SEATTLE — In a season filled with firsts, Seattle Opera general and artistic director James Robinson’s choice to present two performances of Richard Strauss’ Daphne in concert (Jan. 16 and 18) in McCaw Hall at Seattle Center stands out for its rarity. Unlike Carmen, the only traditional blockbuster in Robinson’s first season at Seattle Opera, Daphne is rarely performed. So far, Seattle appears to be Daphne‘s only appearance worldwide on the 2026 schedule.
Robinson’s belief that Daphne is “one of the composer’s greatest achievements,” a “stunning masterpiece” whose chances for acceptance were eclipsed, after its 1938 Dresden premiere, by the rise of Nazism, was borne out by the quality of Seattle’s performance. As much as the libretto, a compromise between Joseph Gregor and Strauss that draws from the mythological tales of Ovid and Euripides, stretches credulity, large swaths of the opera’s music are gorgeous. Having heard Daphne twice in concert form — the first at San Francisco Opera in 1993, when Jon Fredric West sang the role of Apollo with such force that, from a second balcony seat, his voice literally bounced off the walls — I remain in awe of the power and beauty of its music.
The tendency for opera lovers to single out Daphne’s relatively short final “Transformation Scene” at the expense of all that precedes it is unfortunate. The character’s extended opening monologue is riveting, and the central love scene and subsequent confrontation between Apollo, Daphne, and Leukippos is successively rapturous, alarming, and breathtaking. As much as a written synopsis may be necessary to fill in the gaps in Gregor’s libretto, no opera lover needs a primer to hear how glorious Strauss’ music is when sung by artists fully up to the task.
Here, Robinson scored dearly. Of the four main principals, three — soprano Heidi Stober (Daphne), tenor David Butt Philip (Apollo), and tenor Miles Mykkanen (Leukippos) — were making their Seattle Opera debuts. All in prime voice for the Jan. 16 opening performance, they all but overpowered the other principal, Melody Wilson (Gaea), in volume, expressive range, and stage presence. Wilson may have some winning tones at the bottom of her range, but her voice and movements were too bottled up to make a strong impression.
When I heard Stober perform frequently at San Francisco Opera between 2010 and 2014, she struck me as a light lyric soprano with a lovely, uncomplicated voice and winning stage presence. Over the decade since I last saw her, playing Magnolia in Show Boat, the voice has grown in size, color, and character. Unfortunately, her move to roles that require more vocal weight seems to have come at a price. Early in the performance, the undertones in Stober’s vibrato were so strong as to obscure what note she was singing. Even after the voice settled, her tendency to open the vibrato wide for dramatic effect compromised her voice’s essential beauty. It was only in final, high-lying Transformation Scene that she produced the lovely, easily spun pure tones for which she is prized.
Visually, she was an ideal Daphne, with facial expressions and body language that changed as the story unfolded. In this respect, she benefited greatly from David Gately’s discreet direction. One might not think a director essential to a concert version of an opera, but Gately’s choreography, in combination with Ranleigh Starling’s excellent, tastefully employed lighting changes, greatly enhanced the impact of music and libretto. Stober’s gown-change to green at the opera’s conclusion, as well as many of her telling interactions with Butt Philip and Leukippos, increased her impact. The brief love scene was a highpoint.
Butt Philip was magnificent. Having already sung several demanding heldentenor roles, including Bacchus in Ariadne auf Naxos, Florestan in Fidelio, and the title role in Lohengrin, he soared freely, sang with unstinting strength and authority, and gained in power as the opera progressed. When he dropped his pretense as a herdsman and revealed himself as the god Apollo, his voice glistened as he was bathed in golden light. The effect was as stunning as his voice and bearing.
Mykkanen’s gleamingly sung portrayal of Leukippos, Daphne’s friend since childhood, was equally effective. Unfazed by the role’s high tessitura, he emitted the strong, golden tones of a pure lyric tenor. His instrument, which has rapidly opened doors at the Met, San Francisco Opera, and Los Angeles Opera, was a joy to listen to. In addition, thanks to Gately’s direction and a telling change in background lighting, he portrayed his character’s death effectively. I’d love to hear him again in Seattle soon, this time as Tamino, Don Ottavio, or Ferrando.
Making his Seattle Opera debut, bass-baritone Matthew Rose (Peneios), an international star in his own right, stood out for the strength, beauty, and heartfelt humanity of his voice. In another Seattle debut, rising soprano Meryl Dominguez (First Maid) was a delight, her voice shining with joy as she teased her way through her role. Mezzo-soprano Sarah Coit (Second Maid), whose career is also on the ascent, blended exquisitely with Dominguez. Although they were covered by the orchestra in parts of the house, Ilya Silchukou, Martin Bakari, Micah Parker, and Michael J. Hawk sang well as the four Shepherds. As did the male chorus, shepherded, as it were, by chorus master Michaella Calzaretta.
David Afkham’s conducting of a large contingent of Seattle Symphony musicians, who were seated onstage behind singers and chorus, was puzzling. As much as his tempos were ideal — the pacing of the love scene and ensuing confrontation was superb — he seemed to hold the orchestra in check for most of the performance. Only in the final “Transformation Scene” did he allow the fresh and colorful sound of Seattle Symphony musicians to pour forth. Given that friends of mine in the dress circle thought Afkham allowed the orchestra to overpower the four shepherds at the start of the opera, while I heard them clearly from row S center orchestra, it’s possible that we in the middle of the orchestra seats were most affected by the instruments’ position at stage rear.
