Handel - Alcina (Aix-en-Provence, 2015 - Webcast)

George Frideric Handel - Alcina

Festival Aix-en-Provence, 2015

Andrea Marcon, Katie Mitchell, Patricia Petibon, Philippe Jaroussky, Anna Prohaska, Katarina Bradić, Anthony Gregory, Krzysztof Baczyk, Elias Mädler

Opera Platform - July 2015

Katie Mitchell's production of Alcina for the 2015 Aix-en-Provence Festival has more in common with the lavish Vienna State Opera production than the recent disappointing minimalist faux-period production directed by Pierre Audi at La Monnaie. Like the Vienna Alcina, it recognises that the seductive power of illusion is at the heart of the work, but Mitchell's staging is a little more adventurous and modern in how it gets that across, not allowing the same illusion to overwhelm the harsher edge of the underlying reality.

Certainly the opening Act isn't at all reticent about showing the dark nature of a sorceress who seduces men and then turns them into wild animals, trees and rocks. In the Vienna production this was a decadent parlour game play on those themes that allowed it to retain a certain distance. In Katie Mitchell's production it's still the decadence of a wealthy elite, the principal action taking place in a luxury bedroom rather than on an enchanted island, but there 's rather more of an effort to get 'behind the scenes' here.

Most evidently, there is the nature of the bedroom activities that Alcina and her sister Morgana are shown to perform on the poor addled men who fall under their spell. Alcina's writhing around on top of Ruggiero is saucy enough, but Morgana's inclinations are rather more kinky, involving her being strapped to the bed, blindfolded and whipped by 'Ricciardo' (Bradamante in disguise) in a manner that has become more prevalent on the opera stage of late. It won't be the first time '50 Shades of Gray' has been referenced here, but in a strange way there is some kind of justification for it in the stylisations of Baroque opera, or at least in this one anyway.

Chloe Lamford's set design also helps brings out something more of gap between dark desires and surface expression. The set is very similar in design to the one Katie Mitchell used for Written on Skin's world première production at Aix in 2012. To the side of the boudoir lie a couple of adjoining rooms or caverns, where Alcina and Morgana's 'glamour' drops and they take the form of older women, cleverly transforming as they sweep out of one room and into the next. It's a simple trick, but an effective one that hints at those different levels of reality that the opera works on. It's not without a humorous touch either, the upper level holding a 'transforming machine' that turns discarded conquest into stuffed animals to be housed in glass cages.

There's ample justification for this multi-scene approach in the music, which alternates delicate melodies and strident rhythms, but each of the characters - typically in a Baroque opera - operates within their own reality, and it's usually one that doesn't fit and conflicts with the reality of others. Mitchell's staging and some good direction establishes the relationships between the characters well, with the addition of silent assistants for Morgana and Alcina to carry out their magic. It works effectively not only to depict the differing realities, but by showing them simultaneously in their rooms it even helps to bring them together and co-exist in a way that Baroque opera rarely does on its own.

Which, as far as I'm concerned, is great, because notwithstanding that Alcina has some of Handel's most poignant and beautiful arias, I've never felt convinced by the overall tone of the work and how it tells its story. Christophe Rousset and Les Talens Lyrique's  beautiful precise rhythms captured something of the harder edge of the magic undercurrents if not the wider romantic sweep of the work at La Monnaie. Andrea Marcon's rather loose and free conducting of the Freiburger Barockorchester by contrast, elegant and refined as it remains, doesn't really capture what is a fairly horrific and unpleasant situation for all, and not just in the magic aspect of changing humans into savage beasts, but the relationships too are all fairly abusive and marked by betrayal, jealousy and vengeance.

The singing is perhaps more important in conveying those emotions than the music alone, and happily, the casting for Alcina at Aix is interesting and successful. Impressive even in the case of Patricia Petibon. The measure of an Alcina is found in its main arias and the best of them are in Act II (although ordering and positioning can vary). They are best placed in Act II however, where their conflicting emotions work so well off one another. Alcina's 'Ah! Mio cor' is the key aria of course, determining whether we sympathise with Alcina's predicament or not, and although Mitchell has already done lots of work stripping her bare in her transformations, Petibon is pretty much devastating here on her own account.

It's fantastic to have a countertenor in the role of Ruggiero, particularly one as good as Philippe Jaroussky. His 'Mi lusinga il dolce affetto' not only excuses his inadvertent betrayal of Bradamante, but succeeds in competing for one's sympathies against those that Petibon evokes so powerfully for Alcina. Mitchell even complicates the situation by deepening Bradamante's mixed feelings with a suggestion that Alcina is left pregnant by Ruggiero. A genuinely youthful and sympathetic Oberto adds another emotional dimension in his heartbreaking search for his father and it's sung wonderfully here by Elias Mädler. Big arias also proved the worth of Anna Prohaska's Morgana in her 'Tornami a vagheggiar', while the 50 Shades whipping she receives from Oronte's Gray during her 'Credete al mio dolore' is a fitting 'punishment'. It certainly seems to help her get to those high notes.

Links: Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, Opera Platform

Handel - Alcina (La Monnaie, 2015 - Webcast)

George Frideric Handel - Alcina

La Monnaie-De Munt, 2015

Christophe Rousset, Les Talens Lyriques, Pierre Audi, Sandrine Piau, Maite Beaumont, Angélique Noldus, Sabina Puértolas, Chloé Briot, Daniel Behle, Giovanni Fulanetto, Edouard Higuet

La Monnaie, Culturebox, RTBF - February 2015

There's long been a belief that Baroque opera can't possibly be put performed in the manner in which it was originally intended, and indeed, it hardly serves any useful pupose to attempt to recreate the theatrical conditions of 300 years ago. If you're going to attempt a more 'authentic' experience of Baroque opera beyond the now more common use of period instruments however, the location needs to be right. The Drottningholm Slottsteater near Stockholm is one of the few working Baroque theaters in the world and seen in that context it's necessary and doubtlessly instructive to see great works making use of the theatre's rope and pulley stage systems. I'm not convinced however that there's anything to be gained from putting on Baroque period-style productions elsewhere, and on the rare occasion I've seen it attempted, I haven't been terribly impressed.

Originally created for Drottningholm by Pierre Audi, the productions of Handel's Alcina and Tamerlano have been modified to allow them to be taken to Madrid, Amsterdam and to La Monnaie in Brussels this year, but still retaining the character and purpose of the original productions. The intention is to show how revolutionary these operas are as dramatic stage works and, up to a point, they do just that. On the surface, Alcina, one of Handel's operas derived from Ariosto's Renaissance work 'Orlando Furioso', isn't really much different in form from other opera seria works of this period. There are only a few characters and little real dramatic development beyond the usual love complication ones, resulting in a great deal of anguish and emotional turmoil for all concerned. There is however in Handel a different type of dramatic structure from the types we are familiar with, and that definitely comes through in this production. Up to a point. 
 

The simple sets recede from the wing panels to a plain painted backdrop, creating the space and the perspective required, leaving the stage clear and fuctional. Within this, the period costumes designed by Patrick Kinmonth stand out and keep the eye drawn to the characters themselves, to the specific arrangement of people on the stage at any one time, and to the sentiments they are expressing. Audi's direction allows the emotional flow and expression of the music itself to determine the dramatic arc of the work, and when you've got Christophe Rousset directing Les Talens Lyriques in the pit, you'd be right to do just that. The rhythm, precision and with the extraordinary beauty of what Handel writes and the sound that can be derived from those period instruments is just breathtaking. When you have singers who can make something of those arrangements too, well, musically, this is as close to perfection as you can get.

And yet, it's still not enough. As beautiful as the music is, as wonderfully as it's performed and as beautiful as the stage production looks, it all becomes tiresome and visually repetitive over a three hour performance. Audi's intention is of course to prove that this is not the case, but - viewed on screen at least (admittedly not the intended or ideal way to view these productions) - it starts to drag by the middle of the second act. By that point we've obtained a good sense of where all the drama and the conflict lies. We are aware of Bradamante's mission to save Ruggiero from the spell that Alcina has cast upon him, and we are aware that Alcina's love is genuine. We also realise that, disguised as her brother Ricciardo, Bradamande has stirred up some other problems on the enchanted island, coming between Oronte and Morgana. There is however only so much back and forth switching of sentiments and partners that one can take before it all becomes terribly tedious and repetitive.

It is nontheless possible to sustain the viewers interest in other ways. As a magical opera, where the enchanted island is populated by the spirits of Alcina's former lovers who she has since abandoned and transformed into stones and trees, or at best into animals, there are opportunities to present some magical effects, or visual imagery, but that's not taken advantage of here in Pierre Audi's production. Occasionally, we see figures, ghosts with veils wrapped around their eyes, and we also have occasional interjections from Oberto, a young man with no memory of his past who is looking for his missing father, which helps bring a little variety and 'colour' to the otherwise predictable sequence of arias of love, betrayal and jealousy, but there's really not enough done to make any of this visually distinctive, much less magical.
 

There's nothing predictable or tedious about singing performances, or at least not in the principal roles. Maite Beaumont's Ruggiero is a little cool and not particularly distinctive, but it's sung well. You can forgive Ruggiero being a little cool as he is under a spell for most of the work, but you really need fire and depth of sentiment in Alcina and Bradamante. Sandrine Piau is a richly-voiced Alcina, variously commanding, fired up with rage, and hopelessly in love at different points. Piau is impressive on every register, reminding you that no matter what sentiment Alcina is feeling, she's always a sorceress and a woman and consequently very dangerous indeed. Angélique Noldus's Bradamante/Ricciardo is just as well characterised, her singing voice delightful and clearly well-trained for this repertoire. The ornamentation for her Act I 'È gelosia forza è d'amore' is superb, and she demonstrates great variety and colour elsewhere.

The other roles are also well-sung, and the performance of Les Talens Lyriques under Christophe Rousset is truly wondrous, but it's still not enough to sustain dramatic interest. There's not really enough depth in the drama of Alcina to give you a great deal to think about, work out or engage with. It's fairly rote opera seria material and even if Handel's treatment of it is just exquisite beyond words, it can still be long and tedious without some additional visual or mental stimulation. As a 300-year old work, far from its original historical context, it's surprising that Pierre Audi is unable or doesn't feel it necessary to use other means that would enable a modern audience to engage with its themes in a way that would not at the same time harm the beauty or the indisputable brilliance of this work.

La Monnaie's Alcina and Tamerlano can be viewed on-line for a limited period from the La Monnaie streaming service, or from the RTBF Belgian radio web-site.  Links below.  The next production from La Monnaie is Wolfgang Rihm's Jakob Lenz, available from 17 March to 6 April.

Links: La Monnaie, RTBF Musiq3

Handel - Alcina

Georg Friedrich Handel - Alcina

Wiener Staatsoper, Vienna 2011

Adrian Noble, Marc Minkowski, Les Musiciens du Louvre-Grenoble, Anja Harteros, Vesselina Kasarova, Veronica Cangemi, Kristina Hammarström, Alois Mühlbacher, Benjamin Bruns, Adam Plachetka

Arthaus Blu-ray

If it doesn’t do the mostly static and uneventful nature of Handel’s 1735 opera any favours, it’s at least appropriate that director Adrian Noble chooses to stage this production for the Weiner Staatsoper entirely within the ballroom of a stately house. Alcina does indeed feel small and intimate – some might say dry and mechanical – the kind of entertainment put on for the amusement of a gathering of nobles at an 18th century dinner party. That’s not exactly high-concept, but it’s about as adventurous as you’re going to get for a rare performance of a Baroque opera at the Vienna Staatsoper (the first in 50 years), and if it doesn’t do much for the opening up of Alcina, it at least recognises its limitations and, under the baton of the excellent Marc Minkowski, it’s about as good an account of the opera as you could expect.

The play within a play concept is only really nominally adhered to, the overture used to set the occasion within Devonshire House, where Georgiana Cavendish, Duchess of Devonshire and some guests (you would only know this from the production notes) put on a performance that perhaps appeals to or reflects their nature. The Duchess becomes the sorceress Alcina, who enchants men and then casts them off, changing them into wild beasts, trees or ghosts, left to roam her island. Her latest conquest is Ruggiero, who is unaware of his fate, but when his betrothed Bradamante (disguised as a man, Ricciardo) and Melisso, her tutor, come to rescue him, Alcina recognises that she may indeed have real feelings for him. There’s not a whole lot more to the opera than this. There are a few additional complications added with Alcina’s sister Morgana falling in love with Ricciardo (not realising he is actually Bradamante), which enrages Oronte, Alcina’s general who is in love with her. There’s another figure, Oberto, taken in after he and his father were shipwrecked on the island (his father since turned into a wild beast). And just in case that’s all not confusing enough, there are the usual identity problems with trouser roles to come to terms with. Not only is the young boy Oberto played by a female, but Ruggiero is a woman playing a male role who is betrothed to a woman dressed as a man.

That’s complicated enough to get your head around without having to consider that Adrian Noble’s production has historical figures playing these roles, but it’s not as complex as it sounds. The dramatic action is limited and the emotional content isn’t that deep, the endless da capo arias expressing no profound wisdom or inner turmoil and no noble sentiments beyond simple expressions of love, rejection and love again, repetitively back and forth as awareness of identities and natures are revealed. Essentially, it’s a case of the power of true love prevailing. Handel’s Italian operas can be rather dramatically limited in this respect – certainly when compared to his oratorios – and Alcina seems relatively straightforward in its playing out of the situation, with arrangements that aren’t particular complex. Mood and character however are tastefully evoked throughout, but there are indeed also some beautiful heart-rending arias and melodies by the time the characters reach the crux of their situation at the end of Act II and in Act III.

If the staging is slightly static in an opera where nothing much happens – a fact only emphasised by non-participant guests sitting around watching the performance – Adrian Noble at least makes it all look very lovely indeed, with striking lighting, colours and simple effects that are appropriate to the occasion but highly effective. The tone is matched by Minkowski’s conducting of the Musiciens du Louvre-Grenoble, finding the rhythmic centre of the score, the whole ensemble bright, vivid and dynamic, but with a delicate touch to individual instruments which are picked out beautifully in the sound mix. The single greatest thing about the choice of staging however is indeed the use of a small core of musicians on the stage creating a wonderful connection in their accompaniment of the singers.

The most notable singing here is from Bulgarian mezzo-soprano Vesselina Kasarova as Ruggiero, demonstrating a remarkable range from deep notes to high coloratura seemingly effortlessly. Her delivery and acting can be slightly mannered and even distracting, perhaps on account of playing a male role, but I don’t think the Vienna audience give her the credit she deserves here. Kristina Hammarströmn is a good Bradamante and Anja Harteros fine as Alcina, if a little lacking in character. There are a few off-notes here and there, but her Act II aria “Ah! Mio cor! Schernito sei!” is one of several beautiful Handel compositions here and sung very well. As Oberto, Alois Mühlbacher thankfully adds some variety to the voices and the repetitive romantic declarations and expressions of disappointment in rejection.

Drawn out to three and a half-hours, those sentiments can become rather tedious after a while, but while Alcina isn’t the greatest Handel opera and is fairly static and limited in its dramatic situation, its overall construction is carefully considered and it’s worth persevering with for the some wonderful moments and beautiful arrangements that arise out of it as a whole. The staging and performances from the orchestra and the singers all ensure that those qualities come through.

As do the specifications of the Blu-ray from Arthaus. The sumptuous staging is finely detailed and extraordinarily colourful and, other than the use of fades and one lapse of rapid cross-cutting, the filming is fine. The PCM stereo and the DTS HD-Master Audio mixes are impressive. Subtitles are in Italian, English, German, French, Spanish, Japanese and Korean. A twenty-minute behind-the-scenes featurette is included.