Showing posts with label Carlos Álvarez. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carlos Álvarez. Show all posts

Tuesday, 24 January 2017

Puccini - Madama Butterfly (La Scala, 2016)

Giacomo Puccini - Madama Butterfly

Teatro alla Scala, Milan - 2016

Riccardo Chailly, Alvis Hermanis, Maria José Siri, Annalisa Stroppa, Carlos Álvarez, Bryan Hymel, Carlo Bosi

ARTE Concert - December 2016

With all its kitsch Orientalism, do we really expect to find realism in Madama Butterfly? Maybe not in the conventional sense, but there is a kind of realism in how Puccini and David Belasco's original play (based on a true story) recognise western attitudes towards the lure of the exotic East (which includes racist and stereotypical views) and how the incompatibility of those views with the reality can have tragic consequences for both sides. Musically too there have always remained question marks about Puccini's emotional manipulation, so it was going to be interesting to see what would be revealed in the La Scala production of the original two-act version of Madama Butterfly that Puccini quickly abandoned and revised after its failed premiere in 1904. The results are impressive and, for me at least, a complete revelation and revindication of the work.

Latvian director Alvis Hermanis seems to find the perfect place between realism and the ideal in his production for La Scala. It looks traditional in one respect having all the associated imagery and colour we expect to find in Madama Butterfly, with its sliding screens and cherry blossoms, traditional geisha make-up and obis. In the same way that his Jenůfa for La Monnaie in Brussels made use of the imagery of Alphonse Mucha, the director here taps into another authentic source for representation of the place and the period, using photographs from the start of the 20th century as a basis for the costumes and the design. It draws from the very imagery that inspires these idealised and stereotypical views that come out in US naval officer Francis Blummy Pinkerton.



F.B. Pinkerton, in this original version of Madama Butterfly (and often too in the more familiar revised version) is a just as much a vulgar stereotype of the brash American as Cio-Cio San is an idealised western image that persists of the Japanese woman as a fragile, silent, submissive doll. If that's the ideal that Pinkerton wants he can buy it, and dollars are flashed and handed out liberally to everyone who helps him acquire that dream. It's a contractual arrangement to legitimise the more uncomfortable reality that he is buying a 15 year-old girl to sleep with. Regardless of the dressing - and Madama Butterfly is exquisitely dressed here in the gorgeous costume designs - I don't think there's any attempt to hide the true nature of this sordid little set up.

And there's no attempt either in this opera to pretend that such a situation will end in anything but disaster and tears. And tears are always guaranteed by the time we get to the always shocking finale, but Puccini is surely justified in provoking them. At heart Madama Butterfly is not a study of idealism versus reality in a social context nor an exploration of the incompatibility of diverse cultural worldviews, it's a conflict on a more personal level, on a romantic level, between what a man expects out of this unconventional arrangement and how the woman views it. Pinkerton believes that anything of value can be bought, that even nature will bow down to the dollar. Madama Butterfly - despite the superficial adherence to rituals and traditions - shows that the human heart cannot be bought. Putting aside the oriental touches in the music, it's on this level that Puccini's music operates and it hits there at the deepest point.

All of these elements and the deeper implications are brought out exceptionally well in the La Scala production. It's ravishingly beautiful, it satisfies an audience who prefer a more traditional approach, but by playing to those expectations it also highlights the very prejudices that the opera is criticising and fully realises the musical world that Puccini has created for the opera. It's totally involving and enveloping, all the more so for Riccardo Chially's superb musical direction and the quality of the singing, which is of a very high standard right across all the principal roles. Bryan Hymel is still Byran Hymel; wonderfully lyrical, entering fully into the role and taking the high notes gloriously but sounding pushed and constricted when there is more body needed in the lower range. Annalisa Stroppa and Carlos Álvarez are both terrific as Suzuki and Sharpless, showing the value of these roles.



There can be no praise too high to describe Maria José Siri's performance as Cio-Cio San. More than just beautifully sung to meet the exacting standards of the La Scala audience, it was an extraordinarily complete performance that practically lived out the role on the stage. The singing alone is a challenge for any dramatic soprano, but imagine living through the extreme range of emotions that Puccini scores for in such a concentrated, heightened fashion. No soprano experienced enough to sing this role is ever going to pass in appearance for a 15 year old girl, but Maria José Siri evokes the innocence and inexperience of the girl in every expression and in every note, completely assuming the role.

There's the rapturous innocence of Act I, the firmness of her convictions bordering on delusion in Act II, the combination of which leads inevitably to the tragic conclusion in Act III. If you get the first two Acts right, then Act III is going to follow through and hit hard the way it should. Well, it can hardly fail in any case, but it makes all the difference if there is that strength of character and conviction placed behind it. I think you could tell how well Maria José Siri was going to assume that role well before 'Un bel dì vedremo', so there was also plenty of time to prepare yourself for the emotional impact of the conclusion, which indeed is pretty much near devastating.

Of course I'm talking here as if this were the three-Act version of Madama Butterfly, when in reality this production goes right back to the original poorly received 1904 two-Act version. Despite reports of it being extensively revised by Puccini, the original doesn't appear to be significantly different from the more familiar version of the opera as we all know it. The Humming Chorus is still there - not as long I think - as a link between Act II and the concluding scene. I was interested and glad to hear however that its melody isn't there when Sharpless attempts to read Pinkerton's letter to Butterfly. I have never liked it there, feeling it was out of place, particularly as it is so well-known now as a kind of expectant night music or lullaby.



The more significant revisions however are reported to be in the tone of the racism expressed by the Americans and the callousness of Pinkerton. That to me however is more of an issue of interpretation, as I've seen more sympathetic Pinkerton's certainly, but depending on how it is directed Pinkerton can still come across as a heartless cad in the familiar three-Act version. Greater emphasis can also be placed on his willingness to 'buy' a 15 year old girl as a 'bride'. Mrs Pinkerton has a little more of a role in this version, but I'm sure I've seen her role developed before and always thought it was cut according to the production. I could be wrong.

Essentially however, the familiar Madama Butterfly is entirely there in all its ravishing beauty and dark romanticism. Alvis Hermanis's production looks stunning, keeping it traditional and period, with an authenticity in detail and manner and with no small degree of flair. Most importantly, it is utterly perfect in how it presents the mood, the drama, the romance and the tragedy, with attention to the surface impressions and the underlying tensions. If there were every any doubts about the merits of Madama Butterfly as an opera beyond its crowd-pleasing popularity, this production reminds you that it is indeed nothing short of a masterpiece.

Links: Teatro alla Scala, ARTE Concert

Friday, 20 March 2015

Bellini - I Puritani (Vienna, 2015 - Webcast)

Vincenzo Bellini - I Puritani

Wiener Staatsoper, 2015

Marco Armiliato, John Dew, Jongmin Park, John Tessier, Carlos Álvarez, Olga Peretyatko, Sorin Coliban, Carlos Osuna, Ilseyar Khayrullova

Wiener Staatsoper Live at Home - 10 March 2015


No-one goes to see Bellini's I Puritani expecting a history lesson. I think you'd find it hard to recognise any realistic treatment or situation between the opposing Puritan and Royalist forces, and certainly not any great depth of insightful characterisation of their lives and motivations. If however you come to see I Puritani for a lesson in how to construct and put across a bel canto opera of a Romantic nature with all the trimmings, well then you're in the right place. The Vienna production of Bellini's final work is given an outstanding interpretation here, with Olga Peretyatko in the leading role showing what the real value of this work can be.

You might not get much of a history lesson, and the plot of I Puritani might appear ludicrous to the casual viewer, but there is - quite literally - method to the madness. I Puritani isn't about the English Civil War, but the setting is as good as any for an epic drama between two opposing forces. And it's not so much a conflict between Roundheads and Cavaliers here, as a war between men and women. This aspect is particularly marked in the Vienna production. In bold strokes certainly, but bold strokes that depict a greater subjective reality.

Essentially, I Puritani must be seen from the perspective of Elvira if it is to engage the audience and make any sense at all. Yes, there's a dramatic plot point that sees the Royalist Arturo risk the delicate alliance that he has established wth the Puritan Parliamentarians, by helping a Royalist prisoner escape. This moreover is not just any prisoner. Arturo has recognised that the captive is the queen herself, Henrietta. Although he is about to be married that day to Elvira, Arturo's loyalty to the queen and his sense of duty is more important. Using the veil from Elvira's wedding gown, he helps the queen escape past the guards, and leaves his bride-to-be in a bit of a state.




In broad strokes then, I Puritani is about the clash of love and duty, but specifically in the different values that that men and women attach to them. Arturo knows that his actions are not excusable, but they are credible in that they are determined by his sense of duty. In his mind, his duty towards his queen must take precedence over any personal consideration - there's no other choice he could have made. Seen in that light, Elvira's response to the masculine view towards duty and honour over private sentiments - the jilted woman disintegrating into full-blown insanity - would seem to be a bit of an over-reaction.

It's vital however to see things from Elvira's perspective. She doesn't know it was Queen Henrietta that Arturo has rescued, but even if she did know, the fact is not really relevant. She's not experiencing events in a political or historical context, but from an emotional one. In her mind, her husband-to-be, the man she loves deeply, has absconded with another woman, a woman who - in the ultimate betrayal - he has helped escape using her wedding veil. The historical background and fact that it is the Queen is relevant only to the audience in terms of scaling the enormity of this betrayal to Elvira's mindset. With the stakes set so high, it's not surprising that she goes mad.

The trick to making such a drama work is to completely draw the audience into that mindset. Bellini is able to score the work to elicit the necessary emotions and go some way to making it credible, but it must work on the stage as well. That means that you need an exceptional singer for Elvira - who is the primary focus and emotional barometer for the work - but you also need it to work in complete conjunction with a sympathetic musical interpretation and good stage direction. You can see that the cast are fully behind those personal dramas. They never appear to be larger-than-life historical figures, but creatures of delicate sensibilities and a firm sense of duty for what is right. It might not tell us much about the period, but it tells us a lot about the depth of human feeling. That's all there in Bellini's musical expression.




The stage itself them doesn't get bogged down in unnecessary historical accuracy either. Simply dressed, mostly dark, with only a few bold touches - huge beheaded statues - Heinz Balthes' sets speak of the conflict and give a sense of the scale that I Puritani works on. Bold colouration - usually associated with Elvira - is used to similar effect, while Olga Peretyatko, appears in the midst of all this in her white wedding dress a vision of perfection. That perfection becomes swallowed up in what is the only real expressionistic gesture in the stage direction. Evidently, that's during the 'mad scene' at the end of Act I, when Elvira's sense of order falls apart and she is caught up in a swirl of violent emotions.

The appropriateness of the stage direction and its ability to follow the mood becomes even more evident in Act II. There's no attempt to force the message home either in the stage direction or in the management of the orchestra. It takes its time and settles into the moment, letting it all just sink in. Sir George's description of the poor mad Elvira is just beautiful; sensitive to her plight, distraught at the cause of it (Arturo), highlighting in its own way the different male and female responses to the events that have occurred. Nothing significant happens in Act II, but between them Giorgio, Riccardo and Elvira make it really feel like it is the heart of the piece, which is what it ought to be.

As good as all this is, what really elevates the production and convincingly takes you into the heart of Elvira's dilemma and madness, is the outstanding performance of Olga Peretyatko. Peretyatko really is up there among the best in the world in some of the most challenging roles in the bel canto repertoire at the moment. Her delivery is confident but sensitive throughout. In the critical mad scene - where you really have to feel Elvira's predicament and her reaction is justified - she is not just technically accomplished to the highest level in her ornamentaion, but retains a wonderful lyricism in that lovely songbird quality that Peretyatko posesses in her voice. Demonstrating incredible control, she never overstretches or tips her performance over into full-blown hysteria.

Peretyatko's comanding central performance is, as demonstrated in Act II, well matched with solid and sensitive performances from Jongmin Park as Sir Giorgio and Carlos Álvarez as Sir Riccardo Forth. John Tessier is a little less steady as Arturo, but he has a bright timbre that is well-suited to the role, even if the high notes are a little beyond his range. It is an extremely difficult role, and not a sympathetic one, but Tessier does well to make his position credible. With such strong casting, good direction by John Dew, and the musical performance in the very capable hands of Marco Armiliato, the Vienna State Opera's production of I Puritani might not have been much of a history lesson, but it was a masterclass of Italian bel canto.


Links: Wiener Staatsoper Live Streaming programmeStaatsoper Live at Home video