Plácido Domingo Opera News, (March 1996):
There are great tenors. Richard Leech, Richard Margison, Michael Sylvester - certainly Neil Shicoff - José Cura, Roberto Alagna, Marcello Giordani, Giuseppe Sabbatini, Vincenzo La Scola: these are really great tenors.
Peter Blaha, (Das Opernglas, November 1997):
Vienna's operagoers decided long ago: The legitimate successor to the Three Tenors is Neil Shicoff.
Joseph Volpe, General Manager of the Metropolitan Opera (March 1997):
I am delighted to welcome this important American artist back to the Met. His return happily coincides with the 20th anniversary of his debut with the company. He has already sung 14 roles in 155 performances with us in the past, and has imbued each of them with the depth of his artistry and characterization. As a native New Yorker, he has of course a natural affinity for the Met and we look forward to his giving many more performances here in the future.
James Levine, Artistic Director of the Metropolitan Opera (March 1997):
My artistic collaboration with Neil goes back a long way even to before I conducted his debut performance in Gianni Schicchi in October 1976. His career has since blossomed both in the United States and, over the last few years, in Europe. He has so much to contribute to operatic life in this country and it will be good to work with him again. I have missed him enormously!
Hans Uli von Erlach, Blick, (25 April 1994):
Standing out from the others was Neil Shicoff, with his warm, shining, yet dramatic tenor voice.
Metropolitan Opera (February-March 1983)
Robert Jacobson, Opera News (May 1983):
Neil Shicoff, delivering Maurizio's music in the best impassioned Corelli manner, sounded clear and warm in timbre, properly sobbing in style, and altogether brilliant, proving his European experience has turned him into the next preeminent tenor on the scene.
Bernard Holland, New York Times (5 February 1983):
The evening's Maurizio, Neil Shicoff, was notable, on the other hand, for the admirable evenness of his sound from bottom to top: Mr. Shicoff's tenor is lean and athletic and may lack the booming resonance of traditional Italian tenordom. But it is a cultured technique, one in which every potential vocal problem seems to have been carefully considered and then thoroughly conquered.
Thomas Meyer, Tages Anzeiger (12 July 1999):
...lead performer Neil Shicoff, who obviously identifies with the director's concept, and who plunges hgimself into the role with complete commitment, mastering it in a superior style and endowing it with total passion: a credible figure.
Der Neue Merker (September 1999):
He looks just as good in his grey lounge suit as (in the last act) in the tailcoat with the pink waistcoat, and demonstrates such a strong personality that it's obviously not just his "office" that makes him attractive to his opponents and to women. Shicoff plays the internal conflict between his sense of responsibility to his "court" and people and his burning love for his first minister's wife wonderfully. He allows himself genuine moments of happiness (love duet); but then his struggle against this passion is also touching. Vocally he is magnificent. With a continuous clear, bright tone, rich with emotion, this Boston governor sings of the strength of his love, his despair, and his conquest. With an accurate, soaring musical line, he catapulted the radiant high notes of his "Ah, riverderti Amelia nella tua belta..." into space, and singing intimately of his parting from love and life, released with all the pain and the agonized consciousness of his voluntary renunciation, and his assignment of his fortune to his murderer.
Christian Berzins, Aangauer Zeitung (12 July 1999):
In Neil Shicoff, Flimm found a singer-actor who carries out his ideas ideally. A hounded man, who sways precariously between isolation and immersion in the crowd. That which Shicoff suggests dramatically, he completes vocally. Every sound is "sacrificed" to the scene, which Shicoff steps away from just to produce pretty sounds at the apron [of the stage]. This vocal exhibitionist always remains true to the text, interpreting it with relentless realism - Verdi's notes are a nice aid to him. When on gallows hill, he asks Amelia in a trembling, breathless voice whether she loves him ("m'ami?")...the way he draws out the "a" in "ultima" in his last aria, so that the finality of the word is emphasized: this is greatest of interpretive artistry. Not to mention the melancholy in his honey-sweet timbre, his refined legato, or his dangerous forte outbursts!
Hans Uli von Erlach, Tagblatt der Stadt Zürich (12 July 1999):
Neil Shicoff displays a dramatic Bel Canto sensitivity as "President" Riccardo.
Hans Uli von Erlach, Blick (11 July 1999):
Neil Shicoff as Riccardo: develops more and more, as the evening progresses, into a magnificent Bel Canto dramatic [tenor].
Thomas Gfeller, Bund (12 July 1999):
For vocal delight - and intense stage presence - Neil Shicoff delivers, as Riccardo, with power and strength of character.
Horst Koegler, Bühne (August 1999):
As a tenor, Shicoff represents a special class: bloom, elegance of phrasing, easy high notes, absolutely secure taste, melancholy tonal edginess - in him they add up to complete the portrait of a cultivated Verdi stylist, a successor to Bergonzi.
Dr. Stefan Mauss, Das Opernglas (September 1999):
Neil Shicoff sang and acted at first somewhat cautiously, but by the first act finale had achieved absolute top form. His high notes came with admirable reliability and vast, soaring power. He succeeded in creating an oppressive character portrait of the introverted, sensitive Riccardo, who must force himself at every turn to pose and laugh for the cameras. And some minor textual uncertainties could not prevent the great second act love duet with Amelia from emerging as the musical highlight of the evening. Shicoff's phrasing was exemplary. In this duet, he combined mezzavoce effects with perfect crescendos to build an arc of excitement.
Andrea Menli, Musik und Theater (September 1999):
Once Neil Shicoff quickly succeeded in putting away his legendary nervousness (particularly in his first aria), he presented the role of Riccardo with secure, dazzling high notes and - almost more important - with exemplary diction.
Susanne Benda, Die Welt (28 April 2000):
When Neil Shicoff sings, he almost transports the soul from his body.
F.E., Kurier (10 June 1997):
Of all the tenors known to us at present, Neil Shicoff is the most interesting and - not every evening, but certainly over and over again - the most exciting: he immediately proved this on Sunday in the first act of La Bohème.
Royal Opera House, Covent Garden (1982)
Anthony Merryn, The Stage:
His Rodolfo was much more than a mere tenor. One could believe in him as a sensitive writer in a wretched environment, showing Mimi his work, involved with her, undergoing ecstasy, torment and grief as a real person.
Gallo, Audio Video SA Review (March 2001):
Ileana Cotrubas is her usual perfect self, giving a splendid performance as the consumptive Mimì. Her Rodolfo, Neil Shicoff is equally impressive.
Opéra International:
The American tenor had brought himself, three years earlier, to international attention in an Aix Werther which earned him a place on the cover of Opéra International. The Rumanian soprano truly triumphed as Mimì, particularly at La Scala in Milan, under the baton of Carlos Kleiber. Together, they formed a couple memorable in all points, managing even to eclipse, at times, their great predecessors, with their fragility, their poetic sense, their playfulness, and especially their musical gifts.
Harold Rosenthal, British Opera Diary:
Neil Shicoff's Rodolfo was more 20th century than 19th, but he sang with a lovely fresh tone and complete naturalness.
A. Blythe, Opera (March 1984):
...Neil Shicoff a wholly plausible Rodolfo, Italianate in tone and suitably vulnerable - so many tenors in this role hardly look as though they are feeling heartbreak - Shicoff certainly does.
Royal Opera House, Covent Garden (25 May 1979)
Elizabeth Forbes, British Opera Diary:
For the first two acts Neil Shicoff made a somewhat prosaic Rodolfo, giving little indication of strong feelings either as poet or as lover; his voice is light for the role's more passionate outbursts. But the painful analysis of his own jealousy given to Marcello at the Barriére d'Enfer, and the subsequent reunion with Mimì, brought a much deeper emotional response, while Rodolfo's swiftly changing moods in the last act, from feigned indifference to nostalgia, from cheerfulness to desolation, were graphically projected.
Christopher Norton-Welsh, Opera News (June 2001):
Vere, the most complicated of the three principals, is the sort of role in which Neil Shicoff excels. He made it quite clear that the central concern of the work is the conflict between moral justice and inescapable duty. Although shorter than his officer,s he seemed tall, exuding authorit until, tormented by his conscience during the court martial, he visibly shrank in stature, then rose again when confronting his threatening crew following the execution.
Markus Bächler, Opera-L (1 Jul 2001):
Absolute genius from Shicoff.
Wiener Staatsoper (February 2001)
E.H., Mittelloge.de (28 Feb 2001):
Neil Shicoff sings and acts subtly. Always the first choice for difficult characters, Neil Shicoff delivers an extraordinary experience - one cannot be escaped...nor should it be.
Walter Beyer, OÖNachrichten (14 Feb 2001):
Neil Shicoff as a captain Vere...understands how to make his abysses and destiny so visible it makes one hold one's breath.
Franz Endler and Gert Korentschnig, Die Freizeit, (February 2001):
Neil Shicoff, the most intelligent tenor at present, succeeds at bringing "broken" characters to the stage like no-one else. In Benjamin Britten's Billy Budd, as Capitain Vere he dominated an illustrious ensemble, and drew inspiring cries from the audience. The Staatsoper knows, if he is onstage, the house reaches an outstanding level of contemporary [art], and can sustain it only with tenor Neil Shicoff.
Karlheinz Roschitz, (source unknown) (14 February 2001):
Neil Shicoff is a fascinating Captain Vere, the "Starry Vere " who sacrifices his love of the law, of power, of duty. It is a clinical study of a man of power. And no-one could sing the role more excitingly than Shicoff.
Edwin Baumgartner, Wiener Zeitung, (14 February 2001):
Neil Shicoff is the Vere of the Viennese production: His portrayal of the self-destruction of the captain, his tormented incapacity to act, is incomparable. Shicoff embodies the moral dilemma of the paralyzed "man of action" with a perfection that only the greatest singer actors ever achieve.
Franz Endler, Kurier (14 February 2001):
Neil Shicoff sings and is the captain. He begins and ends the drama alone, and has great moments again and again. After this evening, you'll surely want to experience him never again in his conventional roles, but always in character studies.
Wilhelm Sinkovicz, Die Presse, (14 February 2001):
Neil Shicoff...has a most attractive tone palatte for his artistic vocal differentiation.
Wolfgang Schaufler, Der Standard (14 February 2001):
OVERWHELMING SHICOFF: This is an all-male opera, and is naturally cast with strong singer-actors. Neil Shicoff was restrained in the first two acts. His performance after the intermission, though, was peerless. Torn between inclination (affection) and the strictly authoritarian bonds of duty, he gives more than just a dramatic contour to the trapped, suffering captain. And he still had the [vocal] strength needed for the big eruptions at the end, without ever sounding excessive or forced.
Clemens Prokop, Süddeutsche Zeitung (14 February 2001):
Neil Shicoff is a captain of the Old Guard: he lets nothing external touch him inside. While he sustains the tone of voice of a courageous captain, his inner conflict, his sympathy for Budd, his distrust of his Master-at-Arms, his fear of mutiny and The Rights of Man, are not reflected in it. Only once does the private Vere appear: when he ruffles the hair of his cabin boy, stops a moment and reflects, then turns away smiling to himself. But he immediately reverts to The Commander. Deep within him somewhere may simmer an undefined eroticism, but...the Vienna Budd is not a nautical opera about men who love other men.
Birgit Popp, Opera Notes, (2001):
The circumstances are compressed into the closeness of a ship, yet they correspond to many people's daily lives - an aspect that particularly induced Neil Shicoff to take on the role. "The moral question interests me: to what extent is a person ready to sacrifice his morals to achieve his ends?" When he heard that Billy Budd was to be produced for the first time at the Wiener Staatsoper, the American tenor asked whether he could manage this central character's swinging between good and evil. The tenor, famous for portraying torn characters, is the near-ideal embodiment of Captain Vere, on one hand, the Man of Action, on the other, the dreamer, literate humanist, philosopher, and father-figure. Not only in his acting does Shicoff convincingly portray this schizophrenia, but also in his singing of this difficult role, which has many lyric moments interspersed throughout, despite its heroic tenor fach with its arduous tessitura.
Jeremy Wance, Opera Japonica (10 March 2001):
The other truly complicated character is Captain Vere.... In speaking with Neil Shicoff after the performance I came to understand that he feels that Captain Vere is not the most important of the characters, but rather is more involved from the sidelines. This is his debut in the role, however, and he stated that it is most definitely a work-in-progress. Despite Shicoff's feelings, he presented a Vere that was, nevertheless, deeply conflicted, and thereby almost satisfied my expectations. Vocally, Shicoff was wonderfully commanding. Hearing a more 'conventional' tenor in the role takes a bit of getting used to after the legendary performances of Peter Pears and, more recently, Philip Langridge, both of which have a very singular quality to their voices. Shicoff handles the vocal demands with authority and finesse.
Charles Osborne, British Opera Diary:
The American tenor Neil Shicoff was making his house debut as Pinkerton. As authentically American in appearance, and even posture, as his Butterfly was authentically Japanese, he made a dramatically convincing character of the emotionally immature lieutenant, and displayed a healthy and serviceable lyric tenor which he deployed with skill.
Neil Shicoff, Opera News (4 February 1989):
My relationship to characters is always through the vulnerable, softer side that's somewhat disturbed. I play Carlo like that, extremely vulnerable, troubled and ill-fated. Carlo has three interesting relationships - with his father, with his friend Rodrigo, and with the woman he loves. The relationship between Carlo and his father is scary. Filippo is not a cold character, but to Carlo he's unresponsive and insensitive, a tree that doesn't bend. Carlo flings his sword around in the auto-da-fé, interrupting a public function. Psychologically, it's a difficult part to put together from beginning to end. For the tenor, the opera starts out very strong, but by the time you've sung half the opera, you've done ninety percent of your part. There's a lot of singing and drama in the second part that Carlo isn't involved with. Therefore it's a little difficult to sustain the role dramatically. The ending is not as strong as it could be, and I'm sure that's bothered every tenor who has sung it. On a dramatic level, not only is the ending weak, but you have to re-establish for the audience who you are. It's not a competition as to who takes the show at the end; it's a matter of the continuity of the character. On a musical level, it's a beautiful piece, satisfying to sing. The passionate second love duet is a highlight, and Carlo's delirium is a wonderful moment.
Salzburg Festival (11 August 2001)
Gert Korentschnig, Kurier (11 August 2001):
The prince himself is a more insecure, weaker man driven by love nad lust for power. A loser, from the beginning bowed, suffering - thus one of those characters that the intelligent tenor Neil Shicoff loves so much. His Don Carlo is not (vocally) at all heroic. Shicoff sings, acts, is his role so perceptively that it would clearly be idle to speculate whether any of his predecessors ever reached the same high level.
H.G. Pribil, Wiener Zeitung (13 August 2001):
The incomparable Neil Shicoff is in the title role. A Don Carlo of the like one does not experience very often. No fiery hothead and daredevil - instead, a fragile, pale (almost pallid) prince who cannot possibly cope with the workings of power all around him, who, in fact, was only ever well-cared-for in his grandfather's day. Neil Shicoff sings with his characteristic, umistakeable timbre, and embodying his character with such unconditional, selfless dedication that one is, in every single moment, completely drawn under this great singer-actor's spell. But has there ever been a Shicoff role for which this wasn't true?
Opéra de Paris (21 September 1998)
David Stevens, International Herald Tribune (23 September 1998):
Vladimir Chernov brought a relatively light baritone to the music of the improbably idealistic Rodrigo, and his duets with the Don Carlo of Neil Shicoff, came off splendidly. Shicoff's lyric tenor suits the title role admirably, and he gave a suitably neurotic intensity to the unbalanced prince.
Marie-Aude Roux, Le Monde (25 September 1998):
Neil Shicoff's Don Carlo (flexible, valiant, tender, and vehement)...
Richard Fairman, The Financial Times (14 October 1998):
Neil Shicoff sang very well.
Dr. Christian Merlin, Das Opernglas (November 1998):
The only one however, when compared with the great examples of the past - including Corelli - that in no way paled, was Neil Shicoff in the title role. He portrayed the prince's intense spiritual confusion and hypersensitivity, and joined his voice's lyrical bloom with intelligently disposed reserves of power, his powerfully soaring high notes and perfectly placed support optimally suiting him to this role, which many tenors consider unforgiving, and which make Shicoff one of today's rare masters in this fach.
Wiener Staatsoper (12 September 1997)
Peter Blaha, Das Opernglas (November 1997):
Vienna's operagoers decided long ago: The legitimate successor to the Three Tenors is Neil Shicoff. Whenever he is scheduled, long queues form in front of the advance booking kiosks. And so it was for this evening, when Neil Shicoff sang Don Carlo in Vienna for the first time. It is not a role to his taste, the American start tenor explained in an interview. Above all, the version [of the opera] played in Vienna cuts part of the role and robs the title hero of his developmental possibilities. Nevertheless, Neil Shicoff extracted from the character everything possible. The prince's breakdown, when his friend Posa calculatedly places himself on Philip's side in Carlo's dispute with the king, and claims that Carlo had already produced the sword, showed Shicoff at his most incredibly thrilling: for a moment, Carlo even (and appropriately) lost his voice. At times like these Shicoff, with vocal brilliance and bravura, played trumps - but these were never self-serving, but rather, always a means of expression.
Peter Jarolin, Kurier (14 September 1997):
In Giuseppe Verdi's Don Carlo, as everybody knows, the Spanish prince refuses the crown. At the Wiener Staatsoper, though, Neil Shicoff made a conquest on Friday, taking the public by storm and winning their favour in his Vienna debut of the role. Vocally in top form and with an eerie intensity, Shicoff depicted the disintegration of Don Carlo's life, love, and statesmanship. Whether in dramatic attacks, tender lyricism, or intensely powerful tonal passages, the American tenor was inspired in all scenes. In a forceful, nuanced portrayal, he gave voice to the numerous facets the role, and also drew out new aspects of the prince's character.
Henning Mehnert, Orpheus-Oper International-Opernspiegel (June 1999):
With beautiful, sustained high notes, Neil Shicoff deftly invested the emotionalism for which he is well-known into the neurotic Basque.
Das Opernglas (June 1999):
Recovered and in best form, Neil Shicoff sang Don José. His total performance was overwhelming - even if his throat is not always shining, but sometimes streams with matte gold. Along with intense passion, Shicoff's performance emphasised the conflicted personality of the character, which he sang most musically and without shrinking from any risk. He was wonderfully expressive, for instance, in the Flower aria, and in the last phrases of the opera, which he spun out from pianissimo into almost endless, poignant tones.
J.L. García del Busto, ABCe (9 April 1999):
Better yet was Neil Shicoff's Don José, particularly after the first act: his voice is not especially beautiful, but displays a firmness, accuracy, and good sense of line, perhaps better adapted to the dramatically-charged moments [of the opera] that can defeat lyric voices.
Vicente Casas, Classic Digital (23 March 2000):
As for Neil Shicoff, who seasons ago I had a chance to listen to at the Liceu, in a production with scenery by Nuria Espert: he continues to be the most convincing Don José, for me, of the last decade, after Carreras. His Don José is psychological and is able to pass from tenderness to violence with an edge that gives one goose bumps in the last scene with Carmen before luring her into a trap at the bullring.
Opéra de Paris - Bastille (February 1997)
David Stevens, International Herald Tribune:
Neil Shicoff was a passionately splendid José, despite having announced himself as indisposed.
Teatro Colón, Buenos Aires (February 1995)
Kurier (25 February 1995):
Neil Shicoff, unequalled in our time as Don José, received the ovation of the Buenos Aires opera audience for the first time in his starring role.
Wiener Staatsoper (January 1995)
Kurier (1 January 1995):
With great passion, Neil Shicoff reclaimed the role of Don José and sang almost flawlessly.
Arena di Verona (July 1993)
Kurier (5 July 1993):
Neil Shicoff, already long a hero and favourite in Vienna, now also captivates the Arena as Don José. He has strength and refinement, though here he has to portray a weakling.
Orange, France (1992)
Diana Sinclair , Opera News (November 1992):
Neil Shicoff's José ranks among the best heard in Europe for a long time.
Wiener Staatsoper (March 1992)
Oberösterreichische Nachtrichten (10 March 1992):
With his Werther and Cavaradossi, Neil Shicoffis a favourite of the Viennese. With his first Don José [at the Staatsoper], he yet again set new standards in Carmen. It would be impossible to imagine this role better-developed in terms of intelligence, intensity, or psychological depth.
Stuttgart, Germany (28 June 1991)
Horst Kögler, Opera News (October 1991):
With Neil Shicoff's intelligent portrayal of Don José and the transformation he undergoes - let alone the singing of his part, which seemed to originate from his heart rather than his throat - the opera might have been called The Tragedy of Don José.
Lyric Opera of Chicago (2 January 1990)
John von Rhein, Chicago Tribune (January 1990):
Shicoff has seldom given Chicago a finer performance. His tenor flowed more sweetly, evenly and freely than in previous Lyric engagements, and his singing rang with impassioned intensity. One could hope that one day he might deliver the end of the Flower Song as Bizet wrote it - he certainly has it in his voice. Dramatically, his portrayal of a mama's boy fatally torn between a sense of duty and an obsessive attraction for a free-spirited gypsy girl made this Carmen the tenor's tragedy. The violence of the final duet was truly scary.
Jerry Hadley:
I think Neil Shicoff is fantastic in the role.
Teatro Colón (June 2001)
Jaime Botana, Buenos Aires Herald (June 2001):
Hoffmann Incarnate: Bringing Neil Shicoff back to these shores was a brilliant idea. He is not only an exceptional singer: he is one of those artists who can communicate immediately and passionately with an audience through mere stage presence, and the voice and the musicality match his formidable acting prowess. He sailed through the title role as if it didn't contain very dangerous and scary passages for the voice, constant presence on stage and a killing tessitura. This he did with no apparent effort, showing his total command of the art-of-hiding-art. His voice production is impeccable, the tuning is beyond a shadow of reproach - and his phrasing is marvellous. Everybody has an ideal Hoffmann in her/his head, and comparisons with recordings or hazy memories may be unfair, but I found him to be Hoffmann incarnate, making his part even more interesting that the libretto and the score allow for. It would seem urgent to engage him for the near future. Opening night coincided with his very Gemini birthday, and the whole company sang him a hearty Happy Birthday, joined by the happy audience. Yes, Happy Birthday, and especially, many happy returns.
José Luis Sanchez, L'Opera (July-August 2001):
The protagonist was Neil Shicoff who, despite his long artistic career, was in fine vocal shape, showing no signs of fatigue at any time in the evening in a role that is among the most laborious in the tenor repertoire. He gave his utmost in every note, every aria, every ensemble.
Metropolitan Opera (January-February 2000)
Peter G. Davis, New York Magazine (14 February 2000):
Neil Shicoff is still a dashing Hoffmann.
Shirley Fleming, New York Post:
The three principals - Neil Shicoff, Ruth Ann Swenson and Bryn Terfel - were a formidably gifted team. Shicoff created a full-dimensional Hoffmann, physically lithe and full of energy, sensitive to vocal coloration, always appealing in timbre. He went full steam in this demanding part, still managing to pour out rapture to the third of his trio of bewitching women and to leap onto a tavern table as the clock approached midnight.
Chesley Plemmons, The News-Times (6 February 2000):
Neil Shicoff as Hoffman. Shicoff has a strong voice that boasts poise and a lyric pianissimo, and he sang the long role with passionate conviction and with little if any hint of forcing.
Philip Anson, La Scena Musicale (4 February 2000):
Tenor Neil Shicoff is a performer of rare integrity, known for his intense method acting and tendency to squander his voice. His prologue and first act were stunning, with edge-of-your-seat singing and fine high notes. So much more interesting than tenor Richard Leech, last heard as Hoffman in the Met's 1997-1998 season. But Shicoff paid for this in Act 2 and Act 3, sounding fatigued. Luckily he pulled out the stops for a moving epilogue.
Paul J. Pelkonen, NewYork.CitySearch.com (28 January 2000):
Neil Shicoff made a triumphant return to the Metropolitan Opera stage on Thursday, Jan. 27, the opening night of the company's revival of Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffmann. Singing the role of E.T.A. Hoffmann, the tormented, alcoholic poet who gets ditched four times in spectacular fashion by four different women (all played by Ruth Ann Swenson), Shicoff sang with tenderness, sophistication and beauty of tone. He understands how to inject meaning into this work's wonderful libretto, projecting Hoffmann's rose-tinted foolishness and bleak heartbreak, often at the same time. From his first major aria, the "Song of Kleinzach" (with its lovely, central section in which he rapturously describes his lady-love), Shicoff had the audience, and he held them in the palm of his hand all night long.
Margaret Harrison, The Classical Singer (April 2000):
Neil Shicoff as Hoffmann was perfect in this angst-filled role. His intense-yet-sincere manner makes one want to pat him on the shoulder and say, as a parent to a child, "It will be all right". He sounded wonderful throughout his range; the top notes were thrilling, yet were produced easily and connected with the rest of his voice. He moved with grace, jumping on and off the table in the Tavern with ease. His waltzing with Olympia was wonderful to watch, and his swordfight with Schlemil in the Giulietta act was convincing. (Performance: 4 February 2000)
Howard Levin, Opera Jamboree (31 January 2000):
Shicoff's Hoffmann is still one of his more effective roles, even after nearly 20 years. Apparently, he paces himself a bit better now, and doesn't end the opera completely soaked in perspiration. The fact that he can still make us believe what Hoffmann is doing, and still sing it well, is a tribute to his voice, his technique and his acting abilities.
Zürich Opernhaus (27 September 1995)
Ralf Tiedemann, Das Opernglas (November 1995):
As Hoffmann Neil Shicoff is at present unrivalled in the great opera houses. He is not just the tenor most in demand equal to this role, but he brings it to life it with all his available resources. Yet, that this performance was not completely satisfying lies in the many lyric moments, several of which were too loud. Thus, there remained little room to Shicoff for dynamic shadings and suitable crescendos of his as-ever impressive, reliable, and gorgeous high notes. This consistently over-pressurised vocalism impaired the otherwise extremely positive impression made by his fascinating portrait of Hoffmann.
Martin Etter, Bund (25 September 1995):
...found its high point in the personification of the title hero by Neil Shicoff - without a doubt, a completely world-class role portrayal in terms of his ability to display playful transformations, in his accomplished tenor performance, and in his simply magical radiance. Why Shicoff take second place to that all too glittery trio of stars, Carreras-Domingo-Pavarotti, after this Hoffmann, is totally incomprehensible.
Guy Lang, Blick (25 September 1995):
Phenomenal singing, the orchestra in top form, and direction that did not completely rise to the same level. The public celebrated, on Saturday, the new production of Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffmann....Neil Shicoff embodies the poet. With a fantastic ease in singing and a marvelous command of his voice. In addition, he moves with a refreshing naturalness, playful and likeable.
Teatro del Liceu, Barcelona (19 June 1990)
Pablo Nadal, Monsalvat:
Neil Shicoff created a Hoffmann who was smooth and mobile onstage, without the slightest vocal problem but with an irritating tendency to open up his sound in his lower register. With a voice of great quality and magnificent phrasing, he was arrogant in every moment, and found in the second act his golden moment in terms of singing. A magnificent singer who, perhaps, received less notice than he deserved from the audience.
Metropolitan Opera (1988)
John O'Connor, New York Times (2 Mar 1988):
Suddenly, it seems, the acting can be as impressive as the singing. This Tales of Hoffmann contains some first-rate examples. As Hoffmann, the drunken romantic, Neil Shicoff initially looks rather slight for the role, but quickly establishes a strong presence through the sheer gusto of his interpretation, both vocally and histrionically.
Joseph McLellan, The Washington Post (2 March 1988):
Tenor Neil Shicoff, a solid, reliable Met performer for the last decade, brings a touch of brilliance to the title role -- better, in some ways, than Placido Domingo's performance in the video edition of the brilliant Covent Garden production.
Metropolitan Opera (Sep/Oct 1984)
Bernard Holland, New York Times (2 Oct 1984):
Neil Shicoff, whose illness Tuesday night precipitated a parade of tenors at the Metropolitan Opera's Tales of Hoffmann, returned in the cast Friday obviously in much better health. Mr. Shicoff, as Hoffmann, acted energetically throughout, but at the beginning one felt an air of wariness mixed with his naturally elegant tenor sound. As the evening wore on, Mr. Shicoff seemed to gain in both strength and confidence. This was in no sense a crippled performance, and was often a strong one.
Hamburgische Staatsoper (24 May 1981)
Gerhart Asche, Panorama (1981):
The sensation came from Neil Shicoff's Hoffmann who - bravely mastering illness - allowed us to hear a tenor of bewitching timbre and captivating, refined sonority, ranging from soft lyricism to fully blossoming strength, with impressively placed high notes. The voice never had to push beyond its limits; each note sounded organic, coming as naturally as Nature itself. If the 31-year-old New Yorker should leap into the top rank of the world's tenors - and the idea doesn't seem so contrived - he would have a decisive advantage over the rest: dramatically he is, in his suffering, not just a "tenor", but a type of Modern Man who brings understanding to his interpretations - without exception, far beyond all of his high B- and C-singing colleagues.
J. Bartels, Das Opernglas (7 August 1981):
Neil Shicoff, apologising for being indisposed, justifiably sang himself into the hearts of Hamburg's Domingo lovers. Here at last is a tenor voice that, pleasantly unbombastic, provides an alternative to Domingo's sometimes too large and dramatically overwrought voice, but without having to perpetually struggle against a lack of tonal color like, for example, Giacomo Aragall.
Opéra-Comique, Paris (early 1980s):
Charles Pitt, British Opera Diary:
If the cast was rather less "international star" than Salzburg, it was very well chosen, with Neil Shicoff a totally believable protagonist, by turns despairing and suicidal, drunk and gay. His lyric tenor is ideal for the high tessitura.
Die Presse (3 September 1999):
Neil Shicoff invested the title character with his great intensity, and proved to be in beautiful condition vocally.
S.Pf., Der Neue Merker (October 1999):
When it came to the title role, all questions of interpretation were unnecessary. If Neil Shicoff appears in such a bomb, the Verdi world is not destroyed. If the tenor can also sustain high notes or extra-long exposed phrases, with top notes even more secure and beautiful-sounding for being unforced and radiant, the auditorium is left standing on its head! First, one must seek a tenor voice that is this impressive consistently in all situations. And when Shicoff is healthy, thanks to an excellent technique and musical intelligence, he can truly create with this voice whatever he wants to create. This time he wanted to cause a sensation, an appearance of reality - and he succeeded dazzlingly, notwithstanding all reflections on the deeper meaning of the aristocratic bandit.
I.M.S., Der Neue Merker (October 1999):
Neil Shicoff, the Vienna public's darling, who surprisingly did not succeed in completely filling the house, was even more dazzling and in a generous mood, threw himself into the role with characteristic intensity, sustaining his high notes extra-long, and proving that his metallic voice had gained even more power and lustre.
Wiener Staatsoper (July 1999)
Die Presse (6 July 1999):
Neil Shicoff still draws the title character too neurotically, making it clear that Ernani is on the path to failure. But his performance of the role was far superior to [that at] the première. Though the brooding personalities of Hoffmann and Peter Grimes are better suited to him and to his voice, he was still able to succeed with well-thought-out vocal gestures. This time, when Shicoff confronted other characters, he performed Verdi's italinità with striking clarity and comprehension.
Opernhaus Zürich (5 June 1999)
Heiner Lajos, Café Momus (8 August 1999):
Some time ago, to my great sadness (and surprise), Shicoff sang indisposed but now he is in top form with a well balanced, healthy voice. Today he is the most sought-after tenor in the Italian and French Romantic opera repertoire, aside from the up-and-coming José Cura. He is an intelligent musician, with a pleasing voice coupled with a secure high C.(thanks to Thomas Broderick's coach and her husband, and to Frank, Kálmán, and Eva for their translations from the Hungarian)
Opernhaus Zürich (5 February 1999)
John W. Freeman, Opera News (June 1999):
Neil Shicoff played the title role with passion but no quirky emotional excess; Shicoff's tenor, darker and fuller these days, easily fit the lyric-heroic idiom.
Wiener Staatsoper (14 December 1998)
Kurier (16 December 1998):
Neil Shicoff...made the Ernani one of his exciting characters. Onstage, he is able to create as much from his personality as from his voice. He is truly the most intelligent tenor of our times.
Walter Beyer, Oberösterreichische Nachtrichten (16 December 1998):
He managed by force of his personality to create a plausible human being, with all his sorrow, and he also managed, thanks to his overwhelming vocal training, to create an incomparable performance, once more delivering proof that there is no tenor in the world today who can compete with him.
Heinz Rögl, Salzburger Nachtrichten (16 December 1998):
...tenor Neil Shicoff, ideally cast in the title role, was able to oblige. He must nevertheless electrify [the audience]. Neil Shicoff's indisposition, which had prevented him from singing the dress rehearsal, contributed least of all to the lukewarm impression made by this premiere. Despite his poor state [of health], Shicoff truly gave his all. Though in some ensembles he necessarily held back, he otherwise reached tragic-romantic full bloom, especially in the final scene. Ernani: a Shicoff role par excellence.
Wilhelm Sinkovicz, Die Presse (16 December 1998):
Neil Shicoff, allegedly indisposed, [was] nevertheless the most exciting artist for miles around.
Salzburger Nachtrichten:
Neil Shicoff is ideally cast.
R. Tiedemann, Das Opernglas:
Using his voical and acting abilities, he convincingly created the title hero.
Neue Kronen Zeitung:
With Neil Shicoff, Verdi's Ernani celebrated a triumph.
Veronika Àgnes Fáncsik, Online Musik Magazin (18 December 1998):
But when Neil Shicoff joins in, the situation is never lost! With his splendorous, bright, dynamic voice and hundreds of red roses in hand he steps into the role of young noble "Don Juan in love" (who later transforms himself into the bandit Ernani) and sings his aria "Come rugiada al cespite" with impressive drama and energy. There may be another tenor with a perhaps more melodious or possibly fuller voice than Shicoff's, but it would be difficult for anyone to better his dramatic performance; he plays the passionate role of Ernani so intensely and convincingly that one is actually surprised when, after meeting his death in the last act, he comes back to life for the curtain call.
Birgit Popp, Opera Notes (1999):
The American singer...moved his tenor with easiness through the score and showed it with carrying capacity and brightness also in the ensemble scenes.
Birgit Popp, Opera Active (1998):
Although he had been plagued with bronchial catarrh for some weeks, Neil Shicoff insisted on singing the première. Although his indisposition was announced, the popular American tenor, who is one of the Viennese public's favourites, nevertheless delivered a musical treat, an impassioned representation of Ernani full of artistic understanding and despair over Ernani's fate.
Opernhaus Zürich (8-10 November 1997)
Thomas Gfeller, Bund (10 November 1997):
Neil Shicoff (Ernani) and Giorgio Zancanaro (Carlos) had to work harder in the typically "full house", but after unfortunate entrances, both of them triumphed through their stature and vocal refinement: from the second scene, Shicoff refused to strain or force [his voice], and used to great advantage of his "italianità", lending to his increasingly pliant tenor a rich vividness of expression.
Hans Uli von Erlach, Tagblatt der Stadt Zürich (10 November 1997):
Neil Shicoff as Ernani: aggressive, erotic, sensitive
Neil Shicoff's unique tenor timbre lends the title figure an aggressive, erotic, and above all sensitive charisma.
Sibylle Ehrismann, Anzeiger von Uster (10 November 1997):
Neil Shicoff, who Alexander Pereira announced at the beginning of the evening was slightly indisposed, broke Ernani's the warlike heart using reserved, stereotypical gestures and a soft tenor that was lacking only its heroic top. Though sung nobly, the arias did not simply recreate the hero's well-worn, obligatory formula of recitativo-cavatina-cabaletta - they were the youthfully reckless expression of an avenger of family honour who discovers for the first time in death his own human proportions.
Ruth Werfel, Handelsblatt (Düsseldorf) (14/15 November 1997):
Neil Shicoff in the title role develops himself more and more into the leading Verdi interpreter. His immaculate, slender tenor [voice] ideally suits this romantic young hero. In the first cavatina when, as the bandit, he pours his heart out and sings of his love for Elvira, he abandons himself to the beauty of his voice - never forcing - and restrains his high notes with wondrous security.
Christian Berzins, Aargauer Zeigung / Limmattaler Tagsblatt (10 November 1997):
The beauty and uniquely personal colouration of his voice, the surprising outbursts, the (rare) piani are charming.
Marianne Zelger-Vogt, Neue Züricher Zeitung (10 November 1997):
...it would have been easy for Shicoff to triumph as the ardent tenor lover, had he not been impeded by bronchitis, which seemed to put a thin veil over his voice, reducing its bloom and brightness. However, this didn't affect his vocal artistry or his youthful ardour.
Peter König, Das Opernglas (January 1998):
The role requires to a certain extent a symbiosis of voice types: Pavarotti's secure top notes, and vocal brightness and power with Domingo's virile timbre and heroic middle register. Such voices are naturally rare. So I was quite excited when, at the peak of his career, American star tenor Neil Shicoff was drawn to the role....His announcement warning that he was suffering from bronchitis proved to be unnecessary: after a somewhat nervous start, Shicoff rapidly found a convincing identification with the bandit, contrary to expectations. Shicoff's trademark is his tightrope walk between passion and intellect. Like Manrico, he sings Ernani with a consistently high vocal pressure, with an odd broadness at the top, but it's still his sweet-timbred, characteristic voice. It is questionable, however, whether his voice is really the jugendliche Heldentenor that is required for the role; it's a pleasure to hear him sing such roles, but it would be unfortunate if he did so at the expense of his "classic" roles, such as Hoffmann, Don José, and Lenski.
Musik und Theater (1998):
Shicoff and Zancanaro sang equally irreproachably, yet with a little lack of concentration.
Die Presse (15 September 1999):
Jürgen Rose...populated the Wiener Staatsoper with house singers and excellent guest artists. Among the latter was Neil Shicoff, inimitable as Lensky, deeply moving in his sense of loss, and in top form vocally - until his friend Onegin's deadly shot strikes him down.
Kurier (15 September 1999):
Neil Shicoff became Lensky, making of the lyric role a deeply dramatic, desperate study.
I.M.S., Der Neue Merker (October 1999):
Neil Shicoff's nervous sensibility achieves a high degree of persuasive power as Lenski, bringing the poet to life with the finest of emotions. A fascinating portrait of the character emerges, that succeeds also through sovereign musical and vocal achievement. Shicoff is Lenski.
Maria F. Winkler, Der Neue Merker (October 1999):
Neil Shicoff proved that this role ranks among his best. Instead of basing his success solely on flawless high notes, he created a sensitive, rapturous poet Lenski. Hampson and Shicoff seemed to be a good, dramatically unified team; their scenes together were the strongest of the evening, because each one complements the other completely. They guaranteed an exciting production!
Wiener Staatsoper (October-November 1998)
Markus Sibere, Die Presse (2 November 1998): There are evenings of opera during which one would gladly give a new twist to the plot. For example, in the recent performance of Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin at the Staatsoper, one would have gladly paid for a different ending to the dramatic duel scene. One would glady have granted Neil Shicoff, who again gave us a shining Lensky, a longer stage life....As the unquestioned star of the evening, Neil Shicoff thrust himself into the scene with his own insistent self-destructiveness. In the foggy Second Act duel scene of the second act, he understood magnificently how darken his slim, intense voice effectively and bring out its many rich facets in the shining upper register. To be able to observe the versatile tenor even longer, one would have been exceptionally glad for him to have won the duel and survived.
Wiener Staatsoper (7 & 11 April 1997)
Christopher Norton, Opera News (August 1997):
Neil Shicoff presented a marvelously ardent Lensky, impulsive in love, leaden in disappointment, heartbreakingly poignant in his regrets to Larina and farewell to life.
Peter Blaha, Das Opernglas (June 1997):
There was no restraint in Neil Shicoff, who stands as the Lensky without competition today, even on an evening like this when he needed time to attain his usual form. Though he was somewhat tired when he began, he was able to energize himself more and more. The aria he sang supremely - although he took some risks with the tempi and style - turning individual phrases completely inward. Even so, he brought the sensitive, easily hurt character of the poet to life magnificently. Fortunately, Neil Shicoff is not a singer who plays it safe, but goes to daring extremes to plumb the deepest recesses of his character's soul.
N.F., Der Neue Merker (September 1997):
His friend Lenski was magnificently embodied by the world star Neil Shicoff. He is virtually unsurpassed in the role today. His singing and acting of the the jealousy and deep sadness of Lenski was outstanding.
Walter Beyer, OÖNachtrichten (9 April 1997):
Shicoff as Lensky, a head shorter than Hampson, fragile, subtle, and enraptured, is from the outset destined to perish. Incredible and still up to now achieved by no other interpreter, this great actor develops an almost clinical study of the character, right up to his longed-for death. That both [singers] achieve the highest vocal standard is also immediately self-evident.
Kurier (9 April 1997):
Neil Shicoff as Lensky started out mezza voce, with extreme playfulness. But he found, in his big aria, the power that distinguishes him from so many tenors as a downright credible singing actor.
Heinz Rögl, Salzburger Nachtrichten (22 April 1997):
Theatrically, the opera only succeeds in one aria, that of Lensky, and for his fine psychological and vocal delineation, Neil Shicoff justifiably received a minutes-long ovation.
Metropolitan Opera (March 1997)
Opera News (1997):
Neil Shicoff too is a mature singer, but his Lensky showed more romantic concern, while the tenor's vocal resources, during several seasons' absence from the house, have strengthened and deepened.
Terry Teachout, New York Daily News (15 March 1997):
Off Again: Shicoff shines; but rest left un-Met
Shicoff came close to stopping the show with his virile, ardent singing of Lenski's big second-act aria....The cast was mostly good, especially Shicoff, Vladimir Chernov as Onegin and the excellent Michel Seneschal in the cameo of Triquet.
Bernard Holland, The New York Times (15 March 1997):
Mr. Shicoff's return to the Met after a long absence was a celebratory affair. I remember him as a hard and aggressive tenor, but his famous pre-duel soliloquy, sung happily towards the front of the stage, was deeply moving.
Maya Priezker (transl. Peter McClintock), Novoye Russkoye Slovo (3/21/97):
Without exception, the performers were natural and convincingly alive in their roles. You believe this impetuous, nervous, skinny Lensky in glasses (Neil Shicoff, a fantastic tenor, the son of a Brooklyn cantor, who has returned to the American stage after an enforced seven-year stay in Europe, where he, however, successfully continued his operatic career). You live through with him every single moment of his spat with Olga (successful debut of Marianna Tarasova), his fight with Onegin, and you pity him beyond words. Indeed, it is not possible to talk about his vocal interpretation apart from his dramatic one - an ideal that is difficult to achieve on the operatic stage.
La Cieca, Parterre Box (no. 25):
The Met's new Eugene Onegin production was a disappointing but not a disastrous evening; the big event was Neil Shicoff's return to the house, warmly applauded by a capacity audience....Top honors go to Mr. Shicoff. La Cieca has made no secret of the fact she is no fan of this tenor, but she must admit he was in excellent vocal shape tonight. The voice is larger, darker, and more even than it was a decade ago, and he has suppressed most of his "ecole de Corelli" sobs and gulps. He was also on good behavior as an actor, in general not indulging in the hamminess that led me on a previous occasion to call him "Mandy Patinkin's Evil Twin." May the mature and centered Mr. Shicoff stay just that way - the Met is lucky to have him back.
Charles H. Riggs, III, New York Times Forum:
And in Galina Gorchakova's Tatiana and Neil Shicoff's Lenski we were provided with an embarassment of riches....Neil Shicoff possesses a natural beauty of tone rivaled only by Luciano Pavarotti among today's tenors. His first few lines were uncertain, but by the time his first aria to Olga in the first act rolled around he was his old self. In fact, an intermittent hard-driving nasality which he was chronically fighting in his last few years at the Met in the middle and late '80s has been completely cured. The voice is as soft in texture and expressive in timbre as it has ever been. The only sign of age which appeared to be present throughout his performance tonight was the undeniable fact that his high notes do not possess all the power they once did. It is a delight and a joy to have him finally back in the Big Apple, following what must surely be one of the all-time worst divorce fights ever to sabotage this art form.
Opéra de Paris - Palais Garnier (1982)
Charles Pitt, British Opera Diary:
It was left very much to Neil Shicoff to steal the show with a really poetic portrayal of Lensky. Romantic looking, he made a fine thing of his aria before the duel.
Metropolitan Opera (March 1979)
Raymond Ericson, New York Times (23 March 1979):
Lenski was sung for the first time with the company by Neil Shicoff, a young American tenor. His impassioned and impressive singing up through the ball scene in Larina's house put a strain on his rather light voice. But the long aria before his death in the duel with Onegin was sung with a depth of understanding and an artistry that was unforgettable.
James R. Oestrich, New York Times (27 December 1989):
As the operatic tenor Alfred, Eisenstein's rival for his wife's affections, Neil Shicoff embraced the high jinks wholeheartedly...sang well and capitalized particularly on his offstage contributions in the first and third acts.
Die Presse, 27 June 2000:
The performance on Monday improved to some extent over the course of the evening. Naturally, it was in the middle of the evening. Not only the audience, but the singers and musicians seem to have waited for it: "Rachel, quand du Seigneur", Éléazar's showcase aria, the oft-requested concert number from this sometimes truly "grand" opera of Halévy. Neil Shicoff savoured it with the his own great expressive intensity. Yes, he delivered it so spiritually...
Wiener Staatsoper (October-November 1999)
Christopher Norton-Welsh, Opera News (February 2000):
...the Éléazar of Neil Shicoff, in what must be his greatest assumption to date. The tenor fully caught both the character's outer vulnerability and his inner strength fueled by perfect faith, as well as his implacable desire for revenge. Despite being prepared by all that had gone before, and especially by his intense prayer, "O Dieu de nos pères," at the Passover meal, Shicoff's "Rachel, quand du Seigneur" was shattering in its depth of feeling.
Horst Koegler, Stuttgarter Zeitung (3 November 1999):
The focal point and real sensation of the Viennese performance was Neil Shicoff as Éléazar. This is the role of his lifetime. It's Abraham and Shylock rolled into one - a man who says "vengeance is mine, saith the Lord", totally spiritual, with an overwhelming and straightforward faith in God, and a touching sympathy in his treatment of his foster-daughter Rachel. He sings the difficult role with a brilliant, rapturous, slim-line voice, articulated so carefully that each word is comprehensible, and he also manages in his rests to extend the "toneless" music even longer. The audience went wild after his big aria in the fourt hact, conscious that they had experienced a great moment in today's vocal artistry.
I.M.S., Der neue Merker (Nov. 1999 / Vol. 11, #115):
Shicoff was taken by stage director Krämer beyond the body language that he otherwise tends to use. He was able to portray the conflicted character of this malevolent, cruel man (who, in the next moment, can be full of goodness) with economical gestures and an almost tormented inner intensity, completely different from his habitual approach, breaking new ground in Shicoff's dramatic artistry. About this - as about the composer - the opinion of the New York cantor's son was particularly strong, manifesting itself in Shicoff's role-portrait in an almost disturbing way. He achieved total identification with this difficult character, who he could have easily played along Shylock-ish lines. (I mean by this the way Kortner played Shylock.) He sang magnificently, and achieved in this rather heroic role (Slezak was for years Vienna's standard exponent [of the role]) an especially high degree of individual expression, and powerful but always refined, metalically-shining singing. His interpretation of "Rachel, quand du Seigneur" - the main aria of the opera - was delivered simply, on his knees.
Reinhard Kager, Tages Anzeiger (25 October 1999):
In the great scene with Neil Shicoff as Éléazar he avoids what Halévy is often accused of in this opera: creating merely a cariacature of a narrow-minded fundamentalist Jew. Because Shicoff creates an Eleazar torn by the internal conflict between unconditional religious faith and the tender love for his daughter with almost heartrending intensity.
Reinhard Kager, Neue Zeit (October 1999), and reprinted in Musik und Theater (February 2000):
Neil Shicoff sang it ["Rachel, quand du Seigneur"] with almost heartrending intensity, portraying the Jewish protagonist's conflict between his unconditional religious faith and his tender love for his daughter.
Reinhard Kager, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (25 October 1999):
Shicoff, though on the premiere evening not in such brilliant voice as usual, portrayed the internal conflict between Éléazar's unconditional religious faith and his intimate love for his daughter with heart-rending intensity.
Carsten Fastner, Falter (October 1999, #44):
Éléazar is not only the unfortunate innocent victim but also an embittered fanatic who even sacrifices his foster-daughter Rachel for his faith: an ambivalence that is realized vividly by Neil Shicoff; without him the production would need a lot of help.
Gerhard Bauer, Köner Stadt-Auzeiger (25 October 1999):
The Viennese premiere audience's tended to be slightly bored until Shicoff's brilliantly rendered showpiece, "Rachel, quand du Seigneur", transformed the Temple of the Muses into a madhouse.
Irmgard Steiner, Vorarlberger Nachtrichten (25 October 1999)
With an overwhelming vocal and dramatic intepretation, Neil Shicoff shapes the performance. Never has Éléazar's great aria in the last act been experienced with such simplicity and moving truthfulness, yet with such an impressively wise application of glorious tenor resources.
Vorarlberger Nachtrichten (25 October 1999)
Neil Shicoff...rejects every Heldentenor cliché to bring to the stage a figure who is small in stature, spiritual, and quivering with hatred.
George Loomis, MusicalAmerica.com (2 November 1999):
Now the palm is passed to Neil Shicoff, whose Elézar in Vienna ranks as one of his finest achievements. Shicoff has always been able to pour out handsome tone of an intrinsically expressive, even plangent quality. Now the voice has a darker color that fits the enigmatic jeweler ideally, whether in the famous Passover scene or when he taunts his archenemy, the Cardinal Brogni, by claiming to know the whereabouts of his daughter, long presumed dead. Shicoff's gripping "Rachel, quand du Seigneur" won a deserved ovation. But even more important was the pathos his portrayal generated. One Viennese critic grumbled about the modern, "Schindler's List" costumes...but there was something deeply disturbing about witnessing how this frail old man could so easily become the object of mass hatred. SHicoff often had a faraway look that suggested a detachment from his surroundings. And no wonder: like Rigoletto, little matters to him but the love of his daughter and his quest for revenge.
Shirley Apthorp, Opera Now (March/April 2000):
Now Neil Shicoff is the Jew of the title, [ED.: this is incorrect - la Juive is Rachel.] drawing a frenzied response from the Staatsoper audience. Not many could match the intensity of his performance. It's a twisted character who lets his daughter die in boiling oil [ED.: water, not oil] to spite a cardinal, and Shicoff milks the emotional trauma for all it's worth. His voice is not beautiful...but he certainly uses it communicatively.
Helmut Christian Mayer, L'Opera:
The absolute, phenomenal protagonist of the evening was Neil Shicoff. The intensity with which this American singer musically and dramatically interpreted the role of the Jew Éléazar is simply sensational (but then we are by now accustomed to his formidable, always surprising performances). Thus, his love for his daughter Rachel and his violent, terrifying hatred for the Christians were full of expression and verisimilitude, and the displays of his magnificent vocal timbre and expressive voice were almost unbelievable.
H.G. Pribil, Wiener Zeitung (24 or 25 October 1999):
Above all one singer makes the evening: Neil Shicoff in the role of the father, the goldsmith Éléazar. He is everything in one: lyric tenor, Heldentenor, and character singer - and he especially captivates with his charisma. He lives this role, one of the most dazzling and complex father figures in the entire history of opera (it's no wonder that Mahler felt the same way about the opera - and for the same reason). When Shicoff sings his great "Rachel" aria, it takes one's breath away - no matter whether one appreciates "Grand Opera" or not. And he was rewarded by scene-stopping applause lasting several minutes. He gave us thrilling, timeless music-theatre....The opening night audience enjoyed its encounter with the rare opera, La Juive, and celebrated above all Neil Shicoff's Éléazar with long-lasting ovations and with flowers.
Ernst Naredi-Rainer, Kleine Zeitung (25 October 1999):
Vocally, Tenor Neil Shicoff dominated the stage, giving heartwrenching strength to the internal conflict of the Jew Éléazar.
Wilhelm Sinkovicz, Die Presse (25 October 1999):
None of the characters is sympathetic; and public favourite Neil Shicoff, in his big scene in the finale of Act Four, wants to stimulate our tear ducts. Nevertheless, the harried, downtrodden, tortured Jew Éléazar is on the verge of sacrificing his adopted daughter Rachel out of revenge, because the wrongs done to him have made him brittle and unbending. "An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth" is his motto when he is backed into a corner. Because Rachel is not truly his daughter, but that of Cardinal Brogni who, in a moving dialogue with the condemned Jew - sung with overwhelming effect by Alastair Miles and Shicoff - tries to discover where his child, whom he believed to be long-lost, can be found. Only after Rachel surrenders - as a Jewess - to death by [immersion in a vat of] boiling water, does Éléazar break his defiant silence and answer.
D.P.A., Rheinische Post (29 October 1999):
In Éléazar, Brogni's embittered/angry opponent, Neil Shicoff - in excellent voice - finds new developmental possibilities for demonstrating his strengths: lending a charismatic outline to broken tenor heros.
Neues Volksblatt (25 October 1999):
One will never again experience such simplicity and moving honesty in Élézar's big aria in the last act, with such wise, impressive use of the tenor's resources.
Walter Beyer, Oberösterreichische Nachtrichten (25 October 1999):
When an opera singer has intelligence, and possesses the charisma and artistic maturity of a Neil Shicoff, it is a windfall. How he, from the first moment he appears until the heart-wrenching conclusion, brings the destiny of this endlessly humiliated Jew to life in an unrivalled character study. He brings a lump to the throat when he finally - and even understandably - leaves his foster-daughter to the wolves instead of saving her.
Karlheinz Roschitz, Kronentzeitung (25 October 1999):
Neil Shicoff sang the tenor role of the goldsmith Éléazar with fully-burning passion. Vocal refinement, intensity, and character are united in his interpretation.
Kurier (24 October 1999):
The opera engaged an ideal ensemble from which, perhaps unfairly but undeniably, Neil Shicoff stood out as Éléazar.
Franz Endler, Kurier (25 October 1999):
God in Heaven! What an Éléazar - La Juive at the Ring, a triumph for Neil Shicoff
Neil Shicoff, an artist of nearly indescribable greatness, emphasised the Jew's quiet mercilessness in the last act. Shicoff is no longer just a tenor, he is an extraordinary singer who makes of the showcase role a deeply moving personality.
Franz Endler, Kurier (25 October 1999):
Shicoff triumphs.
With his indescribable, restrained fanaticism - with the touching shyness of his paternal love - with strength and tenderness, Neil Shicoff is surely Éléazar the Jew; and sings the part with an intensity surely found in no other singer today.
Peter Vujica, Der Standard (25/26 October 1999):
With his aria in the fourth act, Neil Shicoff rouses the audience to a quite understandable rage. He is not only a great singer, whose unmistakable timbre is impossible to forget, he is also an actor of near-demonic intensity. The Jewish goldsmith Éléazar's psychological duels with God, with his adopted daughter Rachel - the "Jewess" of the opera's title - and above all Rachel's natural father, Cardinal Brogni - who he defeats - are breathtaking and electrifying.
Kurier:
Shicoff is not just a tenor, he is an extraordinary singer who turns a showpiece role into a heart-wrenching personality. The ovation he received at the end was indescribable....
Heinz Sichrovsky, Scene/News (1999, #43):
Neil Shicoff's Élé reaches undreamt-of heights of emotion and veracity.
Derek Weber, Salzburger Nachtrichten (25 October 1999):
Above all Neil Shicoff as Élé, who as a singer-actor shows convincingly the conflict of a man whose must send his assumed daughter Rachel to her death (she is in reality the daughter of Cardinal Brogni, saved from a fire), because the hatred of the Christians leaves him no other choice.
Jürg Stenzl, Berliner Zeitung (26 October 1999):
Much rejoicing for Neil Shicoff.
W. Kutzschbach, Das Opernglas (December 1999):
Musically, the performance stood and fell with Neil Shicoff as Éléazar who, with it has developed a brilliant role. His technical perfection, role identification, and brilliant singing combined into a masterful performance, an evening no-one should miss. Whether as father or clever businessman, driven by vengeance or martyrdom: in all these facets, the famous opera singer was deeply convincing. The Pesach supper in Act II, and above all Éléazar's big solo scene in Act Four, were overwhelming proof of the fascination of music-theatre.
Manuel Brug, Die Welt (25 or 26 October 1999):
Above all is the vocal agitation, the attitude of intensity when fighting Soile Isokoski's Rachel, of Neil Shicoff, the only tenor today who remains an artist. In the Caruso role of Éléazar is all the bitterness and biting disapproval of an infuriated Ahasver [the Wandering Jew], swept up by the Furies of Antisemitism. Then, in the famous aria "Rachel quand du Seigneur", he seems only a broken old Jew, in despair over whether to rescue his Christian stepdaughter, or follow her into death. As Shicoff plays it, sings it, lives it - it is one of those rare moments that can sometimes still be found in great opera today.
Reinhard Kager, Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung (October 1999):
Shicoff, singing as brilliantly as ever in this prèmiere, conveys Éléazar's internal conflict between unconditional religious devotion and tender love for his daughter with heart-rending intensity.
Peter Hagmann, Neue Zürcher Zeitung (30 October 1999):
Éléazar despairs of the conflict between his hatred for the Christians and the Inquisition and wondering if he should leave his foster daughter to them and, by relinquishing his identity, save their lives - a conflict to which Tenor Neil Shicoff, particularly in his great Act IV aria, gives extraordinarily moving musical expression.
Clemens Prokob, Süddeutsche Zeitung (25 October 1999):
The two worlds on stage remain clearly distinct until the fourth act. Then the evil Christians recede into the deep blackness, and the lower level becomes the bright prison cell. Now it becomes clear why Neil Shicoff is the ideal Éléazar: his hatred, until then less credible throughout all the tremendous plot developments, is suddenly illuminated by his great lamentation of Evil and the harsh accusations that have dealt him such a deadly blow. Shicoff brings no thunderous words to his lips. Instead, he refashions Caruso's favourite role, generating a deep compassion, like a bird whose wings have been broken, while leaving no room for sentimentality.
Sergio Segalini, Opéra (December 1999):
The admirable Neil Shicoff, in his turn, who made the public indescribably delirious with his "Rachel, quand du Seigneur", can arouse debate. The romantic tenor, by definition, must posess a large voice and be powerful in the medium: however Shicoff, since his famous Werther at Aix-en-Provence, in 1979, which launched his international career, is a superb lirico. The triumph of his Éléazar, uncontestable and well-deserved, is thus that of an artist with incomparable phrasing, attentive to the slightest nuance, totally invested in the persecuted character, as he is in Werther, Don Carlos, Hoffmann.... We have heard "Rachel, quand du Seigneur" sung more energetically, more authoritatively, but never so scrupulously, with such elegance and refinement, not to mention the famous - and frightening! - cabaletta, in which Shicoff is today unrivaled. Given all this, how can one not be reminded of the very long review, published in Le Courrier français on 27 February 1835? "Never has Nourrit acted with more heart, or sung with more perfection."
Birgit Popp, Opera Notes (1999):
The success of the evening was owed, without a doubt, to Neil Shicoff, who sang his Éléazar with unbelievable intensity. He embodied perfectly and cleverly the character of the conflicted father who cannot choose between filial love and religious faith. Grandiose in his aria ' Rachel, quand du Seigneur', with his fully expressive lyric voice and sensitive acting, the American tenor's depiction of the pain and doubt of father preparing for death left no-one unmoved.
Michael Beetz, Das Opernarchiv:
Outstanding singers and an outstanding emotional tenor. This shining star is called Neil Shicoff and delivered a dazzling performance which is beyond description. His big aria in Act Four was a demonstration of singing and vocal perfection, an interpretation which lacked nothing. After such an evening, one must breathe deeply and hope just as deeply that Shicoff remains in the opera world for a long time yet.
Oberösterreichische Nachtrichten (3 May 1995):
This [Shicoff] has to be the most persuasive actor among the great tenors of the present day, able to invest life into this often rather lifeless role, creating a true victim of Fate.
M.C.E., L'Opera (July/August 1999):
The great triumph of the evening was tenor Neil Shicoff in the role of Rodolfo. The American singer has long been accused of a certain tendency to always sing forte, and seemingly to deny the accusation, Shicoff boasted on this occasion an almost perfect vocal line and an admirable variety in dynamics. No surprise, then, that after the celebrated "Quando le sere al placido"...the room burst into a stunning ovation.
Heiner Lajos, Café Momus (14 May 1999):
Shicoff today is one of the leading tenors, if not the leading tenor in the French and Italian and French opera repertoire. He opened this season in Vienna in the leading role of Ernani. Next season he will open La Juive as Éléazar (the Jewish goldsmith). His voice is healthy and in good condition, although lacking the Mediterranean colour of Pavarotti's and Domingo's. (thanks to Thomas Broderick's coach and her husband, and to Frank, Kálmán, and Eva for their translations from the Hungarian)
Geneva Opera (27 March 1993)
Opera News (April 1993):
Kallen Esperian...splendidly partnered by tenor Neil Shicoff's ardent Rodolfo, also in magnificent voice. Their death scene, spread over several levels of the set, proved extremely effective.
Peter G. Davis, New York Times (31 Mar 1981):
Neil Shicoff sang Macduff's aria splendidly despite his broken wrist, an accident sustained during rehearsals.
Neil Shicoff identifies himself with the figure in a way that is not only unusual but totally singular in present-day opera productions. The range of his voice covers effortlessly both the soft and brutal parts of his character. He is not only a tenor, a singer - he is a man who suffers and is able to transmit his desperations to a thrilled and fascinated audience. (source of comment unknown)
Wiener Staatsoper (November 1998)
Gerhard Kramer, Das Presse (19 November 1998):
Neil Shicoff as Peter Grimes: this means nothing less than the ideal case of a perfect fusion between interpreter and role. Inconceivable that any singer before has more intensely and convincingly imagined himself into the psyche of this outcast of society, into his neurotic compulsions and his secret longings for affection, while at the same time meeting the vocal demands of the part with such perfect technique, filling the role with such a passion. And, by the same token, Shicoff surely found a role in which he can invest his particular talents, his affinity for unstable characters as well as his uniquely-timbred tenor voice.
Hamburgische Staatsoper (May 1998)
Die Welt (18 May 1998):
The American tenor star, Neil Shicoff, who had already portrayed Grimes in Vienna with great success, recreated in Hamburg the sounds and gestures of Grimes' failure and agony. A more intensely expressive performance is hardly conceivable. Shicoff, like his (and Britten's) alter ego Peter Grimes, sang and acted this morally-blunted anti-hero with almost dangerous self-identification. In recognition, the audience applauded jubilantly his outstanding performance.
Birgit Popp, Opera Active (1998):
In both Britten's and Neil Shicoff's visions, Peter Grimes wavers between aggressiveness, uncertainty, and compassion. He feels contempt for his fellow men while simultaneously longing for their acknowledgment. He is haunted by visions and daydreams of a better life. Considering his fellow men cunning creatures, he sees himself as different, alienated from other human beings as he struggles uncompromisingly to exist as an individual apart from the masses. Neil Shicoff rose to the challenge with his singing and acting. He delivered a moving - deeply moving - and psychologically convincing performance, which was deservedly endowed with continuous applause.
Wiener Staatsoper (February 1996)
Peter Blaha, Das Opernglas (April 1996):
Benjamin Britten's Peter Grimes at the Vienna State Opera was an undisputed success, the greatest so far during Director Ioan Holender's term of office. This success is thanks primarily to two artists: director Christine Mielitz, and Neil Shicoff in the title role....But the sensation of the production remained Neil Shicoff in the title role. Strictly speaking, it was his evening, his very personal triumph, which will probably now catapult him to the top. No other tenor at present has as much vocal energy or charisma as an actor as he does. His musicality, his intelligence, and his artistic sense of responsibility are connected with everything that he does, in a singular synthesis. And in the dark Peter Grimes, has he gained a role as a conflicted character which suits him ideally, and which found its ideal representative in him. He expressed this not only with his unmistakable voice, but also with the intensity of his dramatically-accented tonal commitment, which was never forced or overworked. And when he acted, he was Peter grimes, in each motion, each gesture, each grand movement.
Reinhard Kager, Tages Anzeiger (17 February 1996):
Neil Shicoff literally lives this contradiction onstage and shows, thanks to his great dramatic abilities, how a naturally easy-going, mild-mannered character can, from desperation, descend into cruel brutality. Also by means of the voice, the American tenor who, along with the supremely musically choreographed State Opera Chorus, is the central figure of this thrilling evening. In creating the ambivalence of Grimes, he sang soft-as-silk cantilenas, only to abruptly turn around and again erupt into angry drama which, in terms of tenor power, lacked nothing.
Christopher Norton-Welsh, Opera News (12 February 1996):
Neil Shicoff, our best Don José and Turiddù above all, sang Peter Grimes with great personality and perfect honesty.
Manuel Brug, Tagesspiegel (February 1996):
Thus the main weight of the evening sits on the narrow shoulders of Neil Shicoff. He is splendid as the nervously flitting, flexible tenor anti-hero who is neither good nor bad. No vocal heavyweight, but one who fights for reputation, existence, and life in dramatically-weighted tones, and who is finally driven out into a watery grave.
Kurier (14 February 1996):
Neil Shicoff was a splendid Grimes - visionary, madman and rough sailor.
Desmond Shawe-Taylor, British Opera Diary:
Neil Shicoff contrived to salvage something of the Duke's insouciant charm.
Welsh National Opera, Cardiff (9 Sep 1977)
Kenneth Loveland, British Opera Diary:
One evening later, and there were further grounds for cheers in the British debut of Neil Shicoff, the American tenor, as the Duke of Mantua, a role which he is to sing at New York's Metropolitan.... This was a most stylish performance, elegant and relaxed where need be, dashing to the point of arrogance elsewhere. In fact, a telling examination of a complex character through musical awareness, and showing how the variety of Verdi's theatrical genius is reflected in this role when it is not treated simply as tenor fodder.
Metropolitan Opera (Nov/Dec 1977)
Peter G. Davis, New York Times (2 Dec 1977):
The Metropolitan Opera clearly has high hopes for Neil Shicoff, a 28-year-old tenor who made a promising debut last season in Gianni Schicchi. He has already been given his first leading assignment with the company, as the Duke in Rigoletto, and Wednesday night he made his second appearance in the role. Mr. Shicoff seems to possess all of the raw material for tenor stardom. His voice is one of nature's own, retaining a smoothly produced, even textural beauty throughout its range, capped by brightly ringing top notes guaranteed to stir an audience to cheers. Furthermore, he cuts a handsome, dashing figure - here is a licentious, spoiled young rake who looks every inch the part. Mr. Shicoff's talents are not surprisingly still in the development stage at this point in his career. His treatment of the vocal line showed only a modest amount of grace or innate musical awareness, and his aprehension of style, while obviously closely studied, gave the impression of something pasted on, rather than emerging spontaneously. He never sang or acted with anything less than total assurance, but there was a self-congratulatory air about his performance that seemed excessive, even for the Duke. Mr. Shicoff clearly has what it takes to be an important singer; with guidance and seasoning, he may well become one.
Christopher Norton-Welsh, Opera News (April 2002):
Roméo was Neil Shicoff, in tireless form, coping with the difficult tessitura fearlessly; the tenderness of his soliloquy at the end of Act II was particularly admirable.
Ljubisa Tosic, Der Standard (24 December 2001):
Neil Shicoff is always reliable as a man in pain. He adorns the deeply moving intensity [of is performance] with a strong, secure vocal radiance (in music that is occasionally in the very light Gounod fach).
Ulrich Weinzierl, Die Welt (24 December 2001):
Neil Shicoff, the great interpreter of conflicted, neurotic characters, sang a supremely refined, melancholy, dark Roméo.
Metropolitan Opera(January 1986)
Tim Page, New York Times (11 January 1986):
Mr. Shicoff, whose voice might be described as a beautiful, unusually baritonal lyric tenor, sang with ardor and lyricism, although he seemed slightly taxed in heroic passages. Still, his "Ah, lève-toi soleil" was the evening's musical highlight.
Raymond Ericson, New York Times (17 Oct 1976):
Mr. Shicoff, a New Yorker and graduate of the Juilliard School, made an appealingly ardent and athletic Rinuccio. The tenor has a fine voice, but he worked too hard at his singing, perhaps in the mistaken notion that a more relaxed style wouldn't be effective.
Ralf Tiedemann, Das Opernglas (June 1998):
Animated by a high-class performance, the festive audience (which had come from all over) celebrated the protagonists. First and foremost, at the center of the jubilation stood Neil Shicoff's arresting performance. Vocally in extremely good form, he still held himself back at various appropriate moments, holding something in reserve for his great outbursts. But this economy of effort happened at such a generally high level that in no scene did his performance actually suffer. And in his moments of total vocal outpuring, his portrayal displayed the emotional brilliance that makes any evening with this tenor unforgettable. His acting enables him to be truly convincing, with strong expressiveness shining through.
Teatro alla Scala, Milan (1997)
Paolo Isotta, Corriere della Sera (6 Luglio 1997):
Neil Shicoff (Cavaradossi) si impegna ultra vires: le quali, come è noto, non sono moltissime: ma merita il riconoscimento, e gli acuti schiacciati o stimbrati (quel La diesis!) sono ormai clausola di stile nella prestazione di quasi ogni tenore.
Opernhaus Zürich (September 1994)
Hans Uli von Erlach, Blick (3 September 1994):
Even more applauded was tenor Neil Shicoff as Cavaradossi: Vocally and dramatically agile and almost meltingly sweet, he played the doomed hero with a breathtaking humanity which is Shicoff's specialty.
Wiener Staatsoper (January 1992)
Clemens Höslinger, Kurier (10 January 1992):
And Neil Shicoff, for the first time as Cavaradossi at the Staatsoper, conceives - as is always the case with this detail-oriented, pithy artist - an unusual spin on the role. Stressing more the idealistic dreamer than the courageous fighter for liberty and justice, he brings this often-stereotyped figure closer to the poet Lensky in Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin. In the earlier scenes, all showy tenor, in the crucial moments he called on his great vocal development, and was most touching in the near-visionary conception of the final scene.
Los Angeles Music Center Opera (6 September 1989)
Martin Bernheimer, Opera Magazine (November 1989):
Maria Ewing in the title role triumphed over another potential case of anti-type casting....Neil Shicoff complemented her as a sympathetic, bright-toned Cavaradossi who occasionally wanted to make bigger tenor-sounds than wisdom might dictate.
Donna Perlmutter, Opera News (9 December 1989):
...Neil Shicoff, a non-blustering Cavaradossi who held a few notes too long, but one didn't care, in light of his gorgeous tone, subtle Italianate cry, and elegant vocal production.
Beate Kayser, source unknown (30 November 1981):
Neil Shicoff as Alfred does not rely on his advantages - sleek good looks and easily produced, softly and beautifully timbred tenor voice. He ignites the role of the young lover with a mixture of shyness and fire, infusing it with enough verve and acting talent to be a worthy partner for the entrancing Ileana Cotrubas in the title role.
Helmut Lesch, source unknown (November 1981):
Neil Shicoff as Alfredo, as an actor a stroke of luck....
W.S., Süddeutsch Zeitung (No. 276, 12 November 1981):
In Ileana Cotrubas, Neil Shicoff, and Piero Cappuccilli the performance possessed ideal singing actors, allowing a convincing process of identification.
Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich (January 1981)
Marianne Reißinger, source unknown:
Also in the smallest role in the well-cast ensemble is Neil Shicoff as Alfredo Germont. Parisian beau from head to toe, with his radiant tenor resting on a grand foundation, Shicoff is the ideal Italian operatic lover.
Freeman Günter, The Classical Singer (7 January 2001):
Others have honked out Manrico's music louder than Shicoff, but I've never heard anyone sing it more cleanly, giving meaning and accuracy to all of the trills and subtle markings that tenors usually ignore or gloss over. Shicoff's Manrico was poetry itself, a living, suffering man, and he deeply moved me where others have only astonished. For once, the opera really was about the Troubadour and I thought he was magnificent.
Melvin Rosenberg, Opera News "Standing Room" forum (7 January 2001):
I heard a reborn Shicoff, whom I personally found distasteful two decades back, but who has finally reach a level of artistry that earns him the right to be at the top of the Met tenor roster for what ever remains of his "second" career.
Metropolitan Opera (December 2000)
Martin Bernheimer, The Financial Times (15 December 2000):
Neil Shicoff, the slender tenor who undertook the title role...sang, however, with considerable brilliance and point, even grace under pressure.
Heidi Waleson, The Wall Street Journal (14 December 2000):
His ringing dramatic tenor never faltered, and while a few vocal subtleties were missing, his melting performance of "Ah si, ben mio", a love song to Leonora, blocked out the absurdities of the production for a happy moment.
Anthony Tommasini, New York Times (9 December 2000):
Mr. Shicoff valiantly persevered and did some impressive singing. When his throat clears up he should sound splendid.
Associated Press, reprinted in New York Times and New York Post (8 December 2000):
Of the men, tenor Neil Shicoff did surprisingly well considering he was recovering from a flu bug that kept him out of the final dress rehearsal. His voice grew stronger as the night wore on, though he seemed ill-at-ease performing acrobatic maneuvers on the sets.
Raphael Mostel, The Forward (29 December 2000):
...Neil Shicoff, one of the outstanding tenors of his generation...proved himself worthy: even though not quite recovered from a cold, he sang magnificently....Mr. Shicoff knows about ghosts, or at least gilgul (Jewish tradition is more precise about such things than the English language). He has spoken frequently about feeling, even smelling, the presence of his father during performances and at critical moments of his life. Mr. Shicoff has also spoken of "channeling" the souls of Holocaust victims in his triumphant Vienna performance recently as Éléazar in Halévy's La Juive. The Met will bring that performance to New York in 2003 in one of the other new productions planned for Mr. Shicoff, whose last appearance at the Met, in 1991, ended a run of 15 years. He is now 52 and living in Vienna with his second wife, Dawn Kotoski, and their son, Alexander. Ghosts aside, Mr. Shicoff is a worthy contender to the historic mantle of such past Met tenor greats with Jewish cantorial roots as Richard Tucker, Robert Merrill, and Jan Peerce.Zürich Opernhaus (23 November 1996)
Dr. Martin W. Essinger, Das Opernglas (February 1997):
Also, with the voices, [the production] relied less on vocal "heavyweights" than on lyrical singing. Especially Neil Shicoff, in the role of the Manrico, knew to convince through his enormously musical sovereignty. The great lyrical passages were well-balanced and secure in their vocal structure, and also had the necessary height, sustained with a metallic brilliance that lacked nothing, making one forget again and again that Manrico is a role at the absolute border of his fach. But he left no doubt that he was in exactly the right place, for he played the role so passionately and impressively, and entirely without the role's too-familiar hero-pose.
Guy Lang, Blick (25 November 1996):
Neil Shicoff held back itself before the break, then switched on. His role debut was convincing; he sang a lighter-voiced, intelligently portrayed Manrico.
WERTHER
Neil Shicoff, Opera News (18 March 1989):
I identify so closely with this particular character, who becomes obsessed with something he cannot have. He constantly fights the dark side of himself. To some extent he's masochistic. When Charlotte talks about her duty to Albert, he doesn't want to hear it. The more he knows he can't have her, the more he has to have her. Werther and Hoffmann are my two favorite roles. They're both so high strung and neurotic. They make me dig down deep inside and pull out all that angst. My manager, Herbert Breslin, came backstage once after a performance and said, 'I wish you could bring all your roles up to the level of Hoffmann.' But it's no coincidence if I'm good in a part - it's usually because it strikes a very personal chord....It's not Verdi or Wagner, so many of the top echelon [of conductors] won't touch it. But for me, it's incredible - a personal friend.Metropolitan Opera (March 1989)
Julian West, The Tech (17 March 1989):
Masterful tenor and fanciful sets rescue Met's sterile Werther
It was only when Shicoff was left alone on stage that the production really soared. Shicoff has in recent seasons become a major presence at the Met, with roles including Hoffmann and Don Carlo. He also makes a splendid Werther. After his first aria "Je ne sais si je veille" the audience knew they were in for a good evening of singing. Shicoff went from strength to strength: "Un autre est son d'epoux!" was sorrowful and soul-searching, and his reading of Ossian's poem was pleading and wrenchingly beautiful....the evening was well worth it for Shicoff's singing alone.
Opernhaus Zürich (March 1981)
Neue Züricher Zeitung (18 Mar 1981):
Neil Shicoff was...a Werther of remarkable vocal polish and dramatic flexibility.
Metropolitan Opera (Oct 1979)
Peter G. Davis, New York Times (8 Oct 1979):
Tatiana Troyanos and Neil Shicoff assumed the roles, both for the first time with the company, and the presence of two such personable, fresh-voiced singers automatically put a stamp of youthful ardor and impetuosity on the work....In purely visual terms, Mr. Shicoff presented the ideal picture of a moody, oversensitive young poet obsessively and hopelessly in love....Of course, Mr. Shicoff has a lovely voice, a perfect Werther voice, in fact, pliable, smooth as silk and attractively colored if a bit too covered to ring out in the big climaxes. He paces himself intelligently, phrases with care and puts the general vocal outline of the role into a sensible perspective.
Festival de Aix-en-Provence (21 July 1979)
British Opera Diary:
The great joy of this performance was Neil Shicoff's singing of Werther. He has a healthy, gloriously timbred lyric tenor which he uses excitingly and with great conviction. He has an elegant way with French.... He certainly has the physique du rôle and after this, his first appearance in France, he is obviously set to become a great favourite with the French public.
Matthias Exner, Orpheus (May 1999):
Neil Shicoff, heard here for the first time as Luigi, sang with a passion that was hardly restrained by the concert podium, and with a heart-wrenching sob in his voice, as with his great "loser" roles.
Gala Concert, Prinzregententheater, Munich (20 July 2001)
Anton Sergl, Süddeutsche Zeitung (26 July 2001):
Neil Shicoff, Great Tragedian The make-up appointment for the gala concert with Neil Shicoff was scheduled for nine o'clock. The Prinzregententheater was fully booked. In Munich, Shicoff was once the best Alfredo in Kleiber's unforgettable Traviata. As Werther, he trumped Domingo, Carreras, and Alfredo Kraus on the stage of the national theater. But the American tenor was also always difficult. Shicoff inspired fear in rehearsals - as did his nerves in opera company offices. Still Shicoff commands an evenly-timbred [vocal] power and equally powerful yet tender high notes. And yet Shicoff expends unheard-of effort on each decrescendo if the music and dramatic situation require it. The mezza-voce could become hollow and precariously fragile, resulting in some [vocal] tightrope-walking, particularly in the three Verdi cavatinas in the first part of the concert. Shicoff wouldn't be such an exceptional musician if he were not conscious of this. On stage, he has long excelled at character roles like Peter Grimes or Éléazar in Halévy's La Juive, with which he moved the austere Vienna audience to tears. With the Éléazar aria, "Rachel, quand du Seigneur", Shicoff also ended his Munich concert program impressively. There emerged from the phrasing and the words, with their lamenting pathos, more of the genuine tragedian whose power as an interpreter Shicoff cannot fully bring into play in concert. Unlike too many of his colleagues, he is a true singer-actor....Frenetic jubilation for Shicoff, sweetened by the two Cavaradossi arias from Tosca. Only the "Vittoria" high C was missing.
George London Foundation Recital, New York City (19 November 2000)
Phil Anson, La Scena Musicale (19 November 2000):
The GLF 2000-2001 season opened on Nov. 19 with a thrilling recital by American tenor Neil Shicoff and Canadian soprano Alexandra Deshorties. Shicoff has recently returned to New York after several years abroad. He has appeared at the Met in Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin and Offenbach's Tales of Hoffman, and was the subject of a fascinating recent Opera News feature article. The GLF recital was a rare chance to hear Shicoff live and up close. He sang several opera arias, including his signature roles of Lensky from Eugene Onegin and Éléazar from La Juive (when will the Met stage this for him?). Both arias were rivetingly sung and acted. Shicoff always gives 150%, fully inhabiting his part, and conveying the layered emotions with method acting intensity. After his last aria, the soft-spoken tenor thanked the GLF for giving him an award back in 1974. He obviously meant it.
Advent Concert, Vienna (December 1998)
Gerhard Kramer, Das Presse (9 December 1998):
It was...very simply the unconditional greatness of his artistry that enabled the overwhelming singer Neil Shicoff to endow vocal newness on his self-expressive, perfect effort, despite having just overcome illness, and despite his imminent Staatsoper premiere - with emotional intensity, nuance, vocal freshness, and depth of feeling, he sang Lenski's aria from Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin, which alone would have made the morning worthwhile.
Vienna Opera Gala (2 March 1998)
Heinz Rögl, Salzburger Nachtrichten (4 March 1998):
Neil Shicoff doesn't belong to "The Three Tenors," but he is today the tenor whose Cavaradossi gives one goosebumps.
Das Presse (4 March 1998):
Neil Shicoff presented himself as a friend of Puccini, comprehending and luxuriating deliciously in Cavaradossi's arching Verismo line. To the great delight of his supporters, he savoured his high notes, stiring up their jubilation to the very end.
Metropolitan Opera Gala (May 1997)
Anthony Tommasini, The New York Times (12 May 1997):
The Welsh bass-baritone Bryn Terfel and the American tenor Neil Shicoff are poised to make major artistic contributions to the Met in the near future. Their demanding program provided enticing hints of what's to come....Mr. Shicoff is back at the Met this spring after complications from a protracted divorce kept him out of the country for seven years. The audience greeted him like a long-lost favorite son. In arias from Tosca and The Tales of Hoffmann, his warm, ringing voice sounded more vibrant than ever. With Mr. Terfel, he sang the great duet from La Forza del Destino radiantly. Where was Mr. Shicoff when Luciano Pavarotti precipitously pulled out of the Met's production this year? With Mr. Terfel, he also sang a tormented scene from Peter Grimes, a role Mr. Shicoff identifies with deeply. Though he must work harder at his English diction, his performance was searing. But he may have unleashed too much intensity, for when he returned to sing Manrico's Act III scene from Il Trovatore, his voice was shaky. Yet, as cries of the chorus urged him on to the final high C in "Di quella pira", he bucked up his courage and let it fly triumphantly. There were also beautifully sung duets from Bizet's The Pearl Fishers and Verdi's Don Carlo.
Salzburger Österfestspiele: Verdi's Requiem (April 1995)
Oberösterreichische Nachtrichten (11 April 1995):
Neil Shicoff's "Ingemisco"...was absolutely beautiful.
Ira Siff, Opera News (April 2002):
The role of Aroldo is tailored perfectly to the considerable gifts of Neil Shicoff. Shicoff is in beautiful form here, his passionate, committed delivery adding credibility to some implausible dramatic situations. Aroldo's Act I narrative, "Sotto il sol di Siria ardente," relating to his wife, Mina, how her image sustained him during the Crusades, and its contrasting cabaletta, "Non sai che la sua perdita," delivered when he notices that Mina's wedding ring is missing, afford Shicoff an ideal opportunity for his fervent yet elegant vocalism. His trademark intensity never lets up, nor does the excellence of his singing. Suspecting his wife's infidelity, Aroldo chooses to tell his admirers a story of marital betrayal witnessed in Palestine, rather than battle adventures, and it is chillingly read.
IL TABARRO (EMI CD 5 56587 2)
George Jellinek, Opera News (August 1999):
Neil Shicoff makes Luigi's ardor and impulsiveness believable.
F.F., Scherzo (1999):
Shicoff gets into the skin of his robust, enthusiastic character....
Norbert Christen, Rondo (February 1999):
The powerful expressiveness with which Neil Shicoff hurls out Luigi's cri du coeur makes one forget that his timbre is sometimes less than "Italianate".
John von Rhein, Chicago Tribune (13 June 1999):
The soloists are a good if somewhat mixed bag. In "Tabarro," Maria Guleghina is a passionate Giorgetta, Neil Shicoff a satisfying Luigi.
Kurier (28 February 1999):
Maria Guleghina and Carlo Guelfi, and above all Neil Shicoff with his tenor intensity, are ideally cast in the three main roles.
Nicola Salmoiraghi, L'Opera (May 1999):
Very interesting, also, the performance of Neil Shicoff as Luigi. The flowing vocality of the American tenor, always taut to the point of anguish, which sometimes compromises the stability of his intonation, marks this character with absolutely modern neurotic tension and a remarkable dramatic impact, if this term can be applied to a recording. An interpretation subject to debate, perhaps, but one that does not leave you indifferent.
Ian Lace, Music on the Web (April 1999):
Guleghina and Shicoff (as Luigi, Giorgetta's doomed lover) are also well cast and convincing...
THE PUCCINI ALBUM (Philips 456 586-2)
Stanley Peskin, Financial Mail (16 October 1998):
Shicoff is far from a bloodless Cavaradossi (his two arias are finely sung).
Herbert Hiess, Evolver Musik:
Shicoff is a fantastic Cavaradossi, while Gorchakova delivers a considerable Tosca. She has a very beautiful, albeit cold voice with an impersonal timbre. Nevertheless the pair achieve a grandiose drama.
Kurier (15 December 1998):
Neil Shicoff, who the Viennese consider the most exciting tenor of the present day, conveys his stage presence 100% when singing with Galina Gorchakova from Tosca and Manon Lescaut. One is transported by his intensity on The Puccini Album.
Kurier (8 November 1998):
Above all, Shicoff is great. His singing demonstrates interest and passion, his tenor dazzling in its power and brightness, his portrayal of characters is so sensitive, it does not need the visual aspect. With this recording, Shicoff has finally outdistanced two of the great "Three Tenors".
LUCIA DI LAMMERMOOR (Teldec 0630-13803-2)
Barrymore Lawrence Scherer, Opera News (23 March 1993):
Despite minor flaws, this very well could be a Lucia for the cognoscenti. Not only is it well cast, but the performance is distinguished by musicianship and loving care....Neil Shicoff is a fine Edgardo for the feeling he imparts.
Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs
Neil Shicoff as Edgardo sings strongly.
JPC Music:
Neil Shicoff is a singer whose jerky nervousness and radiant voice express a rich inner life much more that do the "beautiful" voices of other tenors.
EUGENE ONEGIN (Philips 438 235-2PH2)
Rough Guide to Opera:
Neil Shicoff - in his second recording as Lensky - shows himself to be one of the most unfairly neglected talents of the Pavarotti generation.
EUGENE ONEGIN (Deutsche Grammophon DG 423 959-2GH2)
Rough Guide to Opera:
Neil Shicoff as Lensky is a dream as well, accentuating the insecurities of his character in keeping with the overall tone of this [James Levine's] fraught interpretation.
Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs:
The tautened-nerves quality in the character Lensky comes out vividly in the portrayal by Neil Shicoff.
RIGOLETTO (Philips 412 592-2 or 462 158-2)
Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs:
Even more remarkable is the brilliant success of Neil Shicoff as the Duke, more than a match for his most distinguished rivals. Here the Quartet becomes a genuine climax as it rarely has been in complete recordings. Like the others, Shicoff brings out unexpected detail...sharply unconventional but vocally most satisfying.
Rough Guide to Classical Music:
...the under-rated American tenor Neil Shicoff in glowing form as the Duke...
ATTILA (EMI CDS749952-2)
Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs:
Neil Shicoff sings strongly in the tenor role of Foresto.
LES CONTES D'HOFFMANN (EMI CDS 7 49641)
Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs:
Neil Shicoff as Hoffmann makes a confident Domingo-substitute (often sounding very much like that model).
Geoffrey Riggs, "The Collector's Guide to Opera Recordings and Videos":
Shicoff's interpretation of the title role is the only one, IMO, to surpass the ubiquitous Jobin; Shicoff's contribution is worth the entire set; superb.
MACBETH (Philips 412 592-2 or 462 158-2)
Penguin Guide to Opera on Compact Discs:
Neil Shicoff as Macduff and Robert Lloyd as Banquo make up the excellent quartet of principals.
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