Articles by Chanda VanderHart

Swiss composer Othmar Schoeck’s Notturno is the rarity in an imaginative chamber recital dedicated to nocturnal music and transfiguration.   

Kate Lindsey’s voice is luminous, effortlessly regulated in every register, and intertwined magically with the gleaming soprano of Slávka Zámečníková, a very special new jewel in the Staatsoper ensemble who is every inch a star.

Faust and Méphistophélès pal around like buddies in Castorf's multi-media staging, the devil here less diabolical and more anarchistic party-boy. 

A five-hour operatic marathon as the full, five-act French version of Verdi's epic Don Carlos returns to the Staatsoper after a seven-year hiatus. 

Leoncavallo's opera is a rare example of a tragic, verismo opera where not a soul dies... neither by natural causes nor foul play.  

Argerich sprinted through technical runs with her characteristic articulation and breathtaking technique, and made Prokofiev's Third seem like child’s play.

All the light, tuneful melodies and tuttis of the Ninth Symphony are still somehow Shostakovich, but a Shostakovich during a rare period where he seems to be taking antidepressants.

Keith Warner directs a new opera which packs in betrayal, murder, oppression, freedom, love and the Spanish Inquisition into a mere 90 minutes.

Movement was so effectively utilised in this production, with elements of ballet, modern and Scottish folk melded in true Agnes de Mille fashion.

Sam Brown's sparse production leaves nothing to focus on but the individual protagonists on stage. 

Countertenor Lawrence Zazzo is more than at home in the role of Oberon, and possesses a vocal quality ideal for the scheming king of the fairies, simultaneously eerie and seductive.

Christiane Karg is the resplendent soprano in a wonderful performance of Mahler's Fourth at the Konzerthaus.

During the “Salce” and “Ave Maria” in Act Four Bezsmertna turned this to magical effect, thinning out and floating her shimmering soprano into gossamer threads.

Director Nikolaus Habjan took Oberon’s inherent miscellany and ran with it, straight into a retro-futurism aesthetic.

It is all very easy on the eyes, although pondering what it is all supposed to mean is a recipe for a migraine.

Excellent chamber orchestras are a true pleasure to behold. The Wiener Virtuosen were in their element in an evening of Mozart, Mahler and Dvořák. 

Whether one prefers more raw emotion and large-scale architecture or is thrilled by perfectly sculpted individual masterpieces, this was undeniably chamber music of the highest order.

The soul of the composer seems very much alive in her touch, particularly in his most retrospective moments.

Osborn absolutely lives the part; he negotiated formidable heights, intricate passage work and the sheer volume of notes with style and clarity as well as colour and nuance. 

Marlis Petersen's Alcina bloomed for a knockout “Ah! mio cor!” just in time for intermission.