Showing posts with label Élodie Méchain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Élodie Méchain. Show all posts

Saturday, 12 March 2016

Fauré - Pénélope (Strasbourg, 2015 - Webcast)

Gabriel Fauré - Pénélope

Opéra National du Rhin, Strasbourg - 2015

Patrick Davin, Olivier Py, Anna Caterina Antonacci, Marc Laho, Élodie Méchain, Sarah Laulan, Kristina Bitenc, Rocío Pérez, Francesca Sorteni, Lamia Beuque, Jean-Philippe Lafont, Edwin Crossley-Mercer, Martial Defontaine, Mark Van Arsdale, Arnaud Richard, Camille Tresmontant

ARTE Concert - October 2015

Rarely performed, Fauré's 1913 opera Pénélope has the reputation of being one of those old-fashioned works that no longer has a place on the modern stage. The start of the twentieth century has proved something of a wilderness for lost operas, with many of those works of post-Romanticism and verismo attempting to prolong the opera tradition never really taking hold. The horrors of the Great War would soon make much of the opera compositions of this period irrelevant when set against a changing and increasingly dissonant musical landscape. A few works are only now beginning to regain a foothold, and although Fauré's Pénélope is perhaps not yet one of them, it is certainly an opera that has been unjustly neglected if this fine new production at the Opéra National du Rhin is anything to go by.

One of the main criticisms levelled against Pénélope to account for its obscurity is that the libretto is rather wordy and not terribly dramatic. The story of the return of Ulysses 'in patria' may be Classical in origin, but as Monteverdi shows and as is evident in the rarity of Gluck's Telemaco, the story is by no means inherently lacking in dramatic conflict or emotional resonance that can be heightened for an opera. It is true that René Fauchois' libretto for Fauré does have a lot of recitative and not a great deal of dramatic action for at least the first third of the work. Much of this first Act consists of little more than Penelope's suitors pressing their case for her hand in the absence of her husband Ulysses who hasn't returned from the Trojan war. Without really involving the principals, the suitors presenting their case at length to Penelope's handmaidens, it's a slow start that doesn't really engage the audience.

There's not a great deal that director Olivier Py can do with this, but he makes an effort to make it work on the stage by at least introducing Ulysses into the drama during the overture. Py recognises that Ulysses is the key to unlocking the emotional heart of the work (which is Penelope), and shows the returned warrior early enough for you to recognise what is at stake and what his imminent return will mean for both of them. Py actually does a lot more than this, but he does so without introducing any extraneous elements or imposing any obvious conceptual twist on the work. It's actually a surprisingly faithful adaptation.


What's is impressive about Py's direction here is the faith he has in the work itself. He clearly doesn't feel that it needs to be reworked and reinterpreted. He doesn't attempt to bring any great drama out of the opera for the sake of stage presentation either, but trusts in the quality of the music itself to makes its presence felt. And he's right to do so. Musically Pénélope is not a forcefully driven piece, but rather more like a Debussy mood piece; wistful and floating, the music constantly shifts as if taking the part of the confused Penelope herself, building itself up like the lace tapestry she is sewing before undoing all the work and starting again.

Yet it can also be forceful and insistent, which corresponds with the attitude and behaviour of the suitors, and there's an edge of desperation too in Penelope's holding on to the belief that Ulysses will return. There's also undoubtedly an erotic charge behind these emotions on the sides of both parties, along with all those suggestions of delayed gratification in the completion of the tapestry, but it's hard to really say you get a sense of that from Fauré's music itself. The music does have a sensuous quality, but it also has a slightly sinister and unsettling edge that is brought out and highlighted here by Py showing the suitors pawing over Penelope's handmaidens and scarcely able to keep their hands off the Queen either.

Mood is definitely the strong point of Py's production with its typically darkened stage and black wooden constructions by Py's regular set designer, Pierre-André Weitz. The rotating construction gives the impression of constant movement that reduces the otherwise static 'talkie' nature of the work, and according to Py there's an attempt to relate Pénélope to the time it was written and to the political inclinations of the composer, but this is by no means evident without reading the production notes. The set is more abstract than naturalistic (a bed in an open room on a tower instead of a view from a hill and a curved steel bar taking the place of Ulysses' bow, for example), but there are a few little cut-out tableaux sets at the start of Act II done in the style of the director's Dialogues des Carmélites that open the stage up a little. Ulysses' voyage to Crete is recreated in this way and the reminiscence of his romance with Penelope is acted out by youthful doubles.


For all the criticisms of the libretto then, Pénélope is by no means unworkable as a staged opera production. Other than the slowness of the first act and rather too much time given over to filling out the roles of the suitors and other secondary characters, the libretto is actually quietly suggestive and poetic in how it explores the situation and builds tensions and mood around it. Although very different musically, it's hard not also to think of Hofmannsthal's libretto for Strauss' Elektra, in how it sustains a similar dark foreboding, in how it plays out the arrival and recognition scenes, and in how it all serves to move towards the huge release of the climax of the work. Again Pénélope is quite different in how that conclusion plays out musically, but Py's staging of the arrival of Zeus on the stage captures just how impressive that ending is, and how magnificently it has been structured and arranged to get to that point.

The influence of Wagner is probably more in this approach to the monologue delivery and the dramatic structure rather than in any overt musical referencing. In the singing at least, Pénélope requires singers of Wagnernian stamina, if not necessarily Wagnerian singers. The title role was actually written for Lucienne Bréval, a soprano noted for the roles of Brünnhilde and Kundry, but Anna Caterina Antonacci assumes the role superbly and with great presence. It's another triumph for Antonacci. Belgian tenor Marc Laho has a Heldentenor-like quality as well as the lyricism required here for Ulysses; his delivery clear, resonant and expressive. Conducted by Patrick Davin, the wonderful musicality and lyricism of the work are made apparent, as well as its hitherto unsuspected dramatic qualities, contributing to make this new production of Fauré's rare work something of a revelation.


Links: ARTE ConcertL'Opéra National du Rhin

Thursday, 17 October 2013

Berlioz - Béatrice et Bénédict

Hector Berlioz - Béatrice et Bénédict

L'Opéra Comique, Paris, 2010

Emmanuel Krivine, Dan Jemmett, Christine Rice, Allan Clayton, Ailish Tynan, Élodie Méchain, Edwin Crossley-Mercer, Jérôme Varnier, Michel Trempont, Giovanni Calò, David Lefort, Bob Goody

France TV, Culturebox - Internet streaming

The Opéra Comique's 2010 production of Béatrice et Bénédict takes a somewhat distanced theatrical approach to Berlioz's version of Shakespeare's comedy 'Much Ado About Nothing', setting it as a puppet show come to life. The distancing technique is a method that Shakespeare would himself use on occasions through an Induction opening that indicates that the work in question is a play-within-a-play (in 'The Taming of the Shrew' for example), using it as a means perhaps to have a little more freedom that takes it away from naturalistic drama. There isn't such a device used in 'Much Ado About Nothing', even though some of the narrative twists and comic drama do require some suspension of disbelief, so the puppet show does at least provide a certain justification for this.

Since Berlioz's opera jettisons much of the rather more wild twists of Shakespeare's play in favour of the romantic comedy between Beatrice and Benedick (and it must be said, much of the comedy goes too), the device has other uses and benefits here. On a simple formal level, the production looks good with a strong visual hook and two huge puppet heads looming over the stage. Since puppet productions have a fairly specific period character, this allows the work to be put on in a more traditional setting. You could also consider that the two principal characters of the opera are indeed treated somewhat like puppets by the manoeuvring of their friends in their efforts to get this unlikely couple to somewhat improbably put their hatred for each other aside and recognise that they are actually in love with each other.


The best thing about the Opéra Comique's production however is the introduction of a "puppet master" who recites lines from the original play in English and thereby brings a little bit of the magical poetry of Shakespeare back into a drama that loses much of its character in French translation and more in its adaptation to opera. This also serves to bring some human feeling back into the actual production, since unfortunately, as you might expect, having the characters walk around and make jerky movements as if they are on strings, does tend to restrict the dramatic action and leave it rather static and... well, wooden. Dan Jemmet also however finds some good ways to use the added character of choir master Somarone to bring back some of the Shakespearean humour that is lacking in Berlioz's adaptation, and takes the humour out to the audience in a way that is typical of the Opéra Comique, as well as fully in the spirit of the work.

The spirit of the work is however undoubtedly more that of Berlioz than Shakespeare. The composer makes great use of the chorus, he even manages to get a ballet in there at the start to celebrate Don Pedro's victory, the drama fairly zipping along with some fine melodies and, in the case of Beatrice and Ursula's duet 'Nuit paisable et sereine', at least one truly great piece. As an opera, Béatrice et Bénédict lacks the tragicomic elements of Hero's betrayal and her 'death' of heartbreak at the accusations of her fiancé Claudio, and the all-out comic hilarity of Dogberry and his constables' investigation is missed, but Berlioz has a good feel for the sensibilities of the romantic-comedy storyline and rightly focuses on that alone. Those characteristics are brought out marvellously here in a fine account of the work as conducted by Emmanuel Krivine.


The singing is also excellent throughout. It's surprising in a work that has quite a few passages of spoken French dialogue that three of the four principal roles are assigned to native English-speaking performers. Perhaps the intention was to give more value to the English character of the Shakespeare work (even though it is actually set in Messina) than to the French, but generally the diction in the spoken sections was reasonably good. In terms of singing, it could hardly be faulted. Both Christine Rice and Allan Clayton as Béatrice and Bénédict are simply perfect in this register, Rice in particular richly toned and lyrical, but both brought the necessary character to the work. Ailish Tynan's Héro and Élodie Méchain's Ursule were also fine, although they both seemed to find the puppet concept somewhat restricting.