PERSPECTIVE — The music season is ending in South America, and this year has seen the emergence of new musical leadership in Buenos Aires, Argentina, and Santiago, Chile. The latter city has also seen the opening of a new concert hall. It’s a fascinating time to visit.
La traviata, Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires
Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires’ fabled temple of opera and concert music, chose a new production of La traviata as its operatic finale, with three principal casts, two conductors, and nine sold-out performances.
Emilio Sagi’s production, seen opening night Nov. 18, is relatively conservative and safe, despite the updating to Paris in the 1960s, “the era of the great fashion designers,” as he put it. Daniel Bianco’s sets are spare and elegant, with everything taking place in a vast white room. Stylish, sumptuous costumes by Renata Schussheim are black and white for Violetta’s party and red for Flora’s, which Sagi intended to be “more vulgar.” The prelude to Act 1 is staged with maids dressing a frail Violetta, who bursts to life when the act begins.
Sagi elicited compelling dramatic performances from his singers in this most emotional of Verdi’s operas, while his exaggerated view of the characters made for a less-nuanced melodrama. His eccentric perspective, revealed in multiple interviews prior to opening night, is built on the idea that Violetta, although she’s a prostitute, is “pure and noble…kind and dignified,” while Germont, “the catalyst, is a manipulator,” and Alfredo is ultimately rather shallow and one-dimensional, limited by his upbringing. Flora is “less elegant… a show-off.” Sagi sees Violetta as the “victim of a closed, classist, moralistic society,” a point that is stressed, for example, at Flora’s party. In 1960s Paris, he tells us, the maids were all Spanish, so instead of hiring dancers, the guests entertain themselves by mocking their servants: dancing flamenco (badly by intention), the men wearing bullfighter hats, doing acrobatic leaps, and laughing at themselves. It worked rather well, at least for those in the audience who were in on the joke.
Sagi’s characterizations affected the acting and made for an interesting drama, but his problem is with the score. His meaner Germont is betrayed by Verdi’s more sympathetic music, and that goes double for Alfredo.
As Violetta, Armenian soprano Hrachuhí Basséenz was rather tentative in the first act, almost inaudible in the lower register. She got stronger as the act progressed, showing lovely vocal coloring and excellent coloratura. She has significant vibrato, but she uses it effectively. She is not a natural actor, and gestures sometimes seem forced. Still, she was poignant and persuasive in her solos and especially in the final act.
The star of the evening was the Alfredo, Liparit Avetisyan, also Armenian. A real Verdi tenor with a robust, liquid sound and excellent dramatic instincts, he is capable of considerable subtlety. He dominated the stage but was not well matched with Bassenz, whom he tended to overpower. Bulgarian baritone Vladimir Stoyanov was an ideal Germont, with ample power, nice vocal coloring, and persuasive acting. The rest of the cast was excellent without exception.
Italian conductor Renato Palumbo led an agile, finely detailed performance, often quite brisk, occasionally overpowering his singers. It was ultimately an exciting evening.
Teatro Colón receives the bulk of its funding from federal and city governments, but drastic budget cuts have reduced the number of performances. Next season will feature only six operas, down from seven this season, eight last year, and 10 not so long ago. The musicians complained in an open letter. At a news conference a few weeks ago, Colón’s general director, Gerardo Grieco, said the musicians were “a machine for obstruction” and “lack a work ethic.”
But this season’s biggest controversy has revolved around the appointment of Beatrice Venezi, who became principal guest conductor of the Orquesta Estable, which plays for the opera and ballet. Venezi, 35, is Italian, and her father was a founder of the neo-Fascist Forza Nuova party. Though she distanced herself from the party’s more extreme elements, she was appointed as “music adviser” to the far-right government of Giorgia Meloni. In Venice, musicians went on a one-day strike when she was appointed music director at Teatro La Fenice, complaining both about her limited experience and suggesting political influence in the appointment.
In Buenos Aires, where opera gossip is a way of life, the widely held view is that she was made guest conductor after Meloni recommended her to President Javier Milei. Whatever the truth, and despite the fracas, Venezi has garnered favorable reviews from most of the press. In 2024, prior to her appointment, I heard her conduct Un ballo in maschera here and found her conducting secure, brisk, tight, with excellent balances, always supportive of the singers. For La traviata, Venezi is alternating with Palumbo.
As this eventful season was coming to a close, Colón announced the appointment of Argentine conductor Alejo Pérez as music director for the Orquesta Estable, effective next season.
Buenos Aires Philharmonic Orchestra, Teatro Colón
Yet another new figure here is Zoe Zeniodi, who this season became principal conductor of the Buenos Aires Philharmonic Orchestra. Zeniodi, 49, who is Greek, has been almost universally praised in the press, and the audience seems captivated by her.
On Nov. 22, Zeniodi led the Philharmonic’s season finale, opening with Poema-Skaska (Fairy Tale Poem) by Russian composer Sofia Gubaidulina, who died in March 2025. Based on a children’s radio play about a piece of chalk that can only write boring letters on a blackboard but dreams of artistic expression, it’s a metaphor for creativity repressed by an authoritarian government. Tonally ambiguous, the score features outbursts from the piano and angular violin melodies. Zeniodi conducted with energy and attention to detail.
The program continued with a taut and elegant reading of Stravinsky’s Funeral Song. With an elegiac rumbling in the background, solo instruments leave their songs like wreaths at the bier of “the master,” Rimsky-Korsakov, showcasing the finesse of these excellent musicians.
The all-Russian evening concluded with Tchaikovsky’s Symphony No. 5. It was exciting to discover Zeniodi’s freewheeling, fiery interpretation, with flexible tempos, lots of rubato, and brassy brass. Her concern for detail was still in place: Balances were impeccable and coordination was excellent. It was an extraordinary performance, rewarded by a standing ovation, still rather rare here, reserved for exceptional occasions.
As apparently is her practice, Zeniodi began with a discussion of the three works, and she instructed the audience to refrain from applauding the movements in the symphony (they complied). Tall and slim, she mostly stands erect, like a dancer, conducting without a baton.
Salome, Teatro Municipal, Santiago
In Chile, Santiago’s beloved Teatro Municipal brought the opera season to a close with a new production of Strauss’ Salome (seen Nov. 29). The production, by Chilean director Christine Hucke, is fascinating and quirky, often surreal. But it’s a bit unanchored: a rambling progression of events with characters that don’t seem to belong to any era or to each other. The rotating unit set by Rebekka Dornhege Reyes is functional though unattractive. Steps at the front become the forecourt, with the cistern underneath and with a cramped party space backstage above it all. Action often takes place on several levels at once.
Reyes’ costumes seemed designed more for outrageousness and kitsch than for anything connected to their characters. Herod wore a shiny silver breastplate and purple clothing. Salome got a flowing white gown. Poor Jokanaan had to wear an androgenous, sheer skin-tight shirt. Herodias was more fortunate, wearing a dazzling green cape over a black body suit. Herod’s feast added a circus aspect to the costume party. Male acrobats wearing oversized diapers and gold body paint did body flips and other tricks on hanging lighted circles. The latter formed a recurring motif, serving as the lid to Jokanaan’s cistern, a swing for Salome to perch herself, and the moon.
The “Dance of the Seven Veils” was the most daring and successful scene of the evening, beginning with Herod lecherously fondling Salome and helping her undress. He then disappeared, and Salome was joined by nine doppelgänger dancers as she descended further into madness and obsession. In the background was a picture of an eye, with tears slowly dripping as it witnesses her debasement. Of course, it helped that the Salome, Polish soprano Małgorzata Pawłowska, is attractive and credible as a dancer.
A gifted actress, Pawłowska was intense and persuasive as a depraved teenager, prancing about giddily like a spoiled princess, seductive when it serves her purpose. Still, she lacked the vocal heft the role demands and was often swamped by the giant orchestra, especially when singing in the lower register. But she came through for the big moments, especially the grisly finale, sung and acted with total commitment.
German tenor Michael Gniffke was a one-dimensional Herod, unable vocally or dramatically to portray the volatile mix of madness, cruelty, and flippancy needed for the role. But German mezzo-soprano Christel Loetzsch was a scene-stealing Herodias: charismatic and caustic, vamping around like a jaded queen. Gonzalo Quinchahual was an excellent Narraboth.
Bass-baritone Liam James Karai, who portrayed Jokanaan, was the vocal star of the evening. With ample power and an attractive dark-timbred voice, he dominated the stage.
Chilean-Italian conductor Paolo Bortolameolli, a protégé of Gustavo Dudamel, gave the score a flexible, dramatically incisive reading, full of atmosphere. Bortolameolli was recently announced as music director of the Philharmonic and the National Opera, effective next season.
Carmina Burana, National Symphony Orchestra of Chile, Santiago
This season saw the opening of an elegant new concert venue, National Symphony Hall, which serves as the home for the National Symphony Orchestra of Chile. A full-time orchestra affiliated with the University of Chile, the NSO chose Carl Orff’s Carmina Burana to close the season (heard Nov. 28). Big and brassy, it’s a surefire crowd-pleaser and was presumably picked to show off the hall’s acoustics. That didn’t quite work out as planned.
The spacious stage easily accommodated the large orchestra. The University of Chile Symphonic Chorus filled the elevated space behind the stage, though no children’s chorus was used. Carmina Burana is, of course, filled with giant climaxes and dramatic fortes. Argentine conductor Carlos Vieu pushed the volume to the limit. But in doing so, he exposed a weakness in the hall. It’s on the small side, with just over 1,000 seats. It features dropped ceiling panels and was clearly designed with acoustics in mind, but it simply could not contain this much sound, so there was some distortion. It’s possible that this is fixable: New halls with adjustable panels often need tuning. But for this concert, it was a problem that could have been alleviated by simply lowering the volume to a level the hall could accommodate.
From the start of “O Fortuna,” there were intonation issues in the chorus. These would resolve and then recur. Still, the chorus often had a rude, muscular edge that accentuated the bawdy feel of the performance. Vieu drew nice contrasts and textures in a vigorous performance, which occasionally sounded rushed. The orchestral playing was competent but marred by a few errors in the brass section.
Tabita Martinez, the soprano soloist, had a nice, creamy sound and delivered the cruel top notes with ease. Her “dulcissime” cadenza was sublime. Baritone Patricio Sabaté sang with a clear, sweet voice and managed the falsetto well, though he was covered by the orchestra at times. The tenor solos were sung by a countertenor, Moisés Mendoza, a welcome choice, as his top notes seemed purer and less forced than is often the case with a tenor in this role, especially when he sings as the dying swan.
The youthful, sold-out audience responded enthusiastically. Everyone I spoke with was elated with the addition of a much-needed new hall.
Santiago Philharmonic Orchestra 70th Anniversary Concert, Teatro Municipal
The Santiago Philharmonic Orchestra performs a regular concert season in addition to playing for the opera and ballet at Teatro Municipal. On Dec. 5, the orchestra celebrated its 70th anniversary with a gala concert featuring selections from 10 works, led by Bortameolli, who had earlier conducted Salome. For this concert, only the names of the composers were announced in advance: Program details and guest artists were “a surprise,” introduced by Bortameolli.
An evening like this one, with excerpts performed one right after the other, each out of its context, cannot offer the kind of focused listening provided in a well-conceived regular concert. But when assembled thoughtfully and played competently, as was the case here, it can be an exciting celebration, showcasing the range of a great orchestra and the vast scope of emotion and expression in its repertoire.
Things got off to a lively start with the overture to Johann Strauss II’s Die Fledermaus, played with Viennese effervescence and sweeping elegance. Heads were bobbing and swaying.
To celebrate the orchestra’s role in opera, they were joined by three Chilean sopranos — Verónica Villarroel, Vanessa Rojas, and Paulina González — for the Act III trio from Richard Strauss’ Der Rosenkavalier. Villaroel, who sang Octavian, retired from the stage more than a decade ago. She is a beloved icon here, and even if she is not vocally suited to the role, her appearance was greeted with considerable enthusiasm. Rojas (Sophie) and González (Marschallin) were superb, and the lush sound from the orchestra made for sublime listening.
(Photo by Alberto Diaz)
The highlight of the evening was a performance of the first movement from Mahler’s Symphony No. 6. Darker than some readings, Bortameolli’s interpretation showed attention to detail and tautness in the march, and it was finely balanced. Like his mentor Dudamel, Bortameolli favors faster tempos. I’d love to have heard this ensemble perform the rest of the work.
Instead, the orchestra was joined onstage by the opera’s chorus for Bernstein’s Chichester Psalms. With its unusual percussion sound and dramatic tonal contrasts, this is a truly original work, and Bortameolli mastered the colors that make it so compelling. A young Chilean countertenor, José Andrés Muñoz, sang the solos with delicacy and passion. The chorus occasionally was tentative, but the orchestra performance was first-rate.
Also on the program were three soloists, two of whom were principals in the ensemble, performing beloved short excerpts, and a pair of dancers from the ballet who performed the Act II pas de deux from Swan Lake. After a stirring rendition of movements one, three, and four of Respighi’s The Pines of Rome, the audience joined in singing “Cumpleaños feliz” (“Happy Birthday”) and then went outside for an impressive light show projected on the facade of the theater.
