Showing posts with label Cyrille Dubois. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cyrille Dubois. Show all posts

Saturday, 21 October 2023

Janáček - The Makropoulos Case (Paris, 2023)


Leoš Janáček - The Makropoulos Case

Opéra National de Paris, 2023

Susanna Mälkki, Krzysztof Warlikowski, Karita Mattila, Pavel Černoch, Nicholas Jones, Ilanah Lobel-Torres, Johan Reuter, Cyrille Dubois, Károly Szemerédy, Peter Bronder 

Paris Opera Play - 13th October 2023

I could think of several reasons why the idea of Krzysztof Warlikowski directing a Janáček opera would be an attractive proposition - attractive enough in my case to start a subscription with Paris Opera Play to watch a livestream broadcast. The science-fiction nature of The Makropoulos Case and its modernity lends itself to wild flights of imagination, and the relatively short running time of the opera means that an adventurous director like Warlikowski doesn't have to strive too hard to make it fit with what will undoubtedly push a concept beyond the limits of what the opera can sustain. And the promotional 'King Kong' images it has to be said show that Warlikowski is going to push his own ideas and distinctive view of opera as far as he can.

He can't help himself with this one, such is the richness of the 'script' and the 'soundtrack' he has to work with that he can indulge his love of classic and iconic movies to the extent that even a short opera like Makropoulos is somehow extended to almost 2 hours. Regardless of what you think of the director's style and techniques, you can hardly argue with is his choice of 'Marilyn Monroe' to represent the superstar fame of the opera's ageless icon Emilia Marty and her tragic situation.

The opening section, that this director often fills with filmed movie footage of his own for his productions, this time uses original classic Hollywood footage of 'Sunset Boulevard' and 'King Kong', neither of which feature Monroe of course, but blending these with documentary footage recounting the string of marriages and the tragedy of a legend, the fall of Marilyn Monroe, they tangentially serve to provide an effective link between her life and The Makropoulos Case. Rather than take place within the offices of the lawyer Kolenaty then, this merges into a kind of on-stage reenactment of the unveiling of bound King Kong to a New York audience. No, definitely not the most obvious of connections to the start of The Makropoulos Case.

And yet, there are plenty of references in the libretto to connect the tragedy of Elina Makropoulos with Marilyn Monroe - "Nothing is eternal. 'Vanitas' …ashes to ashes!" "What can you care about a woman of ill repute who lived 100 years ago?". It might not draw anything new out of the opera, but it certainly provides a fresh way to look at the work, a new way to connect to its themes, since the plot is a fairly convoluted one. Warlikowski's production certainly brings out how women have been objectified by men over the years the harm inflicted on Emilia Marty as a woman who has lived through it and seen it all, been abused and mistreated by men trying to mold her in the image of their fantasies. "See this scar on my neck? Another man tried to kill me. I'm not going to undress to show you all the marks men have left on my body". she tells a besotted Albert Gregor, in thrall to the lure of the glamorous image.

It's a gift of a role for any star soprano who is able to project a similar glamorous allure, and Karita Mattila proves to be a good choice for her ability to inhabit the persona of the enigma that is Emilia Marty; a star, diva, a Norma Desmond. Dressed as Marilyn Monroe in a constantly billowing Seven Year Itch dress is a bit more of a stretch, but this is opera and almost every opera has a singer cast in a role that they don't match physically or in age, and Mattila carries it off surprising well. This is after all an opera where we are dealing with a character who is an ageless 337, so anything goes surely? 'Anything goes surely' being the philosophy of Warlikowski as well you could say. What matters is that she can sing the role and inhabit the role with personality. 

Mattila's voice might be a little weaker now in terms of volume, but she delivers a hugely convincing performance and the personality is definitely all there. Her voice sounded a little muffled in places, but it's hard to judge that from a live web broadcast. She still sings with great control, singing in Czech, which is doubtlessly challenging. As is the role itself, which Warlikowski doesn't make any easier, but there is little room for doubt about her ability there, her performance very impressive, genuinely magnetic and charismatic. All the roles are similarly well-cast and performed with notable performances from Pavel Černoch as Albert 'Bertik' Gregor and Ilanah Lobel-Torres as Krista. As often proves to be the case, 'Maxi' Hauck brings a humorous touch to the opera, sung here by Peter Bronder as an ice-cream salesman during the interval at the theatre/movie theatre where Emilia is appearing in a fully-staged reconstruction of Fay Wray being picked up by Kong.

Set designer Małgorzata Szczęśniak provides an impressive set and staging for this scene, a key scene in the work that succeeds in capturing the wonder, humour and the underlying tragedy of life that - like Jenůfa and The Cunning Little Vixen - lies at the heart of the work. Also, since the work does relate to the nature of the artist taking on many roles, exploring human experience, the nature of aging or remaining ageless, it does relate well also to Sunset Boulevard. Maxi becomes Erich von Stroheim's butler to Emilia's Marilyn Monroe/Norma Desmond, the opera finishing with a swimming pool scene that captures the glamour of the lifestyle and the tragedy to unfold there. Ars longa, vita brevis.

It's all there - glamour, spectacle, consideration of the nature of living and being human - all wrapped up in a marvellous entertainment with glorious music conducted here by Susanna Mälkki. That's The Makropoulos Case and there's no question all the glamour, spectacle and full consideration of what the opera has to tell us about the nature of living is fully what you get in Krzysztof Warlikowski's new production for the Paris Opera.


External Links: Opéra National de Paris, Paris Opera Play

Friday, 30 October 2020

Messager - Fortunio (Paris, 2019)

André Messager - Fortunio

Opéra Comique, Paris - 2019

Louis Langrée, Denis Podalydès, Cyrille Dubois, Anne-Catherine Gillet, Franck Leguérinel, Jean-S
ébastien Bou, Philippe-Nicholas Martin, Pierre Derhet, Thomas Dear, Aliénor Feix, Luc Bertin-Hugault, Geoffroy Buffière, Sarah Jouffroy, Laurent Podalydès

Naxos - Blu-ray

I don't think that André Messager is going to make a big comeback in popularity outside of France any time soon, but fortunately they look after the legacy of their opera history at the Opéra Comique in Paris. Like some recent revivals of Messager's French contemporaries and teachers, Camille Saint-Saëns and Gabriel Fauré, his 1907 opera Fortunio proves to be a pleasant surprise, even if it remains very much of its time. Which is nonetheless a time that still saw some major works and significant developments in the world of opera.

Messager's contribution to early 20th century music is perhaps more for his fame as the conductor of the world premiere of Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande, and for his work in the promoting the Wagnerian repertoire in France. His own compositions may not be quite as groundbreaking in the world of opera as those two composers but when considered alongside the likes of Massenet or even Puccini, who was also composing his greatest works around the same period, Messager's operas are very much in the running in terms of melody, drama and intensity of deep romantic feelings.

While he made a significant contribution to the French opera world then in terms of his conducting and in his appointment as director of the Paris Opera, it doesn't appear that Messager had any great ambitions to progress the world of opera through his own compositions. His was the world of the light comic operetta, but in Fortunio he brings a deceptive lightness of touch to the more through-composed form of the opera-lyrique, with a traditional subject based on Alfred de Musset's 1835 comedy 'Le Chandelier', a work that was guaranteed to delight French audiences of the period.

Directed by Denis Podalydès, the Opéra Comique production very much aligned to a period style and tradition that will bring the best out of the work. In subject and treatment it often reminded me of elements Massenet's Manon and Werther. Fortunio is a naive country boy who has fallen hopelessly in love with Jacqueline, the coquettish wife of his employer, the notary Maître André. She uses his innocent devotion as a way to distract her husband from a much more serious affair that she is carrying on with her lover, the womanising Captain Clavaroche. Even though he becomes aware that he is being misused, Fortunio only grows even more devoted in the hope that his desires and faithfulness might be rewarded, despairing at the same time that he is surely unworthy of such love, a love so consuming that he could die of it or die for it.

Messager's skill is that he pours these sentiments into the most beautiful heartfelt arias, the music soaring in accompaniments as these feelings grow in intensity. Like Werther, if you have singers that can deliver on that the work itself will soar, and that's very much the case here. Cyrille Dubois is wonderful as Fortunio with a gorgeous lyrical range that brings the drama and the opera fully to life. Anne-Catherine Gillet's Jacqueline is also excellent in a tricky role that challenges ones sympathy with her coquettishness being indulged, a plaything for all three men, but there are indications that she doubts her own intentions and feelings, and Gillet captures that ambiguity and uncertainty well. Maître André and Clavaroche are much more caricatures, the foolish cuckolded husband and the womaniser, and both played to the hilt, as they should be in the context by Franck Leguérinel and Jean-Sébastien Bou.

The Opéra Comique of Paris are unparalleled at putting on French light opera of this period and the production here is outstanding, well up to their usual high standards. The musical direction by Louis Langrée is superb, putting a spring in the music, which is full of verve and emotion, and even shows important influences with some Debussy-like impressionistic and atmospheric touches. Eric Ruf's set designs are traditional and period with no ironic subtexts or winks to the audience. It's played for what it is. Although Messager is not a composer I'm at all familiar with, this production and performance here makes a strong case for this opera being worthy of sitting alongside more famous works in the repertoire.

The Blu-ray edition of Fortunio from Naxos is very nice. The High Definition image is clear with a touch of warmth and softness that captures the qualities of the theatrical lighting. The music is likewise warm and detailed, soaring in both Hi-Res LPCM stereo and DTS HD-Master Audio surround mixes. There are no extra features on the disc, but there's a full tracklist, commentary on the work and a synopsis in the enclosed booklet. The BD50 is all-region, with subtitles in French, English, German, Japanese and Korean.

Links: Opéra Comique

Wednesday, 27 February 2019

Berlioz - Les Troyens (Paris, 2019)

Hector Berlioz - Les Troyens

L'Opéra national de Paris, 2019

Dmitri Tcherniakov, Philippe Jordan, Ekaterina Semenchuk, Stéphanie d'Oustrac, Brandon Jovanovich, Véronique Gens, Stéphane Degout, Cyrille Dubois, Paata Burchuladze, Sophie Claisse, Michèle Losier, Christian Helmer, Christian van Horn, Aude Extrémo

ARTE Concert - 31 January 2019

Dmitri Tcherniakov may not to everyone's taste as an opera director, but he is still highly regarded in Paris, by the director of the opera house Stéphane Lissner at least if not by the vocal traditionalists in the audience. He's certainly highly enough regarded to be given a prestigious event like the full version of Berlioz's Les Troyens on the 150th anniversary of Berlioz's death, the 350th anniversary of the Opéra de Paris and the 30th anniversary of the opening of the Bastille theatre. Whatever you think about Tcherniakov, he certainly rises to the big challenge and occasion and doesn't compromise on his own vision (playing a little safe only perhaps at La Scala with La Traviata in 2013).

The director's strength is often in harnessing and clarifying the undercurrents that drive an opera and present them in a modern way, but his direction of singers to be capable actors and persuade them to come on board with his ideas is also superb. That doesn't mean overriding the intentions of the composer, and in fact Tcherniakov's approach to Les Troyens is a measure of trust in Berlioz's work itself. It can be updated, it's not just a historical work - either in mythological or musicological terms - but a work that confronts human fears about war and terrorism on the one hand and love, healing and security on the other.


Is there anything more to Les Troyens than that? Well, of course there is. As it stands, Berlioz's masterwork doesn't need to be 'filled out', 'clarified' or 'updated', but that doesn't mean that you can't read between the lines and interpret human actions and motivations. Not everyone will like the interpretation that Tcherniakov has proposed and the professional boo-ers at the Bastille certainly don't (which makes you wonder why else they continue to go, since creative modernisation has been the case at least since Gérard Mortier's period in charge of the Paris Opera), but it's valid to interpret and see the work as more than just a grand spectacle.

Part 1 of the work, La prise de Troie, does indeed present a very different spin on Virgil's epic account of the siege of Troy, Tcherniakov placing it in a Russian or Soviet setting that is much more familiar and easier to elaborate on the underlying tensions and reality of war. He marks a strong distinction straight off between King Priam and the royal family in their wood-panelled mansion and the ordinary people fighting on the streets, taking the time with large titles to ensure that the audience know who each member of the legendary Trojan family are and what the relationship is that lies between them, while a running commentary on the developments of the coming to an end of the ten-year long siege are rolled out on breaking news TV ticker-tape reports.


Cassandra addresses her premonitions then to a crew of shocked news reporters who are expecting a more positive outlook from the royal family, which is a nice touch but it's not exactly new (Krzysztof Warlikowski did something similar with his Princess Di lookalike Alceste for Madrid in 2014). Where Tcherniakov dares to go further than most however is in projecting the imagined thoughts of the royal cortege and the elements of distrust that lie between them during the solemn ceremony for the Trojan dead. Contributing to that - much more controversially - is the suggestion that Cassandra has been abused as a child by her father Priam (perhaps accounting for her being something of an outsider), and Aeneas is seen collaborating with the Greeks (which accounts perhaps for feelings of guilt and trauma later).

In terms of spectacle and the sheer horror of the war that you expect to find overwhelming in this part of Les Troyens, the Paris production is effective on every level. Philippe Jordan finds the dark undercurrents in Berlioz's music and there's a fine cast of singers to play out these deeper undercurrents that lend it additional weight. More often associated with opéra-comique and Baroque opera, you wouldn't expect Stéphanie d'Oustrac to carry that necessary dramatic weight as Cassandra, and she does sound a little light in places, but it's a strong performance of great conviction and it's supported by the likes of Stéphane Degout as Chorèbe, Brandon Jovanovich as Énée and Véronique Gens as Hécube. It makes the fate of Troy more present. Or maybe not 'more' since Berlioz's composition has been proven to work effectively as long as it has scale, grandeur and conviction, and it certainly has all those elements, Tcherniakov's direction in no way diminishing the impact.


Which, of course is only half the story, since Les Troyens à Carthage has even more of a spin placed on it. Rather than arrive in Dido's Carthage, the displaced survivors Aeneas and his crew spend the second half of Berlioz's epic end up in a PTSD centre for victims of the war. Énée is almost catatonic from the trauma and guilt for his part in the downfall of Troy, hearing voices in his head calling 'Italie!', with only occasional moments of lucidity and spurring into action coming through group therapy role play battles and relaxation yoga sessions that bring about that "nuit d'ivresse et d'extase infinie' with Dido, who has also been dealing with loss and bereavement and is also looking to find peace.

It all perhaps takes away from the romanticism of the work in favour of psychological realism, and perhaps romanticism is actually more in keeping here for Berlioz. For a modern audience too perhaps an escape from the brutal reality of the world outside wouldn't be such a bad thing. So we really need to see the contemporary world reflected and imposed upon Les Troyens? Well that would depend on what you want to get out of the work, whether you see it (and Latin epic poetry) as having contemporary relevance, or whether it's just escapist grand opera musical entertainment and spectacle.

Tcherniakov nonetheless is successful in tapping into the undercurrents (even if he has to invent some if it to fit) and in how they are relevant to today. The spectacle is there too in La prise de Troie, even if it the glamour is undercut by Les Troyens à Carthage, but I'd argue that all the romanticism and escapism is there still in the music. Philippe Jordan is mindful of Berlioz's musical sensibilities and influences and he plays to the works melodic colours and dramatic strengths. Brandon Jovanovich and Ekaterina Semenchuk also bring a new colour to the royal couple with soft lyrical sweetness that taps into their sensitivities and their past suffering, very much humanising the characters in line with Tcherniakov's direction and purpose. After an effective La prise de Troie however, Les Troyens à Carthage becomes repetitive, lacking in ideas and consistency, its purpose increasingly distant from the grander vision of Berlioz.

Links: L'Opéra national de Paris, ARTE Concert

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

Chausson - Le Roi Arthus (Paris, 2015 - Webcast)

Ernest Chausson - Le Roi Arthus

L'Opéra National de Paris, 2015

Philippe Jordan, Graham Vick, Sophie Koch, Thomas Hampson, Roberto Alagna, Alexandre Duhamel, Stanislas de Barbeyrac, François Lis, Peter Sidhom, Cyrille Dubois, Tiago Matos, Ugo Rabec

Culturebox - 28 May 2015

There's nothing too complicated about Graham Vick and Paul Brown's concept and sets for this production of Chausson's Le Roi Arthus (King Arthur) at the Paris Opera. Evidently with Vick, it's not going to be period King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table wearing suits of armour, but then Chausson's opera has very little to do with the myth or even adherence to traditional characterisation. Except in one respect. It's really nothing more than a variation on the common opera theme of the illicit love affair that betrays a king, and really if it wasn't set as King Arthur, the characters here could be replaced by others without any significant changes. Like King Marke, Tristan and Isolde for example.

That hardly seems like a fair comparison, but it's a valid one, since Chausson's opera - his only opera and one that is rarely performed - does wear its Wagnerian influences heavily. Lancelot's love affair with the Queen Guinevere takes place in secret in the second scene of Act I, the couple intensely wrapped up in their love for one another as Lyonnel (Kurwenal) looks on worriedly, aware of the consequences of them being discovered by the king. Their declarations of love approaches a peak where they sing of their profound divine ecstasy and how the rest of the world seems like a confused dream, just as Mordred (Melot) rushes in, catches them in the act and is struck down by Tristan... er, I mean Lancelot.

Despite the evident aspirations to match these sentiments with Wagnerian through composition and sweeping crescendos of large orchestral forces; despite a few Ho-he-Ho-ho's and a labourer (Steersman) lament at the start of Act I, Chausson's score never even comes close to the soaring transcendence and ecstasy of Wagner. The comparison that is begged is unfortunate, for were it not for a libretto that is rather dull and domestic, having none of the profundity of Wagner's philosophical weight and poetic expression, Le Roi Arthus does actually have a musical force of its own or of a particular French post-Wagnerian tradition (Franck, Massenet) where it sits rather better.



The disparity between the musical qualities of Le Roi Arthus and the narrative of the libretto are unfortunately all too apparent in the production at the Opéra National de Paris. Graham Vick can't find any real conceptual element to grasp onto other than the rather domestic nature of the drama. Arthur's Britons are more like Glastonbury hippies who, after defeating the Saxons, rope their swords into a circle and build a flat-pack house for their King. Scattered books speak of the disarray that follows, and a red plastic sofa speaks of the lust that upsets the cosy atmosphere of the happy family. Is there any deeper level to be drawn out here that Vick is missing by not setting it in Arthurian times? I don't think so.

It's well worth applying more attention however to Philippe Jordan's conducting of the orchestra of the Opéra National de Paris. Divided into three acts with two scenes each, all separated by symphonic interludes, Jordan reveals more than the superficial Wagner similarities that the narrative leads one to hear. Aside from the symphonic interludes, the scoring and performance of Arthur in Act II, Scene II suggests a closer affinity with Golaud from Pelléas et Mélisande, or even King Phillip II from Verdi's Don Carlo. That kind of wealth of influence and reference is there in Chausson's scoring, and Jordan brings out the whole dynamic and range of the possibilities that are there in the music.

If only it was all put in the service of something worthwhile, as the characterisation in Le Roi Arthus seems to have no real-life foundation or insight of its own. Arthur has none of the complexity of Phillip II and is indeed little more than the kind ruler (in chunky wool cardigan) suffering the anguish of suspicions and cruelly betrayed by his closest friend and his wife. Lancelot is all conflicted between love and duty, struggling over questions of honour and nobility, but prone to being swayed by the machinations of a woman. And, yes, that's about the level that Guinevere operates on, having no qualms about her actions, able to brazenly carry on with Lancelot and lie to Arthur, manipulating both men away from their finer nature.



Within the restrictions of those poorly defined personality traits, the cast nonetheless perform admirably, all of them well suited to this repertoire. Written as it is, you can even indulge Le Roi Arthus as being the only way you'll ever hear Sophie Koch and Roberto Alagna singing Tristan und Isolde. Koch fares better in the Wagnerian stakes as she has such experience and ability in the mezzo-soprano roles. She brings a thrilling intensity here to a wonderfully scored but ultimately rather thankless role. While it's clear that Alagna could never sustain the demands of a Tristan and is stretched at the more intense parts of Le Roi Arthus, he's in his element as the romantic hero and consequently terrific in the main as Lancelot. Thomas Hampson's voice isn't as robust as it once was, but he is still commanding here as Arthur and particularly impressive in his 'Ella gaimmai m'amo' scene.

It's in Arthur that there is some room to expand on the themes of Le Roi Arthus as being a little more than run of the mill domestic drama. The aforementioned scene does see Arthur's world implode, his abandonment by Guinevere and his betrayal by Lancelot cutting deeply, hitting a strong king at his weak point. In it he sees the collapse of everything he has strived to achieve, leaving the way open only to death. He calls out to Merlin, seeking power beyond what is human, but Chausson's score - as rich as it is and as all Parsifal-like as it gets to in the Third Act finale, is inadequate to take the piece to that other level where that work, Tristan und Isolde, Don Carlos and Pelléas et Mélisande all reside.

Links: Culturebox

Sunday, 7 April 2013

Mernier - La Dispute



Benoît Mernier - La Dispute

La Monnaie-De Munt, Brussels, 2013

Patrick Davin, Karl-Ernst Herrmann, Ursel Herrmann, Stéphane Degout, Stéphanie d'Oustrac, Julie Mathevet, Albane Carrère, Cyrille Dubois, Guillaume Andrieux, Dominique Visse, Katelijne Verbeke

La Monnaie - Internet Streaming, March 2013

For his second opera the Belgian composer Benoît Mernier set about trying to find a text that would work with that particular quality of opera that is able to touch on mythological and universal subjects and make them vital and human.  The subject of La Dispute, based on an eighteenth century drama by Marivaux has a theoretical, experimental edge as well as a human drama at its centre which makes it a perfect fit for Mernier's intentions.  It's one consequently that the composer scores with precision and sensitivity, even if neither he nor the production entirely succeeds in bringing it to life.

It's somewhat appropriate however that Marivaux text, written in 1744, is treated musically in Mernier's La Dispute not entirely unlike a French Baroque opera.  At the outset, in the first dispute, you have Cupid and Amour defending their respective positions of influence over the human heart, Cupid advocating liberty and freedom of choice, Amour seeing him/herself as the protector of romance and fidelity.  Who is to blame then when the rot sets in, as it seems to be doing in another dispute that is taking place in the mortal world between the Prince and Hermiane?  Having been caught dallying with another woman at a party, the couple's argument takes a theoretical turn as they debate whether it is the man or the woman who is ultimately responsible for infidelity.



To answer that question, the Prince says, you would need to go back to the beginning of time to the first man and woman, which of course is impossible.  Enter Cupid and Amour, disguised as Mesrou and Carise, who are just as interested in the resolution of this question.  It just so happens that they have four young people, two of each sex, brought up in isolation with no outside influences and completely unaware of each other.  Wouldn't it be interesting to see how these perfect subjects interact with each other?  Wouldn't an experiment undertaken under these strict laboratory conditions provide some insight into the matter being disputed?

What develops does indeed follow the lines of a dispassionate scientific experiment and, unfortunately, that seems to apply to the music and the opera as a whole.  Like George Benjamin's recent Written on Skin, one wonders whether it is even possible now to really engage with operatic characters in modern opera or whether there isn't necessarily always going to have to be some kind of detached observation and commentary.  It's all a little too coldly calculated here in La Dispute which never really seems to come to life for all the accuracy of the observations.  The conflicts of Amour and Cupid and the Prince and Hermiane are really just a framework then, one that has been filled out by the librettists Ursel Herrmann and Joël Lauwers from other Marivaux texts, while the main part of the work indeed focuses on the lab experiment of the two young couples who are gradually revealed to each other.

This experiment takes place under observation within a brilliantly designed set by Karl-Ernst and Ursel Herrmann, a neon lit cube framework within a Garden of Eden-like environment cut off from the real world.  First we meet Églé, a young woman enchanted by her own reflection in a stream, who finds her belief in her own beauty validated when she is introduced to the adoring Azor.  The young couple, who have never seen anyone other than Mesrou and Carise, are inevitably totally enraptured with the discovery of each other.  Until, that is, they become aware of another young couple, Adine and Mesrin.  Then, as they become less certain of their own uniqueness and start to develop insecurities, things begin to get complicated.



Principally, the answer to the question of 'la dispute' would appear to be clear enough from how things develop.  The insecurities initially arise when the two women, Églé and Andrine, meet each other.  It's not a pretty sight.  Jealousy arises out of the thought that someone might regard the other as more beautiful than themselves and that person becomes a threat.  The only way to prove one's superiority it seems is to win over the other's lover, and since they are merely men that is not a difficult object to achieve.  This might seem a rather slight if not entirely inaccurate observation, but it ought to be developed further and on a less theoretical level by the various other levels of the dispute.  There is a little more edge and ambiguity introduced through the human presence of the Prince and Hermiane, but not to any real conclusive end.  But perhaps a true conclusion ought not to be reached other than making the observation that, ultimately, human feelings cannot entirely be understood or even trusted.

When you are getting into such matters in opera, this is where the music should say more than the text, but unfortunately - beautiful though it is - Benoît Mernier's score doesn't reveal any great depths to these academic characters.  There's something academic about the score also, which accompanies the situations perfectly, picking at the characters' hesitant first steps, showing developing emotional awareness and curiosity, extending out into more complex personality traits as the characters interact through some marvellously written duets, but little of it seems to hint at anything more than is already apparent in the text and the dramatic situations alone.  The musical language inevitably leans towards Debussy, but without the mystery and haunting impressionism.

If it doesn't entirely come to life then or reveal any great depths, the qualities of the singing, the production and indeed the work itself are still clearly apparent.  Stéphane Degout and Stéphanie d'Oustrac are two of the finest talents in French opera and sing beautifully here, but they aren't really given a lot to work with in characters as insubstantial as the Prince and Hermiane.  There's rather more of a challenge in the roles of the young couples, and Julie Mathevet and Cyrille Dubois stand out as Églé and Azor, but there is fine work and good interaction also with Albane Carrère's Adine and Guillaume Andrieux's Mesrin.  Dominique Visse throws himself fully into another ambiguous cross-dressing role as Amour/Carise with verve and personality, and is matched in this by Katelijne Verbeke's Cupid/Mesrou.



The clarity of the diction and the purity of the singing voices are supported by a meticulously arranged score that is perfectly balanced between spoken accompanied dialogue, arioso singing, duets and purely musical interludes in a way that allows each of the singers and their dramatic expression to stand clear and shine.  The Hermann's sets, lighting and direction also work to enhance every aspect of the dramatic text, everything coming together to provide a superb spectacle and beautiful accompaniment for an interesting work that nonetheless never amounts to more than the sum of its parts.

La Monnaie/De Munt's production of La Dispute was broadcast on the internet via their web streaming service, the performance recorded on the 10th and 13th February 2013.  It's available for viewing until 17th April 2013.  Subtitles are in French, Dutch and German only.  The next broadcast from La Monnaie is Pelléas et Mélisande, which will be made available for viewing for three weeks from 4th May 2013.