Lauri Vasar / Ocene

Musically the evening was in a class by itself, superior even to the previous Festtage performances. The Staatskapelle had reached a state of grace even before the curtain had gone up, with fulsome strings and subtle woodwinds giving way to tidal swells of brass. Daniel Barenboim has always been good at drawing mysterious solemnity from the Vorspiel, but on this evening he achieved something close to perfection. The intensity of those opening moments in the dark of the theatre carried over into the first act, bringing momentum to the action without compromising the spacious tempi and ineffable majesty at the heart of Mr Barenboim’s reading. Gurnemanz’s journey through the backstory proceeded with unerring focus, and his lament for the dead swan was bolstered by a sad luminescence.

Die Darsteller setzen Prokofjews graziösen Buffo-Ton punktgenau in lebendiges Spiel um. Wunderbar werfen sich der geldgierige Don Jerome und der selbstverliebten Fischhändler die Bälle zu. Kraftzentrum ist die Haushälterin, die Duenna. Violeta Urmana spielt diese raffinierte Megäre; mit Haaren auf den Zähnen und großem Herzen zugleich. Im roten Gaze-Kleid kokettierend, hat sie bald den Fischhändler an der Angel.

Bieito’s dark production was staged on an austere but effective set of wooden planks designed by Rebecca Ringst, which opened up for the storm scene. The production was acted with an intensity rarely seen on the opera stage and free of any Regietheater excesses. The division of Lear’s wealth was simply represented by the daughters grabbing their part of a loaf of bread. Goneril and Regan, the sisters from hell, were sung with devastating power by sopranos Ricarda Merbeth and Erika Sunnegårdh on May 23. Both nailed the high tessitura of their roles with exciting accuracy and penetration. The opera is “full on” for much of the evening; vocal climaxes succeed one another with harrowing regularity. The second half of the opera is more reflective, as Lear descends into madness and despair. At fifty-four, Skovhus looked and sounded as young and fit as his daughters. Innocence and reserve come less naturally to the composer’s language, but soprano Annette Dasch achieved glowing beauty as Cordelia. In an evening of remarkable performances, special mention must be made of countertenor Andrew Watts as Edgar, who sang in both chest and head register with outstanding power and stamina, and baritone Lauri Vasar as Gloucester, whose terrifying blinding was managed with consummate skill. This Lear was a big triumph for the entire team and the composer, who were greeted with enthusiasm far beyond the polite reception usually accorded late-twentieth-century works here.