slim figure with a shaven head and satanic contact lenses, he sang it all — in a room of considerable size, remember — in a seamless top-to-bottom alto with no hootiness, no doubtful support, loud as anyone (and everyone) else in a healthy cast, the phrases as beautiful as their eldritch import allowed. (Verdi didn’t want his witches to sound too beautiful, you know.) It was a totally astonishing performance, and in five minutes conquered what reservations I had — and I’m a stickler for certain traditions. Tamagna’s has an alto in which I wished to bask.
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