Mussorgsky - Khovanshchina (DNO, 2016 - Amsterdam)

Modest Mussorgsky - Khovanshchina

Dutch National Opera, 2016

Ingo Metzmacher, Christof Loy, Dmitry Ivaschenko, Maxim Aksenov, Kurt Streit, Gábor Bretz, Orlin Anastassov, Anita Rachvelishvili, Olga Savova, Andrei Popov, Svetlana Ignatovitch, Roger Smeets, Vasily Efimov, Morschi Franz, Vitali Rozynko, Sulkhan Jaiani, Richard Prada

Nationale Opera & Ballet, Amsterdam - 16 March 2016

With its complex view of Russian history and society, Khovanshchina must be one of the most overreachingly ambitious works of opera ever undertaken, the piece worked on by Mussorgsky for nine years before being left still in an unfinished state after the composer's death. Pulling the work together into something more coherent has been a challenge for other composers including Rimsky-Korsakov and Shostakovitch, but Khovanshchina is still an enormous challenge to stage. The Dutch National Opera's new production directed by Christof Loy bravely takes on the challenge, but almost inevitably it's not entirely successful.

There's a lot to get up on the stage in Khovanshchina, both physically and conceptually. Mussorgsky's great unfinished work is layered not only with the various political factions competing for power or even simply survival under the reign of the new ruler Peter the Great, but it also takes in the wider strata of society that is comprised of nobles, soldiers, religious factions and the common worker. All those various entities are further boiled down into the form of individual people with personal lives that are greatly affected by the uncertainty and the brutality of the times. It's a huge slice of Russian history up there on the stage in a fragmentary drama. No wonder Mussorgsky tried and failed to finish such a work.

It's no wonder too that Khovanshschina often fails on the stage. The recent Vienna production was heavily criticised for its static nature - this is a work that surely should be anything but static - but its vertical staging there did at least succeed in establishing the hierarchical nature of the Russian society and the attempts by each to climb its heights and end up falling low. Christof Loy's new production of the opera for the DNO similarly attempts to establish a construct that puts the work into context by connecting it to the present day, but in a work that already gives you a lot to take in, it's perhaps an unnecessary complication that doesn't really yield any greater insights into the Russia of the past or the present.

It wouldn't be the first time I haven't followed exactly what Loy is attempting to get across in his productions and yet have still been impressed at how he still gets the essence and full impact of the work across. The initial idea and inspiration behind the DNO's Khovanshchina is at least transparent, the curtain rising to reveal a tableau vivant of Vasily Surikov's 1881 painting 'Morning of the Streltsy's Execution', the epic scene of the painting reproduced in large scale behind the figures on the stage. One notable difference between the painting and the stage is the overturned cart and the dead white horse, both of which adorn the stage throughout most of the five acts. It's symbolism writ large, to which you can apply whatever meaning that comes to mind as you listen to the equally epic music that accompanies the unfolding horror of the events that lead up to the scene depicted in the painting.

Once the first act gets underway however we get the more familiar Christof Loy touches. The characters, or some of them at least, strip out of their period costumes and into modern-day suits. There remains a mix of period and modern dress that is evidently intended to draw a connection to how the past has influenced the present, but it's hard to see any direct link, particularly as there is enough to take in and remain focussed on just working out who the various historical factions are and where their allegiances lie. That actually is established fairly well, but whatever commentary is being made about the present regime, or whether there even is a direct commentary here, is less easy to discern.

More than just stripping off period historical baggage that might mean little to a modern audience, Loy's minimalism also serves to de-clutter the stage for those key scenes where Mussorgsky's epic drama has perhaps its greatest impact. Many of those scenes involve filling the stage for the huge choral pieces and crowd scenes that make such an impression and are such a vital part of a work that is about the Russian people, but Loy's quirky approach also achieves impact and results in other scenes of high drama such as the murder of Ivan Khovansky that precipitates the fall of the Streltsy. The dance of the Persian slaves for the Prince is performed by very young girls in shiny dresses (to the background of a glitter curtain) and it's superbly choreographed and performed, creating a suitably sinister environment even before Khovansky is stabbed by a little girl standing innocently alongside him.

Loy employs many such touches, large and small, including a marching brass band on the stage and, by no means least since he has a tremendous resource at his disposal, making good use of the chorus. This is my first live experience of the famous DNO chorus, although I have seen and heard them many times on DVD and on Dutch radio NTR4, and you couldn't ask for another work that would display their talents more fully than Khovanshchina. Their input was simply phenomenal. If it's hard to say that Loy succeeded in putting all of Russia on the stage, the chorus nonetheless contributed greatly towards it, and it helped also that there was also a cast of fine Russian principal singers in this production.

Among a consistently strong line-up, Anita Rachvelishvili was most impressive as Marfa and Dmitry Ivaschenko an authoritative Khovansky, but Kurt Streit also held his own among all those Russian voices with a fine performance as Prince Golitsin. Ingo Metzmacher conducted the orchestra through the Shostakovitch edition of the work, which might not have the same epic quality and refinement of the Rimsky-Korsakov's version, but in line with the production, the singing and the acting performances, the emphasis was on the importance of the individual human stories caught up in the vast scope of the historical period drama. On that level at least, this was certainly a successful account of the work.

Links: Nationale Opera & Ballet, NTR4 Radio Broadcast

Weill - Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny (Royal Opera House 2015 - Cinema Live)

Kurt Weill - Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny

Royal Opera House, 2015

Mark Wigglesworth, John Fulljames, Anne Sofie von Otter, Peter Hoare, Willard W. White, Christine Rice, Kurt Streit, Jeffrey Lloyd-Roberts, Darren Jeffery, Neal Davies, Hubert Francis

Royal Opera House, Cinema Live - 1 April 2015
 
What is both clever and great about Weill and Brecht's Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny is that as long as we live in a society that is centred around capitalism and commerce, its message is always going to be pertinent and relevant. Inevitably there's much made of how the message of the work reflects our own current economic downturn, but even if we lived in boom times, the opera would still show fairly accurately the kind of 'Wolf of Wall Street' excess and vulgarity, the moral and social breakdown that inevitably follows when the acquisition of obscene amounts of money it seen as an end in itself. There's not much to be said for capitalism, is there?

As well as being clever (and true), this is however part of the problem with the work as it stands as an opera. It's rather preachy. Its parable of the building of a city by three criminals whose founding principles are based on nothing more than exploiting its transient citizens for every penny they can get out of them (no money left, you'll feel the full weight of the law - immigrants welcome, as long as you have something (money, cheap labour) to contribute) is more of a concept than a plot, and it lacks genuine engagement. It's true that Bertolt Brecht was more interested in gaining the intellectual participation of the audience than their emotional engagement or identification with the characters, but for the work to succeed on the opera stage today, it needs a little more of a bite to shake a modern audience out of its complacency.

Perhaps Brecht didn't anticipate, considering its evident failings as a model for social well-being and despite its superficial allure, that Capitalism could possibly turn out to be so pervasive as to be endorsed as a sine qua non, but then, it's clear from this work that he doesn't have too much faith in human nature being motivated by anything other than naked greed and self-interest. Nonetheless, the Royal Opera House production of Mahagonny does feel complacent. Not in terms of professionalism or performance - everything is well considered here - but it is a production that is designed for the opera stage for a Covent Garden audience, and it consequently fails to invite anything but a complacent shrug of recognition. 'That's so true', you think, 'but not much you can do to change it'.

For a regular opera, you don't really expect much more of a response than that, but Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny is not a regular opera and, consequently that's really not good enough. It's not entirely the fault of John Fulljames's direction for the Royal Opera House, but inherently a problem with the work itself. It's not the anti-opera that it sets out to be, but rather does end up preaching to a well-heeled audience that is not really going to consider its wealth vulgar, or have to worry that it will all disappear on binges of whoring and drinking. Weill might be partly to blame for how the musical language speaks and soothes away any unwelcome recognition, its jazz-influenced rhythms no longer as daring as they might once have been, but Brecht's heavy-handed mocking of capitalist society doesn't invite any real engagement or suggest alternatives either.

A stage director, set designer and a musical director willing to really engage with the message could however make more of a difference here. The problem with John Fulljames, Es Devlin and Mark Wigglesworth's interpretation is that it is resolutely opera house. They do justice to the letter of the work as it was written, and give every indication of the relevance of its intentions, but they don't find a way to update the nihilistic 1930's spirit of the opera in a way that would invite a modern audience to put aside their opera preconceptions. The La Fura dels Baus production at the Teatro Real, by way of comparison, managed to be a little more adventurous and inventive with the work, and conductor there, Pablo Heras Casado, managed to get more of the genuine swagger and swing of the orchestration. The production team at the Royal Opera House, on the other hand, don't really treat Weill and Brecht's work differently from the way they would approach any other opera commission.

Es Devlin's set designs are, it has to be said, inventive and very much find a modern way to envision the themes of the work - even if it tripped up the performers on one or two occasions. The city of Mahagonny comes literally from the back of a lorry, neatly compartmentalising the scenes in the first act, while the second and third acts add shipping containers to the construction. There are no niceties here, it's a city that has evolved out of the practicalities of delivering commercial products and services. That's as much a reflection of the abstraction of Brecht's alienation devices, inviting audiences to consider the "idea" of a city rather the concrete reality of a realistic set. We're now familiar with this kind of set design now however, and just as much depends on what you do within in. Unfortunately, John Fulljames doesn't find any original way of making consumption in this permissive society anything more than it is on the page. When you have actually seen worse in reality on the streets of modern metropolises, it's fairly tame stuff indeed.

So, instead of engaging with the ideas, there's not much else for the critic to review here other than the old fall-back of how good the singing performances are - as if Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny is just another work to be assessed in that peculiar view of opera as little more than a perpetual singing contest. Christine Rice was the probably the strongest voice here as Jenny, giving a great rendition of the famous Alabama Song, but for me she was much too plummy and operatic for the down-and-dirty role. Kurt Streit was best with character, but his singing was also strong, bright and lyrical, capturing the wild abandon of Jimmy McIntyre. If character realism is important here, and it's debatable, it would then colour your view of Anne Sofie von Otter's over-acted Widow Begbick, but it was an enjoyable characterisation, even if it apparent that her voice is no longer strong enough to carry the sung-recitative sections. Willard White's voice isn't as strong as it once was either but Trinity Jones is a familiar role for him, and he can still do it well.

This was a good performance then and highly entertaining, as professional as you would expect from the Royal Opera House, but something was still missing. Being aware of the content from a synopsis isn't usually an issue with opera - you can usually expect an infinite amount of variety in interpretation - but here, having laid it out beforehand in the pre-screening and interval features, it all played out a little too routinely and complacently. One thing Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny should never be is routine and complacent, but whether that's a problem with the Royal Opera House's production or the world itself worryingly becoming a parody of capitalism that outstrips anything in Kurt Weill and Bertolt Brecht's opera, one would like to think you'd get more out of this work than just a nice evening at the opera.

Links: The Royal Opera House

Mozart - La Clemenza di Tito (Paris, 2014 - Webcast)

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - La Clemenza di Tito 

Théâtre des Champs Elysées, Paris, 2014

Jérémie Rhorer, Denis Podalydès, Kurt Steit, Karina Gauvin, Julie Fuchs, Kate Lindsey, Julie Boulianne, Robert Gleadow

ARTE Concert - 18 December 2014

There are a few unusual features introduced by actor and director Denis Podalydès into this production of La Clemenza di Tito at the Théâtre des Champs Elysées in Paris. One is that you actually get to see and hear Berenice, the Queen rejected by Titus at the start of the opera. The second feature used by Podalydès is the setting of the work in France in the late 1930s-1940s during the time of the Occupation. It would seem doubtful that either of these elements have anything to add to Mozart's final opera or even whether Mozart's opera can help illuminate a significant period in modern French history, but there is unquestionably a vibrancy and an edge to this production that we rarely see in Mozart's late opera seria.

The inclusion of Berenice, the opening scene featuring an actress performing a scene from Racine's drama, is a bit of an actorly theatrical indulgence, but it's not entirely without merit. Berenice has an important part to play in what unfolds during the reign of Titus during this period as it is detailed in Metastasio's libretto, so it does serve some purpose to put a face to the name. The setting during the Occupation is never made explicit, but the period costumes and setting in the presidential suites of a large hotel do suggest that the rule of Titus is being compared to the running of the Vichy government during the war, otherwise why set it there at all?

I'm not sure that's a valid or helpful analogy to establish the nature of Titus' predicaments in La Clemenza di Tito - though it does provide some amusing ideas imagining Sextus as a Resistance fighter operating from within the regime. What it undoubtedly brings to the work however is a very distinct character, style and setting that has some concrete reality, and not the generic antiquity designs or the abstract symbols of power that usually characterise productions of this work. It looks stunning, but more than that, it enlivens and gives character to a difficult opera seria work where most of the action takes place off-stage, with the protagonists usually agonising over developments in long da capo arias.

In this Théâtre des Champs Elysées production, Podalydès rarely lets a character stand alone on the stage and sing these arias out to the audience. He fills the rooms of this elegant, wood-panelled apartment suite with government officials and administrators. All of them are smartly dressed in 1940s' suits designed by Christian Lacroix (the female characters perhaps not quite so elegantly fitted). There's always the bustle of people coming and going, giving a sense of real political activity going on, of events spiralling out of control behind the scenes. More than the inclusion of Berenice or the Occupation setting, what Podalydès really brings to La Clemenza di Tito is a sense of drama.

For a usually static opera seria, that's a useful attribute to have, and in the end it's the conviction of the acting and singing performances that really carry the inner drive of the work. The opening monologue prepares you for a completely theatrical experience (or, as it is filmed for the live broadcast - in widescreen - a near-cinematic experience) that simmers with tension and aching passions. La Clemenza di Tito rarely feels as dramatic as this, but it's through no fault of the work itself. It's all there in the music if the director is willing and imaginative enough to interpret it, and Podalydès does it very well indeed in collaboration with Jérémie Rhorer.

That suits Kurt Streit, who in a radio interview for the France Musique radio broadcast of this production, refers to himself as an actor first and a singer after that. In a production like this he is in his element, but he also has the right kind of voice for Titus. He's not as strong this time, but that light lyrical timbre is gorgeous. The right voices are also there in Julie Fuchs' sweet, delicate Servilia, Julie Boulianne's firm of purpose Annius and Robert Gleadow's grave Publius. Mostly however, it's Karina Gauvin who takes the acting credits as Vitellia, and she's powerful in the singing stakes as well. There's no caricature or stock opera seria characterisation here, Gauvin's Vitellia coming across genuinely like a woman scorned and vengeful, completely dominating the stage whenever she's on it.

Equally impressive is Kate Lindsey's Sextus, making this one formidable power couple! It's a committed and a nuanced performance, carrying real emotion and feeling. Combining impeccable technique and a flowing legato with real character insight, Lindsey transforms 'Deh per questo istante solo' into something truly remarkable, running through all the conflict of Sesto's position, and an almost ecstatic acceptance or controlled abandonment to the unenviable hand that fate has dealt him, a traitor at the mercy of a powerful ruler.

This ruler, Titus however is not like other rulers, he has 'un altro cor'. This production also has another heart, and it's that of Mozart, the qualities of each of the characters embodied in the music he has written for them. The musical performance of the work is not as showy as it can be, Jérémie Rhorer's conducting of the reduced period instrumentation of Le Cercle de l’Harmonie ensemble, restrained, simple and elegant, but it suits the nature of the opera seria, it supports the dramatic situation and it allows the singers the freedom to express the nature of the characters themselves. Whether the curiosities of the staging helped this or not, Denis Podalydès' production for the Théâtre des Champs Elysées in Paris got to the the heart of La Clemenza di Tito.

Links: ARTE Concert, Théâtre des Champs Elysées

Mozart - La Clemenza di Tito

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - La Clemenza di Tito

La Monnaie - De Munt, Brussels, 2013

Ludovic Morlot, Ivo van Hove, Kurt Streit, Véronique Gens, Simona Šaturová, Anna Bonitatibus, Anna Grevelius, Alex Esposito

La Monnaie Internet Streaming, November 2013

Mozart's final opera, written only months before his death, represents what seems like a backward step for the composer back to the old opera seria form, but the mature Mozart's approach is considerably different from earlier works written in this style. Ludovic Morlot's Baroque approach to the orchestration in this production of La Clemenza di Tito for La Monnaie in Brussels would also seem to lack the warmth and character that should perhaps be found in the work, while Ivo van Hove's modern staging would seem to be working against both the subject and the musical interpretation. Ultimately however, by giving due emphasis to the motivations and expression of the actual characters, all the necessary elements work remarkably well together to highlight the qualities that are rarely recognised in La Clemenza di Tito or presented as well as they are here.

Based on an old libretto by Metastasio which had previously been set to works by Caldara, Gluck, and Myslivicek - principally on account of Mozart accepting the commission to mark the coronation of Leopold II at short notice - the opera seria structure of the opera can be rather restrictive. Like all Metastasio's libretti however, the situations are rich enough to provide opportunity for the skilled composer to expand upon. The opening encounters between Vitellia and Sesto in Act I for example could be played as tedious scene-setting exposition for the melodramatic incidents that follow, so it is vital that they appear fully formed characters with strong, credible motivations. In the hands of Mozart - particularly at this stage in his career - that's exactly what you get, and it's really what sets La Clemenza di Tito apart from other settings and indeed, from many other examples of opera seria.

La Monnaie's production is superbly directed by Ivo van Hove in this respect, but it's also impressively realised by Véronique Gens as Vitellia and Anna Bonitatibus as Sesto. It's been noted that a successfully interpreted Sesto is half the battle with La Clemenza di Tito, but if that is so then Véronique Gens makes a good case that a credible and well-sung Vitellia for Sesto to work off is just as vital a component. The setting would appear to be given the same consideration since the whole work takes place here in what looks like a Presidential suite with a bed, a lamp and a desk, but it does nonetheless create a strong environment for the bedroom intrigue and the naked ambitions that are laid bare in the opening scenes. You can feel the simmering resentment on both sides, Vitellia over Tito's apparent choice of Berenice as his consort, Sesto over Vitellia's ambitions and how she is using him, but yet he still loves her.

This is the vital root of the conflict that drives the work, and it needs to be made real. It also needs to be built upon when Tito abandons Berenice and decides to marry Servilia instead. Mozart makes you feel Annio's despair at this decision, but any Baroque composer worth his salt can spin off an aria of torment and betrayal at the unjust whims of fate, the Gods and rulers insensitive to the feelings of their subjects. More than that, Mozart allows you through his music to understand why Annio accepts this unjust situation and bows to the will of his Emperor and it's vital to understanding the other vital component that contributes to a successful interpretation of this opera and what it is all about - the clemency of Tito.

The reason why Annio accepts Tito's choice of bride without complaint is covered in the libretto. He is unused to an Emperor who is open and just wants to hear plain speaking and the truth. Again, the conflict between duty and one's personal feelings is standard fare for the baroque composer, but in the hands of Mozart it's much more than this. With Mozart it's an expression of characters who are more fully rounded people with different aspects to their personality, where their true feelings aren't always visible. In line with Mozart's egalitarian views and humanistic beliefs, and reflecting the changing times, there's a real trust and belief in La Clemenza di Tito that people are essentially good. They make mistakes, they sometimes misunderstand intentions and inevitably conflict with the sensibilities of other people, but essentially, they want to do the right thing.

So while people do terrible things, Sesto setting fire to the Capitol and attempting to kill the Emperor, you should nonetheless be able to understand both where those motivations come from.  You should, in the above case, also get a real sense of the horror and the self-disgust that such actions engender in Sesto ('Oh Dei, che smania è questa') and the others ('Oh nero tradimento') at the injury that that been unjustly inflicted upon the person of such a good ruler. That's what La Clemenza di Tito is all about and Mozart's generosity of spirit and his belief in the nobility and the better nature of man warmly suffuses even the rather sterile nature of the opera seria.

I'm not convinced that Ludovic Morlot's conducting and arrangement of the score for the La Monnaie orchestra really gets across the sensitivity of Mozart's writing. It does seem fairly mechanical and reflective more of the Baroque opera seria than Mozart's rather warmer interpretation of it. On the other hand, the quality of the writing itself still comes through here. The contrast of the modern setting however probably works well to counteract any impression of a creaky old-fashioned plot played out on period instruments. The bedroom setting of Act I, with all its implications of bedroom power games, gives way to a crime scene, with forensic investigators in white protective suits trying to get solve the puzzle. Video cameras feature heavily throughout, projecting close-ups on a screen behind to capture the idea that these are important figures, but also revealing the telling details that make them human in this drama.

The magnificent singing and acting performances contribute to this and bear up well to the closer scrutiny. It's here that one gets much more effectively get to the heart of who the characters are and what the work is about. Kurt Streit has precisely the right kind of sweet tenor voice that convinces you that this is a ruler that it is easy to love and hard to refuse. His 'Ah, se fosse intorno al trono' is at least warmly accompanied by the orchestra to fully get his nature across. Véronique Gens is of course one of the finest singers in this repertoire with a beautiful voice that has real power, but it's how she controls it that makes all the difference to her artistry. Anna Bonitatibus is as credible in her acting performance as she is expressive in her singing the vital role of Sesto, giving real heart to the work and its expressions. Annio's role is also critical to the work as a whole and Anna Grevelius makes a real impression. La Monnaie don't stint on any aspect of this production however and there are also good contributions from Simona Šaturová as Servilia and Alex Esposito as Publio.

La Monnaie/De Munt's production of La Clemenza di Tito was broadcast on the internet via their web streaming service.  Subtitles are in French and Dutch only.  The next broadcast of the 2013-14 season, Ambroise Thomas' Hamlet will be available to view for free from 31 December 2013.

Berg - Lulu

Alban Berg - Lulu

Opéra National de Paris, 2011

Michael Schønwandt, Willy Decker, Laura Aikin, Jennifer Larmore, Andrea Hill, Marlin Miller, Wolfgang Schöne, Kurt Streit, Scott Wilde, Franz Grundheber, Robert Wörle, Victor Von Halem, Julie Mathevet, Marie-Thérèse Keller, Marianne Crebassa, Damien Pass, Ugo Rabec

Opéra Bastille, Paris - 18th October 2011

I know it’s considered one of the major works of 20th century opera, and it’s certainly one of the most important and influential works advocating the twelve-tone system – but I still find Lulu a difficult opera to love. Surprisingly, it’s less to do with the complexities of the musical arrangements, which actually feel perfectly fitting for the nature of the opera’s subject – with the use, abuse, decline and horrible murder of a woman at its core, it’s not supposed to be pretty – as much as failing to find a strong dramatic thread or conventional character development to grasp onto. But then, Alban Berg was presumably challenging these traditional concepts also.

It’s questionable then whether an opera that is built upon the deaths of many of Lulu’s lovers and which ends with her own murder as a prostitute at the hands of no less than Jack the Ripper, should be “prettified” by the impressive set designs and eye-catching choreography of Willy Decker’s production. Brightly lit with clean lines, Decker’s production has a sense of design and colour that makes it look like a Pet Shop Boys concert set in an IKEA store. Whether it looked appropriate or not, it at least felt right and, most importantly, it worked on a conceptual level, proposing an interesting new way of looking at Lulu.

Central to the opera and the image of Lulu is a portrait painted of her in the first scene of Act 1 – a critical scene that sets the tone for what is to follow. Interestingly, in Decker’s vision, the painting is made up of several canvasses that isolate and fetishise each part of her naked body like an exquisite corpse. An exquisite corpse – now that’s a great central concept and image for Lulu, for the objectification of the young woman under the gaze of countless men, each projecting their own lusts and desires upon a figure who is a composite of so many female and feminist archetypes.

That of course is the strength of the opera itself, but it’s also the aspect that is equally difficult to pin down dramatically or in any sense of characterisation, so Decker’s staging makes that a little more meaningful. Decker’s arrangements, placing the action within an arena for this combat of the sexes that ensues, the whole colourful cabaret watched over by a chorus of dark-suited anonymous figures in hats, all work towards this vision, even taking into consideration (definitely a part of the intention of Berg’s opera itself), the audience itself voyeuristically being a part of this woman’s abasement and destruction, all for their entertainment.

 

I still didn’t feel that I gained any greater understanding of the complicated parade of characters that flit through Lulu’s life (which may be a good thing), but every expression of lust, jealousy, joy, anguish, anger and violence was certainly fully felt and brought out in the production, in the singing and in the incredible performance of the Paris Orchestra. As compelling as events were on the stage, my attention was constantly drawn to Michael Schønwandt conducting the infinitesimally detailed score, drawing it all together remarkably. Lulu is one of Laura Aikin’s signature roles – I’ve seen her sing it before on DVD in a fine performance in Zurich under Franz Welser-Möst – but she still looks and sounds terrific. Utterly commanding in the role, she is riveting to watch. There were however no weak elements whatsoever in this production for the Paris Opéra, with Jennifer Larmore a wonderful Count Geschwitz, and Kurt Streit notable in the role of Alwa.

The production used the now common 1979 version of the opera, with the third act, left unfinished after Berg’s death in 1937, completed by Friedrich Cerha. The performance of the score by the Paris orchestra, as mentioned above, was something of a revelation – or perhaps, since this was the first time I had been to a live performance of Lulu, it just needs to be experienced in the theatre with a truly world class orchestra. That’s what we were treated to here, with the addition of great singing and a visually impressive but thoughtful stage production.