Giuseppe Verdi - Aida
Royal Swedish Opera - Stockholm, 2018
Pier
Giorgio Morandi, Michael Cavanagh, Christina Nilsson, Ivan Defabiani,
Katarina Dalayman, Lennart Forsén, Alessio Cacciamani, Johan Edholm,
Jihan Shin, Jessica Forsell
OperaVision - April 2018
If
there's one Verdi opera that needs to be continually reassessed and
reconsidered in terms of whether it still has any real relevance or
anything to say to a modern audience it's probably La Traviata, but Aida
isn't far behind. Both works might have been fuelled by real anger
against social institutions, but if they ever did have anything
important to say it's easy for it to get lost in the star power and
glamour that the operas' settings and subjects inevitably attract. La
Traviata however can be immensely powerful and hard-hitting about
society's treatment of women when it's allowed to be, and condemnation
of the horrors of war in Aida need not necessarily be submerged under
the bombast of Verdi's score and the pomp and ceremony of grand opera
spectacle.
You do have to question the effectiveness of
Verdi's treatment in Aida however, in how it seems to get carried away
with its exotic setting and location, in the attention that Verdi pays
towards Eastern-influenced melodies, grand religious ceremonies and
ceremonial triumphal marches before royalty. With the melodramatic turns
of love, family and duty all becoming intertwined, it threatens to
overshadow the anti-war, anti-religious sentiments that are there, but
there have been some notable attempts (and failures) to move away from
the glamour and address the real issues at the heart of the work - if
you consider that they were ever really there.
The short
overture to Aida certainly reflects a more sombre note, and in Michael Cavanagh's production for the Royal Swedish Opera, that's immediately
established as being associatedwith the more intimate story of
the individuals whose lives have suffered because of the demands placed
on them by the 'state'. We already see Aida and Radamès buried alive in
the tomb that descends to show a figure we can presume in Amneris, lying
face down in a pool of blood with a knife by her side. The note of
melancholy that can also be found in Radamès ode to an impossible love
for a slave girl of his nation's enemy ('Celeste Aida') is soon
overwhelmed by cries of 'war and death' as the news of Amonasro's
advance is brought by the High Priest, Ramfis.
It's in
such contrasts however that Aida does effectively present the conflict
between the individual's hope and dreams and the necessity of putting
them aside for something as monstrous as war. Radamès's personal
conflict is mirrored in the situation of Aida later in the opera when
she is torn between her love for Radamès and her love for her father,
Amanasro, the King of Ethiopia whose armies have been routed and taken
captive by the Egyptian commander and his forces. There's also very much
a case put of there being no real victors when it comes to war. "Today
we are the victims of fate, tomorrow fate may strike you", Amonasro
warns Radamès, and history has shown the truth of such turns of fate in
the downfalls of the great.
This aspect is borne out and
elaborated upon quite successfully in the Stockholm production even if
the focus is very much on the small personal drama. It's hard to
criticise the production on those grounds, as this is indeed very much
how it is played by Verdi. So yes, Aida has musical and dramatic flaws,
or even if you don't consider them flaws - and it's perfectly valid to
enjoy the opera for the music and singing for what it is - you still
adjust the emphasis at your peril. Olivier Py's scattershot Paris production demonstrated the risks inherent in that whereas the chamber
approach as seen more recently in the La Monnaie production, touched
much more effectively on the true nature of the work in a way that
prevented it from it appearing dated and out of touch with the times.
Magdalena
Åberg's set and costume designs for the Royal Swedish Opera production
are unimposing, but there is a balance struck between modern military
uniforms with AK47 rifles and some nods to the Egyptian heritage of the
work with its robes and ceremonies. The production does well to avoid
the familiar imagery and processional choreography, presenting a more
minimal stage with a gold wall in the background and blue lighting that
nonetheless retains an air of a royal palace with notions of strict
protocol and order. So there's a fresh modern outlook on the work at the
same time as the necessary contrasts between the institutions of the
state and the ordinary citizen are marked out well; contrasts that focus
on the intimate love story at the heart of the work, one crushed by the
weight of those powers that Verdi depicts so dramatically.
The
main issue that has to be dealt in a production of Aida is in how to
present it's Triumphal March; whether to make it a glorious spectacle or
undercut it with realism. Cavanagh's approach wisely takes a dim view
of celebrating slaughter, so while the chorus and trumpets are
proclaiming victory and the greatness of their King, we are shown scenes
of the reality of the war that Radamès has waged against the Ethiopian
tribes. And it is very much that of a large military force, bulked out
in combat gear with every precision targeting technology at their
disposal, bringing horror to the lives of ordinary citizens. It's very
well staged - with curtains blocking off live vignette scenes rather
than using projections - and it hammers home the horror of the contrast
between the ideal of duty and the reality for Radamès.
Musically,
Pier Giorgio Morandi conducts an excellent performance that plays well
to the contrasts of Verdi's melodies and the variety of sentiments
within it without letting it get too sentimental. The singing
performances, despite some initial reservations with timing and technique,
are also quite good, and backed up with a superb chorus. You have to
pity any young tenor who has to launch straight into an aria like
'Celeste Aida' with barely time to warm up, but Ivan Defabiani's Radamès
really comes through spectacularly later with a performance that builds
in character and confidence. Christina Nilsson as Aida also takes a
short while to find her feet after 'Ritorna vincitor', but likewise
gives a fine performance, the two of them making a convincing young
couple whose love is challenged by the scorned Amneris. Katarina Dalayman shows the right kind of
imperiousness tinged with regret, although her voice is lacking some of
the necessary force. It's in this small scale drama that the bigger
picture is reflected, bearing out the words spoken earlier that "Today
we are the victims of fate, tomorrow fate may strike you".
Links: Royal Swedish Opera, OperaVision
Giuseppe Verdi - Rigoletto
L'Opéra National de Paris, 2016
Pier Giorgio Morandi, Claus Guth, Francesco Demuro, Franco Vassallo, Irina Lungu, Andrea Mastroni, Vesselina Kasarova, Isabelle Druet, Mikhail Kolelishvili, Michal Partyka, Christophe Berry, Tiago Matos, Andreea Soare, Adriana Gonzalez, Florent Mbia
Bastille, Paris - 14 May 2016
There's been a very evident attempt to make the artistic direction of the Paris Opera a bit more cutting edge again under its new director Stephane Lissner, but Claus Guth's setting of Rigoletto in a brown cardboard box seems to being taking things a little too far. It's hardly the most attractive or imaginative representation for the dramatic setting of the opera in Mantua, and it's hard to imagine how it could even suit the purposes of Guth's usually intense psychological exploration of character and motivation.
It's not so much the case that Mantua and its royal court are represented by a cardboard box however as much as it's Rigoletto's regrets that are packed away in the box. The broken and dishevelled jester walks to the front of the stage at the start of the opera, wearing a grimy overcoat, his whitened clown make-up scored with deep creases, carrying a box that holds his only possessions. Rigoletto despairingly draws out a clown suit and a bloodstained white dress and the opera commences in flashback all within the confines of the larger box that fills the stage.
It's a relatively straightforward device in that respect and there's actually not any real licence taken with the characters or the drama elsewhere. The period is vague and non-specific, the costumes period in style for opening royal court scene, even if the set is plain brown corrugated cardboard, but it gradually moves into more modern styled dress as the opera progresses. As plain as the set is, it's functional, requiring few changes between acts - a staircase added in Act II, some of the flaps opening to provide doorways for the tavern scene and some projections are used. It consistently remains a representation of Rigoletto's life after the event being reduced to the contents of a cardboard box.
For deeper exploration of character then and the complex father/daughter issues at the heart of the work, Guth relies on another familiar device often employed in his productions; the use of doubles. Rigoletto in the flashback is represented by the singer, but the actor who 'unboxed' the memory is frequently present on the stage at the same time, distraught and helpless, unable to intervene and change what has already occurred. This added level of regret does highlight Rigoletto's folly to some extent and bring a little more intensity to the scenes, but no more really than you if you've seen the opera before and already know what is ahead.
Gilda is similarly split and not just to one double but to a series of Gildas in dancers of different ages. Unsurprisingly, these younger Gildas are intended to show the young girl as an innocent, but more than that they also reflect her 'growth'. Rigoletto's protection of Gilda means that her growth is stunted in a way that leads to her innocence being cruelly abused when it comes into contact with the real world, but it does bring about a twisted kind of growth that can also account for her sacrifice in the final act. It's nothing new, just another way to emphasise or perhaps 'translate' a more melodramatic device from the past into one that carries a little more credibility for a modern audience today.
What appears to be given more emphasis in Guth's version that is not so often explored is the relationship between the assassin Sparafucile and Rigoletto, since Sparafucile when he first appears acts as a mirror image of Rigoletto. Again, this is just emphasising what is there in the libretto, Rigoletto even acknowledging that the two men are alike, only one kills with words while the other kills with the sword. Drawing attention to this however does put greater emphasis on the cowardice of the jester, his hiding his failure to act behind words, just as he hides his identity from his daughter. This of course comes back to haunt him and in this version - as it's done in flashback - he already knows it, which only intensifies his failure and his pitiful attempts to shift the blame onto a 'maledizione'.
Cardboard box aside then, Guth's Rigoletto sticks fairly closely to the accepted characterisation with only a little shift of where the emphasis lies and it's fairly successful in where it applies them. In the first Act at least however, it's not at all certain that the music and singing performances measure up to it. It all feels somewhat half-hearted and routine. As is usually the case with Rigoletto however, I find that you have to reserve judgement until Act II and Act III. Which, as an aside, makes me begin to wonder whether the first Act is really all it's cracked up to be. It certainly has all the elements in place and Verdi spices it up with plenty of dramatic colour and some famous arias, but it rarely ever seems to take off. Guth's production doesn't really help matters here in Paris.
Act II and III however, while the direction doesn't particularly contribute much more to the production, are indeed more alive and engaging, which suggests that Act I is really just a prelude to set the scene or act as a counterbalance for the fireworks in the subsequent Acts. Accordingly, there's a noticeably more invigorating drive from Pier Giorgio Morandi's conducting of the orchestra that is matched by what takes place on the stage and in the singing. Franco Vassallo's Rigoletto is by no means one of the great interpretations of the role, but there was no sign of faltering or being challenged by it. The 'Cortigiani' is a good measure of a Rigoletto and Vassallo was more than capable, carrying the role well but not really inspired or even truly fired-up.
The same could be said about most of the other roles in these second cast performances for the later run of the 2016 production. Francesco Demuro's Duke of Mantua was however by far the most impressive, his bright tenor voice clear and ringing, sailing through 'La donna è mobile' with such charm that it appeared natural and effortless. We didn't get to see much of the Duke's 'evil' side, but that was more of a directing decision and a surprising omission for Guth since the Duke seems the most obvious dual-personality in the opera. Irina Lungu had a few wavers, but rose to the challenges of Gilda's role and brought some personality to it. Andrea Mastroni was fine if not making as menacing a Sparafucile as you might like. Vesselina Kasarova is, to say the least, an acquired taste, but she is capable of some interesting interpretations. Not her Maddalena unfortunately, which was wayward, wooly and largely inaudible, her voice now losing much of its former force.
Even if it wasn't traditionally staged and the singing wasn't of the highest standards, the Paris Rigoletto hit the mark sufficiently at all the necessary dramatic and musical points. Act I carried off the tricky staging of Gilda's abduction stylishly if not naturalistically, mainly through the choreography of the courtiers in their masks, the scene ending with the thundering accompaniment to Rigoletto's dread of Monterone's curse. Act II's duets had pace and fury in equal measure and although the staging of Gilda's death scene remained largely off-stage, represented only by a falling curtain, the full impact of the scene was felt.
This performance of Rigoletto was viewed at the Bastille on the 14th May 2016. A recording of the production with the alternative cast that includes Olga Peretyatko (Gilda), Quinn Kelsey (Rigoletto) and Michael Fabiano (Rigoletto) is currently available streaming on-line on France TV's Culturebox website, although region restrictions are in place.
Links: L'Opéra National de Paris, Culturebox
