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10This opera and Warner’s production show very clearly Otello’s descent into jealous madness, contrasted with the jubilant scenes at the start, where the wonderful movement among the actors forms a prelude to his victorious arrival after defeating the Saracens in the eastern Mediterranean.
Keith Warner’s 2017 production at London’s Royal Opera House, now revived, takes us beyond these shores into the darkest corners of Otello’s tower. Gregory Kunde sings the titular role of Otello. He steps into Jonas Kaufmann’s shoes. No easy task. But Kunde has become a familiar face at the ROH, performing three times in as many years since his 2016 debut. And he can clearly hold his own.
He was widely admired as the grand old man of Italian opera but had not produced a new work since Aida some 15 years earlier. Yet Otello features some of his most powerful music, bursting with impressive originality and energy. With a very strong cast and Antonio Pappano conducting, Covent Garden does glorious justice to this fine work.
It’s good to have expectations confounded. For much of his career, American tenor Gregory Kunde specialised in bel canto repertoire, his light, flexible voice ideal for Rossini with easy top notes that also meant he could tackle Berlioz’ stratospheric tenor roles like Énée and Benvenuto Cellini with distinction. In recent years though, Kunde has taken an unexpected lurch into heavier repertoire. I was unconvinced by his Manrico and approached his Otello in this first revival of Keith Warner’s production at The Royal Opera with trepidation, having missed him when he played second fiddle to Jonas Kaufmann in 2017.
Vratogna is in total command, vocally and dramatically, ever alert to the sinuous subtleties of Verdi’s most flexible score, dark and menacing, and ruthless in his racist determination to destroy his man. He knows instinctively that all devious schemers can present a plausible face to the world while sowing seeds of doubt in malleable minds. Vratogna took over the role just three weeks ago (just as he stepped in as Scarpia three years ago) and it was he, not Kaufmann, who drew and deserved the greatest ovation on opening night.That storm scene introduces another character to the piece in this new production: the set itself. Designer Boris Kudlička has built a clever, shape-shifting tunnel that fragments and slides, lit starkly by Bruno Poet to emphasise Otello’s descent into jealous madness, or bathed in soft, golden hues when hidden rooms and courtyards are revealed behind attractive Moorish tracery. The set both brilliantly frames and comments on the drama, and is suitably ambiguous for a production that consciously moves away from the realism of Moshinsky’s Renaissance world towards an expressionism that more closely reflects Verdi’s most daringly fluid score.The Italian soprano Maria Agresta makes an implacable Desdemona, devastated yet dignified in the face of Otello’s false accusations of adultery and singing with a tender yet creamy intensity, never more so than in Piangea cantando nell’erma landa and her heartfelt Ave Maria, moments before her demise. The Canadian tenor Frédéric Antoun is a lithely elegant Cassio, and among the smaller roles, Estonian mezzo Kai Rüütel as Emilia and Korean bass In Sung Sim really make their mark.
In the letter scene of Yevgeny Onegin, Tatyana asks ‘who are you? My guardian angel or a wily tempter?’. This line appears to be a starting point for Mariusz Treliński’s 2002 staging of the work, revived tonight at Warsaw’s Teatr Wielki – Opera Narodowa. Our first image of the evening is a ghoulish figure, perambulating around the apron at the front of the stage. He reappears frequently, interacting with Tatyana during the letter scene or at other times being sighted at the back of the stage. Later, he appears mourning Lensky after the duel or dancing briefly with Tatyana during her name day party. This idea of reflection on younger days is a most pertinent one and feels true to a vision of the work founded on the reflection that comes with loss and those ever-present questions of what might have been. Treliński puts a lot of the weight of the show on the shoulders of his singers, particularly in the first few scenes. His stage pictures at the Larin estate are sparse, a claustrophobic environment where there’s limited interaction with outsiders – the sparseness goes as far as cutting the opening peasants’ chorus. It did feel to an extent that the evening took a while to take wing. Anna Nechaeva’s letter scene was beautifully vocalized, but felt somewhat anonymous dramatically and interpretatively, perhaps as a result of her focusing on interaction with the ghostly figure; partly also due to Andriy Yurkevych’s rather earthbound conducting. Where the evening really started to take wing was in Tatyana’s name day party. Treliński set up a visually fascinating scene that seemed to hover between the real and the imagined. Was Krzysztof Szmyt’s foppish Triquet with his flying fairy sidekick real? Were the dancers with deer heads? Or were they just a figment of Tatyana’s imagination? Similarly, the rigid succession of figures who walked through the polonaise – were they a succession of Onegin’s former lovers or figures of a society that thrived on conformity. While Treliński might not give us all the answers, he certainly provokes reflection, as well as giving us much to reflect upon. The other reason the evening seemed to take wing after the name day celebrations was due to Andrzej Lampert’s electrifying Lensky. He appeared to single-handedly change the direction of the evening. His ‘kuda, kuda?’ was mesmerizing, sung with precisely the sense of wistfulness and longing it requires. His tenor is in fine shape, robust and easily produced, always sung off the text. He held the stage, producing a spell so enchanting that when he received his well-deserved ovation at the end of his aria, it felt that something magical had been broken. Anna Nechaeva is the owner of a striking soprano of good weight and an exciting metallic edge. The sound itself is fabulous at full volume, filling the house in thrilling waves of ecstatic sound, particularly in a final scene, sung from the stage-front apron, that soared gloriously. At the same time, I must admit that I left with the impression that Nechaeva isn’t quite ‘finished’ as an interpreter, the letter scene, in particular, somewhat anonymous. The voice also has a tendency to sit slightly under the note. It is, without doubt, a splendid instrument but not quite the finished article. Stanisław Kuflyuk replaced the originally-cast Mariusz Kwiecień in the title role. He seemed very much at home in this staging, his slightly cold, detached manner ideally matched to Treliński’s concept. The voice is in good shape – big and resonant with a warm, healthy core and an easy line. In the remainder of the cast, Sergii Magera sang Gremin with a big, booming bass. Liliana Istratii sang Olga with impeccable textual awareness and an easy, sunny mezzo. Joanna Motulewicz made an impression as Larina with a silky, fruity mezzo, while Anna Lubańska’s Filippyevna was full of character. The house chorus sang with firm, youthful tone and immaculate tuning, which made it all the more regrettable that they were denied their opening chorus. The house orchestra played decently for Yurkevych, the odd, passing moment of sour string intonation notwithstanding. Yurkevych favoured tempi that were languorous and thoughtful, often to the detriment of forward momentum. For instance, as Tatyana and Onegin reminisced about their lives in the final scene, the tempo seemed to ground to a halt. There were also a few moments along the way where it felt the singers wanted to keep things moving. Still, the winds were full of personality and while the brass didn’t always attack their entries unanimously, they were on good behaviour all night. This was a more than respectable Onegin. We were given a thoughtful and intelligent staging, one that mined deep into the work to explore its themes of loss, memory and non-conformity in a world were few are different. If there were perhaps one too many visual insights to fully take in on a first viewing, it still made for a fascinating evening in the theatre. Respectably sung and played – and even more than that in the case of Lampert’s Lensky – the evening was rapturously received by the Warsaw public who gave it a standing ovation.
"Cardillac" Hindemitha w reżyserii Mariusza Trelińskiego to triumf muzyki, stawiającej wysokie wymagania słuchaczowi, oraz polskich śpiewaków (...) Druga radosna wiadomość wiąże się z obsadą „Cardillaca". Nie trzeba było sprowadzać zagranicznych wykonawców, aby ta opera z trudnymi partiami wokalnymi i wymagająca świetnej dykcji w języku niemieckim mogła zostać świetnie wykonana na polskiej scenie. W obsadzie nie było słabych punktów, co jest ważne, ponieważ „Cardillac" jest operą zespołową, od wszystkich wymaga kunsztu. Świetnie zabrzmiały więc głosy Wojciecha Parchema (Młody) (...)
W roli Oficera (w inscenizacji Trelińskiego: Młodego) wystąpił Wojciech Parchem, który próbował nie tylko oddać wyrywność chłystka-anarchisty, lecz także pewnie wykonywał wszystkie mordercze dźwięki tej tenorowej partii.
