Meyerbeer - Le Prophète (Toulouse, 2017)

Giacomo Meyerbeer - Le Prophète

Théâtre du Capitole de Toulouse - 2017

Peter Flor, Stefano Vizioli, John Osborn, Kate Aldrich, Sofia Fomina, Mikeldi Atxalandabaso, Thomas Dear, Dimitry Ivashchenko, Leonardo Estévez

Culturebox

Opportunities to see a Meyerbeer opera are still rare enough, and rarer still the chance to see a Meyerbeer opera treated appropriately and played well. Once considered to be the foremost opera composer of the early-to-mid 19th century, admired by Wagner and Verdi alike, Meyerbeer's operas can now be hard to appreciate as musical dramas of any kind of depth or substance, but as the Toulouse production of Le Prophète bears out, given the right kind of treatment they can still impress and entertain an audience.

One of the issues with Meyerbeer is that his old-fashioned Grand Opéra style doesn't bear up well to modernism or revisionist reworkings, and it seems to sit better in the period and in the manner it was originally composed. Which can be a drawback in that it leaves Meyerbeer behind as a composer only of historical interest and his works as kind of museum curiosities, but perhaps there's a place for that; there's certainly an audience for it. And perhaps done correctly, there might even be some other qualities and depth that can be drawn out of the work. Le Prophète at least has some promising elements to it in that respect.

Thus far however attempts to drag Meyerbeer into the 20th or 21st century haven't been entirely successful. Despite the wonderfully operatic character of their stirring high melodramas, the historical religious conflict of Les Huguenots proved resistant to modernisation, the gothic horror of Robert le Diable gained little if anything from ironic detachment, and high seas adventure of L'Africaine almost sunk under the weight of an exotic love story blown up to epic proportions. Le Prophète is back in the historical religious melodrama of Les Huguenots, but this time Théâtre du Capitole de Toulouse play it more closely to the work's strengths and original intentions.

But certainly not play it down or with any kind of ironic detachment. Set in the 16th century in Dordrecht and Munster, Le Prophète has something of an edge in its drama of popular insurrection and religious conflict. The common people working in the fields under the feudal rule of Count Oberthal are growing increasingly dissatisfied with their enslavement and stirred by a group of Anabaptists wanting to overthrow the ruling order, they are ripe for insurrection. What they really need is a strong charismatic leader to spur them into action and the Anabaptists recognise the character of David in Jean de Leyde, a man who even has Joan of Arc like dreams and visions. He could be the prophet who leads the people to their emancipation.

Jean however is unwilling to join them in their cause as he is engaged to be married to Berthe, and his mother Fidès has just given her blessing to the union. It still needs the permission of Count Oberthal, and in true operatic fashion, the bass Count stands between them and their happiness. Outraged, Jean accepts the role the Anabaptists offer, stirs the people to revolution against the nobility, reignites their passion to finally take Munster by force, and becomes prophet-king, ready to ascend to the throne of Emperor. But is this what he really wanted, and what has happened to his beloved Berthe and his mother Fidès? Well, there it gets all operatic again.

It's almost a shame because Le Prophète is actually quite a dark story, and not just in its violent rebellion and overthrowing of the feudal system. Each of the characters also has a personal reason for their actions that is not entirely idealistic or altruistic. One of the Anabaptists who recruits Jean to their number is actually a disgruntled former employee of the Count Oberthal who holds a grudge against his old master. Jean de Leyde too is motivated by vengeance against the Count for taking Berthe from him. The female roles are less motivated by such slights, but in a way they too demand violent retribution, which of course comes at a cost.

There are possibilities, deeper motivations and lessons to explore in the opera, and Stefano Vizioli's production does that exceptionally well. It retains much of the grand historical epic quality of the work in the simple set designs, allowing space for grand crowd scenes, ceremonial arrangements, with an eye towards stylisation that is never intrusive. Bodies are strung up, prisoners are executed, and the image of a disembowelled cow hanging above the inn where Jean works in Act II and other abstract 'crowning' images hint at that darker side. It doesn't try to impose a dark character on the work as much as work along with its dynamic, even if that means lightening the character during some of Meyerbeer's more over-the-top arrangements.

You almost get the impression that Le Prophète is something of a self-defeating opera. One moment it paints a dark and bloody scene of violence, rape and execution, and the next moment you have a ballet followed by a disguised Oberthal indulging in a drinking song with his enemies. That's fine for fitting in with the dining schedule of the Paris Jockey Club, but it does tend to interrupt dramatic progress. On the other hand this is Grand Opéra, this is the light and shade and the dynamic you expect, and it does have its own peculiar character. Vistoli has no problem playing to this, including the ballet and even playing it up as a ballet when others would cut it or try to rework it to fit in with an overall darker tone.

The justification for this is that Le Prophète is indeed 5 Act Grand Opéra at its finest, Meyerbeer pulling out all the stops and mustering all forces, with huge rousing choruses, ecstatic harps, religious chanting, some solo organ playing and blistering arias. There's confirmation here in Toulouse that aside from gravitas, what Meyerbeer and Grand Opera need above all else is specialist singers who can do it justice. That means someone like John Osborn in the title role, and he handles the demands exceptionally well. Kate Aldrich however gets some of the best arias and situations as Jean's despairing mother Fidès, and she is just amazing here. Sofia Fomina ensures there is no weakness at all in the trio of principals, giving an outstanding performance as the enraptured and devastated Berthe. This is an impressive production and if nothing else, impressive is exactly what you expect from Grand Opéra.

Links: Théâtre du Capitole de Toulouse, Culturebox

Rossini - William Tell (London, 2015)

Giacomo Rossini - Guillaume Tell

Royal Opera House, 2015

Antonio Pappano, Damiano Michieletto, Gerald Finley, John Osborn, Malin Byström, Alexander Vinogradov, Sofia Fomina, Enkelejda Shkosa, Nicolas Courjal, Eric Halfvarson, Michael Colvin, Samuel Dale Johnson, Enea Scala

Opus Arte - Blu-ray

The Royal Opera House production of William Tell caused a bit of an uproar over some explicit content that some thought had no place in Rossini's opera, specifically a scene depicting the rape of a young village woman by Gesler's soldiers. As is often the case, it appears that one scene has come in for undue attention, taken out of context of the production as a whole. While it is uncomfortably long it's meant to make the audience feel uncomfortable, and if so Damiano Michieletto succeeds in getting across the reality of military oppression and war crimes, which is surely what the legend of William Tell and Rossini's opera is all about. Or is it?

Well, there's an argument to be made on both sides. For a start, Michieletto is not recounting the legend of William Tell and the Swiss rebellion against the oppressive Austrian Habsburg regime in the 14th century, but rather updates it to a more modern setting that looks more like it takes place in one of the Balkan states, the Ukraine or Crimea. It's not just that the director wants to de-romanticise the William Tell legend, since it's apparent to anyone who listens closely to the score that Rossini by no means romanticises the subject of military oppression and genocide. All Michieletto is doing is bringing the underlying reality of that to the stage rather than hide it behind costume drama theatrics.

There's a case to be made however that Rossini's music - in that controversial scene certainly - doesn't depict that kind of brutal realism. And even if it has been toned down a little for this video recording, do we really want to see it acted out in this way on the stage? We wouldn't watch it if it was on the news and surely acting out a rape scene on the stage and choreographing it to Rossini's music risks cheapening the horror of the reality. Well, that's why we have directors to make decisions about how far to go in the visual staging of an opera and Damiano Michieletto takes sensitivities on both sides into account in the Royal Opera House production.

Rossini's music might indeed suggest more of mythological hero of the kind that Jemmy reads about in his comic books, while playing with his toy soldiers, as we see during the famous four-part overture that Rossini devises for the opera - an overture that is unlike any of his previous dashed-out-in-minutes-just-before-the-opening-night overtures for his earlier operas. The overture captures the sense of human suffering and endurance, buoyed by a sense of unquenchable spirit for heroic resistance, and finally acceptance of the human reality and the cost that must be paid for it. It's all there in Rossini's overture, it's expanded on (considerably) over the long opera, and all that is there in Michieletto's production as well.

The romantic image of the 14th century folk legend and what he stands for is there in Jemmy's imagination; a figure who steps off the comic book page in this production and gives the strength and inspiration of the ideal to those living with the reality. The Robin Hood-like figure tries to rouse the people of the little village of Bürglen with his arrow, but the despairing villagers are clearly too terrified having suffered at the hands of the brutal Austrian governor of the region, Gesler. William Tell, all too aware of the bitter reality that they have to live with on a daily basis, is himself is disgusted at his son's nonsense, and is reluctant to take up the quiver presented to him by the ghostly figure of legend.

But take it up he does. He first attempts passive resistance (refusing to bow before Gesler's hat) and appeasement (shooting the apple from his son's head), before realising that other more direct and violent means are necessary. It's not acceptable to just heroically storm in there and Rossini's opera, based on Friedrich Schiller's play, incorporates a variety of real human responses, not just through Tell and his family, but also the suffering endured by Arnold Melchtal through the murder of his father, and the compromised position he is in with regards to his post in the Austrian army and his relationship with Mathilde. Family, above all is what is important, and it's complicated. There's also a sense of the community as a family and it is in the realisation of the greater good being served for the sake of this family that the path to action becomes clearer.

Michieletto's production takes all of this into account, placing great emphasis on the family connections and the depth of feeling that Rossini's score gives them in the opera. He contrasts this - in sharp lighting with long shadows - with the devastation that had been done, the landscape a wasteland with uprooted trees featuring prominently. Nature has been defiled. At the same time, it's important that the turning point that is reached is one that justifies Tell's actions. The horror of Tell having to shoot an apple off the head of his own son is vividly depicted in the opera, but the folk legend is unlikely to have the same impact for a modern audience used to seeing worse horrors on the TV every night, and if Michieletto deems it necessary to elaborate on a scene that is discreetly alluded to in the libretto in order to make the work function dramatically, well, that's his job.

Obviously not everyone will agree with the means employed, but regardless of the merits of the production designs and the concept employed, the musical and singing performances make a convincing case for the brilliance of Rossini's masterpiece. The Royal Opera House orchestra under Antonio Pappano put in an outstanding performance, forceful, lyrical and dynamic, never over-playing or over-emphasising Rossini score into grand opera mannerisms, but remaining sensitive to the pace and varied moods of the piece. It's often dazzling, particularly with the uncompressed high quality audio mixing on the Blu-ray disc.

The casting too is of the highest order for what is undoubtedly an extremely challenging and a long work to sing for all its principals. I'm not sure why I never get terribly excited about Gerald Finley in a leading role, but perhaps it's because there are just never any airs or showiness attached to his performances. That doesn't mean that he is ever merely filling a role functionally; his William Tell here is faultlessly controlled and expressive in singing, his acting performance completely within character. John Osborn is one of the most underrated Rossini tenors out there, and one of the few who can really do justice to a role as challenging as Arnold. He's quite brilliant here. I've been hard on Malin Byström in the past, but she amply demonstrates how good she can be here and is simply extraordinary as Mathilde. Keeping the emphasis essentially on the family theme, Sofia Fomina presents a lively, spirited Jemmy and Enkelejda Shkosa a touching Hedwige. Nicolas Courjal is a force to be reckoned with, as you would expect Gesler to be. The chorus also play their important role in the opera exceptionally well.

Links: Royal Opera House