Past Production Reviews
15As a result, the evening relied more on the fine Marcello and Musetta from Charles Rice and Louise Alder, who gave the tragedy the ring of truth, both revealed and camouflaged by their explosive relationship. Alder took charge of her Café Momus waltz with imperious ease, considerable humour and some impressive coloratura, while in Act Three Rice’s immensely likeable Marcello in fine acting and singing painfully got to the heart of the misery Mimì and Rodolfo are inflicting on each other – they can’t live with or without each other. Rice naturally took charge of the artist household, backed up William Thomas’s Colline and Benson Wilson’s Schaunard, both strongly characterised and sung.
Or maybe not, for one of the most impressive aspects was Ben Glassberg’s conducting, which revelled in Puccini’s Wagnerisms, memories of Tristan evoked quite magically in the first act, without taking for something they were not. The sounds extracted from the ENO Orchestra were often magnificent: a great dynamic range, from moments of hushed intimacy, to grand, declamatory gesture. But it was Glassberg’s pacing and his reconciliation of vocal and orchestral demands that marked this out most strongly. That was not all his doing, of course. Both orchestra and chorus—what a joy to see and hear a chorus, handled most resourcefully, onstage once again—deserved plaudits in their own right. String sheen and incisiveness, bubbling woodwind and chorus: these and more played their part in weaving an effervescent, yet ever-darkening dramatic tapestry.
Another double helping of a Verdi classic.
As El Padre used to say, there are two things to see at an opera. The first is the opera — the second is people watching the opera. Never is this more true than at the opening night of a fresh rendition of La Traviata; the Royal Opera House’s latest outing, lovingly directed by the usually excellent Richard Eyre, attracts an audience as mosaic and unknowable as Boris Gudunov. White tie mixes with tattered mesh jackets; the oldest of old money rubs against ruddy-faced scions of European commerce. Opera — the great leveller. La Traviata — the ultimate draw. All of which is to say, in a roundabout sort of way, that this, like Tosca, is an opera that does not need to be perfect to be adored — and that this truth is a vital feature of the experience. An elderly man at the bar, for example, complains to me before the show even begins that he has seen La Traviata “at least ten times this year”; yet, when the bell is rung, he bounces in as quickly as anybody. Verdi transcends — but will Richard Eyre?
The Royal Opera House’s latest revival of Richard Eyre’s version sees three different casts used during its run. The initial trio of Venera Gimadieva (Violetta), Samuel Sakker (Alfredo) and Luca Salsi (Germont) all pass muster on a difficult opening night: the original Alfredo Saimir Pirgu came down with a throat infection and was replaced on the day by the Australian tenor. Sakker, unsurprisingly, takes a little while to find his feet but absolutely nails his character’s pathos in the final act. In contrast, Salsi is a tour de force from soup to nuts, his acting perfectly complementing his character’s emotional arc. Russian soprano Gimadieva makes for a subtle Violetta whose impact is only truly felt from the second act onwards; her excoriating two-hander with Salsi is a no-holds-barred tearjerker which will stay long in the memory. Eyre’s production is a considerate and powerful piece. The set design is an expressive beast which ranges from the sumptuous opening party scenes to the denouement’s spartan mise en scène. Direction is fluid and punchy, especially towards the end; conversely the lighting makes a major impact on the first scene but adds comparatively little after. Down in the pit, Yves Abel conducts Verdi’s gorgeous music with verve and aplomb.
The festival's highlight is Stravinsky's "Oedipus Rex," for which a Western-and-Japanese team created an elaborate set, complete with a reflecting pool covering the stage to evoke a misty path blending East and West. The soprano Jessye Norman was cast in the lead role of Jocasta, the mother of the ancient Greek king Oedipus.
Seiji Ozawa led a monumental new “Oedipus Rex” at the fledgling Saito Kinen Festival in Matsumoto, Japan. Directed by Julie Taymor--she of masks, puppets and a MacArthur Foundation “genius” grant--that production of Stravinsky’s opera-oratorio seems as close to definitive as the difficult work may allow.
Bakanova is undeniably the star of the show. Her voice, pure and clean, dips and rises above the orchestra. She exudes a simmering balance of gentility and intensity, weakness and strength. Her dramatization of Violetta is as brilliant and vibrant as her voice, and the emotion she injects into her arias, particularly Amami, Alfredo and the haunting Addio, del passato, is palpable. Ayan, in comparison, is less remarkable, as Bakanova is so mesmerising, but he is also a fine actor and an even better tenor. He is commanding and forthcoming as Alfredo, and perhaps with a little more warmth towards Violetta, the chemistry between the pair wouldn’t have felt as flat in the first act. However, their interactions improve in vigour and sincerity towards the end of the piece, and it becomes devastating to listen as they make plans in vain in Parigi, o cara at the end of the third act. Baritone Nicola Alaimo as Giorgio Germont sometimes goes unheard beneath the orchestra, while Doctor Grenvil (David Shipley) performs his few lines with surprising power and clarity. Designer Bob Crowley’s set is simple and understated, and not at all overbearing. During the final act, the wide-open space and Parisian shutters, with peeling walls of washed-out grey make the perfect space for Violetta. The lighting design by Jean Kalman is stunning, from the ominous shadow cast over Giorgio during the second act, to Violetta’s apartment awash with blue light as silhouettes of carnival revellers are seen passing by outside. La Traviata is so tragic it is almost painful, but in the most exquisite way. The tale of a fallen woman, struck by an incurable affliction in the prime of her life, is sure to pull at your heartstrings. If you’ve never been to the opera, as I hadn’t before seeing La Traviata, then I whole-heartedly recommend it. It’s grandiose, it’s a spectacle, and the cast and orchestra are obviously sublimely talented. Don’t be put off by the running time of three hours and forty-five minutes, as it’s all over far too quickly. This production of La Traviata is tender, heart-breaking, and simply beautiful.
The second act is the real challenge for Scarpia, and Tézier was truly despicable here as his performance was fueled by believable emotions that provided psychological layers to the character rather than just playing up a clichéd monster as many other interpreters do. His Scarpia was also impressive and vocally impeccable. Of the rest of the characters in the opera, I want to single out Carlo Bosi’s Spoleta; Bosi possesses a rich tenor with a fair vibrato and a frightening personification of the role. Pierre Audi’s production is evocative and meaningful, exploring the power and control of the church and political order with a giant crucifix present in every Act. The first two acts are abstractions of the church of Sant’Andrea delle Valle and of Scarpia’s study, with a dramatic but effective use of lighting (by Jean Calman) that contrasts light and dark by playing with a black curtain and a cyclorama at the back of the scene. Most impressive was the clever dramatic setting of Tosca’s aria “Vissi d’arte” as Scarpia leaves Tosca alone after having given her a crucifix that she sings to.Carlo Montanaro conducted the orchestra of Paris Opera, giving a passionate reading of the score, but measuring the drama to avoid excessive mannerisms usually done in Verismo repertoire. In this particular approach, there was a perfect communion between the conductor and the singers, as if Montanaro were breathing with them during the lyrical legato moments. The orchestra and the chorus were undoubtedly at their best throughout. Ultimately, this was an amazing revival of the Paris Opera’s production of “Tosca,” with fine debuts by Agresta and Fabiano providing the main highlights.
