Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Idomeneo
Teatro Real, Madrid - 2019
Ivor Bolton, Robert Carsen, Eric Cutler, David Portillo, Anett Fritsch, Eleonora Buratto, Benjamin Hulett, Oliver Johnston, Alexander Tsymbalyuk
Opus Arte - Blu-ray
With every new production, Idomeneo is proving to be one of the most exciting of Mozart's operas, and that's even when measured up against a catalogue of mature works where each and every one is a masterpiece. It's not just the number of productions that are elevating it comfortably into the canon of regularly performed Mozart operas - even if you don't rate it as great Mozart, this early work of youth is still head and shoulders above most opera of its century - but each production seems to find new depths in the work. Not only has Mozart created marvellously drawn, living, breathing people out of these Metastasian opera seria characters, but through them you can already see the enlightened ideas and themes that are there in his mature works. What is also amazing is how a work of Greek antiquity with a late 18th century score can still be so fresh and modern, its themes remaining relevant to the present day.
Robert Carsen certainly emphasises the contemporary relevance of the work right from the outset in the Teatro Real production by hitting you with an image that looks like it is straight off a TV news broadcast; a group of refugees clinging desperately to a wire fence that cages them in. Having suffered in a terrible war and displaced from their homeland, Ilia and the Trojan refugees wonder what harsher fate have the gods in store for them. If it's not exactly a new or original perspective on Idomeneo it's only because there's nothing new in such images repeated throughout history, but they still remain relevant and powerful, a scene repeated with depressing regularity.
Imagine a world where human love and compassion could inspire a leader to assist those less fortunate? Well, Mozart could imagine that the good in mankind would always win out over greed, jealousy and lust, where love triumphs and the dissolute are punished, where goodness its own reward. It's a theme that you can see consistently throughout his opera work right through to La Clemenza di Tito. It's one thing to imagine and believe in that but it's quite another greater thing to make it seem like a genuine possibility in the composition of music that expresses such emotions and intentions.
Robert Carsen knows that it's all there in Mozart's music, and with good singers to interpret it and a conductor sensitive to the rhythm, pace and dynamic of the score, Idomeneo speaks for itself. The Madrid production fares well on all those fronts, but it would be over-simplifying to say that Carsen does no more than throw out a few powerful iconic and emotive images. As with some of his more recent productions (Glanert's Oceane also in 2019) the director uses the full dimensions of the stage with projections of nature, sea and sky, raging seas and stormy skies to create a sense of wide open space in which an opera can truly breathe.
There are some strikingly realistic, powerful images used here. The horrors wreaked on Crete by Neptune's sea monster couldn't be any more devastating than the real life images of war torn Syrian towns used here, and it gives the work added authenticity and a sense of classic timelessness. The very Parsifal-like way the production is concluded is also successful, touching on the deeper truths to be found in mythology, how tyranny can be overthrown, how compassion and innocence will save the world and rebuild it anew.
There's not really enough however to carry the narrative though in an engaging way. There are a few spectacular projection effects that capture a sense of inner conflict and turmoil, but the uniformity of the military uniforms works against a stronger sense of character definition, and by making the people an army it goes against the idea of it being ordinary people suffering at the hands of higher powers. There's too much Duty and not enough Humanity. This is recognised in the conclusion to an extent when, the war ended, the uniforms are shed and the people are able to live as humans once again.
Although the singing is excellent there's also little in the way of character interpretation to give it more context and depth. Sure, it doesn't go for black and white the way other productions might in terms of painting Elettra and Idomeneo as misguided villains and Ilia and Idamante as the great young hope for the future, but there's room for finding nuance and highlighting the differences within those worldviews. Carsen's production looks great and it makes an important contemporary commentary but a work of opera seria like Idomeneo needs a little more focus on making the narrative drive more engaging. Even Mozart's opera seria.
There are moments when it comes together, particularly in Act III. Despite the staging of Idamante and Ilia social distancing amidst a beach full of life jackets, the love declarations of the 'Spiegarti non poss'io' duet between Anett Fritsch and Benjamin Hurlett is sung beautifully and accompanied by delicate playing from the pit. The subsequent quartet with Eric Cutler and Eleonora Buratto is also superb, underling that the conflict is not an ideological one between tradition and progress, between being tied to a sense of duty and the freedom to make individual choices, but just four people and two sides that find themselves in a difficult and irreconcilable position. Buratto's final aria as Elettra is also marvellous. Ivor Bolton's handling of the very different dramatic and emotional tones is just superb.
What is also evident right from the overture is that Ivor Bolton is returning the work back to its historically informed period instrumentation, using harpsichord and slightly reduced orchestration that gives it a wholly different feel from the more classical sounding Idomeneo of Mozart. There is consequently a lighter spacious sound with extra delicacy and punch as it hits all the points in the dynamic range. Hearing Mozart this way is always a revelation and the score is lively and percussive in drive but opening up to reveal more detail and beauty in the scoring and playing of individual instruments. Bolton himself plays the recitative accompaniment.
The quality of the production comes across well on the Blu-ray release from Opus Arte, presenting a clear image with bold contrasts that helps bring out the impact of the staging. The PCM Stereo and DTS HD-Master Audio 5.1 mixes emphasise the dynamic of the historically informed instrumentation. The surround mix in particular gives a wonderfully spacious soundstage for the orchestration, the harpsichord pinging away throughout. The only extra on the BD is a Cast Gallery but the booklet insert has a tracklist, a synopsis and a brief overview of Robert Carsen's take on the opera. Subtitles are in English, French, German, Japanese and Korean.
Links: Teatro Real
Giacomo Puccini - Tosca
OsterFestspiele, Baden-Baden - 2017
Simon Rattle, Philipp Himmelmann, Kristine Opolais, Marcelo Álvarez, Marco Vratogna, Peter Rose, Alexander Tsymbalyuk, Peter Tantsits, Douglas Williams, Walter Fink
ARTE Concert - 17th April 2017
It's too easy to write Tosca off as either a tawdry thriller or as a pure romantic melodrama. Those aspects are central to Puccini's verismo adaptation of Sardou's drama, but that doesn't necessarily mean that the characters have to be one-dimensional. There can be a little more nuance to how each of the three principal protagonists meet their fate in three of the most dramatic deaths in all opera, and a lot more to Puccini's dramatic music than heavy-handed underscoring. The Baden-Baden 2017 Easter Festival production of Tosca attempts to draw this out in Philipp Himmelmann's updating, while Simon Rattle and the Berlin Philharmonic make a strong case for the musical qualities of the work.
The conventional view of Tosca is a fairly black and white one of good guys and bad guys. On one side we have Scarpia as evil personified, twisted by the power that gives him freedom to indulge his lusts and baser instincts. On the other side we have the painter Cavaradossi as a brave rebel who stands up to arrest and torture by refusing to betray Angelotti, a colleague who has escaped from prison and hidden in the chapel where the painter is finishing a portrait of the Madonna (a very saintly enterprise). It's Tosca who takes Scarpia on directly, turning his lusts against him to buy time and escape.
All the main characters are however eventually doomed in their enterprises and it's not just cruel twists of fate; they can be seen in no small part to be the agents of their own destruction. For Tosca, it is jealousy that leads Scarpia's men to Cavaradossi's house. For Cavaradossi, it's a foolhardy embarking on revolutionary activism from what seems to be a matter of honour than for any real political conviction. Scarpia; well, his flaws are clear enough but his actions are twisted into some kind of delusional invulnerability conferred upon him by his religious devotion. In some ways, all of then can be seen to regard their fame and celebrity rendering them immune from any real harm.
As an opera, Tosca certainly merits more however than just playing to the stereotypes of sneering villainy and noble self-sacrifice. Those elements are an enjoyable element that are a necessary part of the character of the work, but there are other considerations that can provide a rather more thoughtful drama. The Baden-Baden production chooses to dispense with the Napoleonic flavour of the work for a more modern perspective, but it doesn't want to boil the baby in the reheated bathwater, to somewhat mangle a metaphor and likewise risk missing its intent.
Act I of the Baden-Baden Tosca takes place in a bright and airy cathedral, not at all like the dark ornate enclosures we are accustomed to seeing. There's space here for Cavaradossi to set up his computer and project the image he is working on onto a larger canvas. Tosca is dressed in a much more stylish bright red trouser suit and Scarpia, wearing a suit with his blond hair tied back in a ponytail, arrives with the finger-snapping efficiency of a business executive or politician with his underlings. Act II also presents a refreshingly modern outlook that gets rid of all the heavy drapes and candlesticks of a Napoleonic chamber.
There's no point in modernising Tosca however unless you can find a way to capture the same sense of menace and oppression that is in the original setting and Philipp Himmelmann finds a modern equivalence in the surveillance society of an authoritarian power. Scarpia's office is a wall of screens that are used to monitor and control the behaviour of its citizens. There is even a camera used to record his interrogations and, in an extra-creepy way, his seductions of women like Tosca that he can use to exert further influence and control over them. It's an effective enough modern context for how power is used and abused that doesn't in any way lessen the impact of the original.
Whether the singing meets similar expectations that an audience demand is another question, but again comparisons have little relevance. Everyone has their own favourite performances of past Toscas, and the cast here are unlikely to challenge any historic greats, but then opera is not a singing competition. That said, the performances are all good, and certainly effective in bringing a degree of characterisation and personality to the roles, as well as making sure that it serves to bring about the necessary impact.
Marcelo Álvarez gives the most assured performance as Cavaradossi. There's never been much doubt about his ability to sing this role before, even if he is inclined towards standing and delivering old-fashioned operatic arm-spreading gestures out to the audience. Here he is better directed and proves to be a much more competent actor: and it makes all the difference. It's a performance of intense feeling that has all the drama heroics you might like, while also singing the role exceptionally well.
Kristine Opolais may not have the commanding presence of some of the more notable Toscas in the history of opera, but by the same token she doesn't rely on the mannerisms of old. If she initially shows a few areas of weakness, they are scarcely worth drawing attention to and she gives a fine performance that grows in confidence as the drama progresses and her own character grows in response to the situations. There is no question that she hits every one of those key moments effectively and nails her 'Vissi d'arte'. Opolais also establishes an intense struggle of wills against Marco Vratogna's Scarpia in the second Act, where again the direction helps bring out Scarpia's calculating menace.
As is often the case now, Act III plays out with Cavaradossi being under no illusions about his fate, taking a more realistic view in spite of Tosca's protestations that she has their rescue all figured out. The use of lethal injections to the head instead of a firing squad deprives the audience of the traditional dramatic conclusion and from Tosca's famous leap from Castel Sant' Angelo, which is always a risky thing to do. Tosca's final cries however never fail to hit their mark, and with Simon Rattle harnessing the full power of the Berlin Philharmonic, the vital impact isn't lessened in the slightest. It all goes to show that you may get tired very easily of all the familiar imagery and costume drama, but Puccini's Tosca is bigger than that and the efficacy of its drama endures.
Links: Baden-Baden, ARTE Concert
Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Iolanta/The Nutcracker
L'Opéra National de Paris, 2016
Alain Altinoglu, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Alexander Tsymbalyuk, Sonya Yoncheva, Arnold Rutkowski, Andrei Jilihovschi, Vito Priante, Roman Shulakov, Gennady Bezzubenkov, Elena Zaremba, Anna Patalong, Paola Gardina
Culturebox - March 2016
Given their shared history, it's surprising that opera and ballet tend to remain within their respective disciplines and rarely cross-over. There are of course exceptions and one of them is the pairing of Tchaikovsky's short opera Iolanta with the composer's ballet The Nutcracker at its Mariinsky premiere in 1892. It's also notable that combining opera and ballet in the same programme is traditionally something that has been done in French opera from Lully, Rameau and Gluck right through to the extravagant excesses of the Grand Opéra.
So while it is more common nowadays to see Iolanta paired with another short opera by a different composer, it's undoubtedly instructive to see the work paired in the way it was originally intended, and it's appropriate that it should be the Paris Opera who stage the two works in the same programme. Considering the separate paths that both works and disciplines have taken in the meantime however it would still take some radical reworking for it to succeed. Fortunately the Paris Opera have entered a new period of productive experimentation again and, fortunately in this case, they have engaged Dmitri Tcherniakov to come up with a daring approach to the programming that confounds any expectations.
Surprisingly however, at least initially, it looks like Tcherniakov might be going down the same relatively safe route as his La Traviata for La Scala in 2013 (although you can't be safe enough for La Scala). His Iolanta is set in the same sort of drawing room, the decor, lighting and costumes all suggesting period in a way that conforms with the attitudes expressed in the drama, with there being little evidence of his usual modern subversion of the works. The placement of a Christmas tree in the drawing room suggests that Iolanta will blend into The Nutcracker, and indeed it does, but not at all in the way you might expect, the tree even being abandoned before the ballet starts, and the Christmas drawing room scene following it soon after.
The Nutcracker proves to be not so much a continuation of the story of Iolanta as much as an extension of its themes, assuming that you see its story of a young girl who has is cured from blindness as a metaphor for a young woman coming of age. That's certainly how the Metropolitan Opera played the work when it paired Iolanta with Bartók's Duke Bluebeard's Castle, a double-bill that put the emphasis on sexual awakening and liberation. Although successfully staged, it was still a fairly radical and dark exploration of the works' themes and not the most obvious direction you would see Iolanta moving towards. Seen in the context of its pairing with The Nutcracker, the Paris production is a more simple matter of coming of age and self-awareness, but there's nothing at all straightforward in the way Tcherniakov's production sets about it.
If Iolanta was played fairly straight, with perhaps only an additional emotional intensity brought out in the uniformly strong singing and acting performances - with a notably sweeping performance from Sonya Yoncheva - the already notorious opera director really lets loose in his settings for the ballet sequences of The Nutcracker. It starts out fairly sedately with the cast of Iolanta remaining on the stage, Clara here appearing to be the little sister of Iolanta rather than a straightforward double or mirror role. If the dancing is not the traditional ballet steps, it is initially at least smooth and fluid, the party games and march music involving a kind of musical chairs game and playing with a nutcracker piñata.
That's about as close as this version of the ballet gets to any of its traditional reference points. The movements, choreographed in the first part by Sidi Larbi Cherkaoui, become more frantic and modern with jerking semaphored movements and rhythms as Clara dances with Fritz. Without the familiar ETA Hoffmann story points, it's hard to establish exactly what is going on when a gunshot is fired (by Drosselmeyer?) and the drawing room seems to explode in a ball of fire, leaving Iolana not involved in a war between gingerbread soldiers and grey mice, but in a desolate forest of swirling ashes and snow. Whirling changes of perspective add to the sense of dislocation through projections of the dark woods that are populated by dark shadowy figures with torches.
Act II of the Nutcracker takes us further into unfamiliar territory and strange imagery, with additional dance sequences by two other choreographers, Edouard Lock and Arthur Pita. The shadow of a giant bird circles, an enormous CGI hippo wanders through the woods, but the notion of sexual awakening is suggested by several Claras all dancing with fine young men, with the principal Clara writhing suggestively on the forest floor, abandoning herself to her inner nature. One would think that the traditional sweets and gifts from around the world would suit the purposes of this enlarging of Clara's (and by extension Iolanta's) world, but instead the scene is colourfully filled by huge toys which take us through to the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. The final pas-de-deux is also extraordinary, beautifully choreographed as a succession of Claras dance with the Prince through to old age.
It might not adhere to the original Nutcracker and the connection with Iolanta is tenuous, but it's a beautiful and poignant interpretation that works fully with Tchaikovsky's musical expression. More than just a dream, Clara's experience is a life-long journey that is even more fantastical than the original conception. That's what Tcherniakov does and it doesn't always please opera fans, so I'm sure it will also no doubt horrify some ballet fans more used to the traditional 'Casse-Noisette' that is a perennial favourite at the Paris Opera. It's all the more impressive then that the overall reception to this daring extravaganza has been very positive. It's another promising sign of the new director Stéphane Lissner successfully putting a progressive stamp on the Paris Opera.
Links: Culturebox, L'Opéra National de Paris
Modest Mussorgsky - Boris Godunov
Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich, 2013
Kent Nagano, Calixto Bieito, Alexander Tsymbalyuk, Yulia Sokolik, Eri Nakamura, Heike Grötzinger, Gerhard Siegel, Markus Eiche, Anatoli Kotscherga, Sergey Skorokhodov, Vladimir Matorin, Ulrich Reß, Okka von der Damerau, Kevin Conners, Goran Jurić, Dean Power, Tareq Nazmi, Christian Rieger
ARTE Internet Streaming, March 2013
A modern updating of a historical subject is always going to be controversial, particularly when it's a production by Calixto Bieito. In the case of a work like Boris Godunov however, you have to ask whether the purpose of Mussorgsky's opera is to provide a character portrait of a 16th century ruler of Russia or whether the opera is more concerned with more universal questions on the nature of power, leadership and the cost that has to be paid for it. Even performed in a traditional historical context it would be hard not to feel the full force of those themes expressed in Mussorgsky's magnificent score, so what advantage would there be in attempting to make a parallel between the past and the present? Surprisingly, the purpose of Bieito's production would seem to be not to use Boris Godunov to make a comment about the present day as much as use familiar images to help us better relate to the past.
One of the qualities of art, and particularly opera in this context, is that it can indeed illuminate and provide new living insight on a figure who existed nearly 500 years ago by simply looking at human nature itself today, since that hasn't changed greatly in all that time. Placing Boris Godunov in a historical context however can place a distance between the subject and a modern audience - although, as I said, Mussorgsky's music makes it fully relatable - but a modern setting can make those situation more real and immediate without betraying the essential sentiments and the spirit of the work. Calixto Bieito's staging has a considerable part to play in the success of the Bayerische Staatsoper's new production, but it must operate in accordance with the music, and Kent Nagano's musical direction ensures that this is a thoughtful and powerful account of a great work.
The actions and the will of the people play just as important a part in history as its more famous leaders and Mussorgsky's gives them equal voice in Boris Godunov. Calixto Bieito finds a modern-day equivalent of the voice of the people and their relationship with their leaders here in what looks to be an anti-globalisation protest at a G8 summit, or perhaps even an anti-austerity protest. The people, herded in by police in riot-gear, are looking for someone to lead them out of crisis. They don't carry icons of the saints here, but instead wave placards in the air showing images of Sarkozy, Putin, Cameron, Holland and other world leaders. Only one lone protester - a punk in a Sex Pistols T-shirt advocating anarchy - rejects all of them and is beaten to the ground by the police. Is this a fair representation of the intent of the opening scene of Boris Godunov? It certainly captures the nature of the situation without tying it directly and imperfectly to any specific modern political context. It also sets the tone well for the underlying violence that isn't always entirely explicit in the work, but which is undoubtedly an important part of the power dynamic.
There are inevitably a few curious touches that Bieito adds to highlight this characteristic, but all of them feel entirely appropriate to the work. Boris Godunov tries to be a good ruler to the people, but he feels the pressure of responsibility, hears the murmurings of discontent and fears the uprising of a new Pretender. His conscience - like anyone who has to dirty their hands to get into a position of power and influence - isn't entirely clear either, and he has the blood of the young Tsar on his hands, tormenting him in nightmares. Bieito's version, again highlighting the power and responsibility of the common people in their choice or acceptance of leaders, shows them exercising that power by putting weapons (guns) into their hands, making this bloody period of history even more realistically violent. The Pretender too executes Boris' children at the end of the opera, which fits in with the theme of the cycles of history and violence and gives it greater force.
All of this must be borne out in the music of course, and the Bayerische Staatsoper production in Munich took an equally interesting approach to the complicated history of the work and its various revisions. This was a stripped back production that used Mussorgsky's 1869 original version as its basis, but further removed any other diversions - the Fountain scene and the Polonaise (basically the whole of Act III) - that weren't directly related to expression of the work's fundamental themes. This enabled the entire opera to be performed as a single two-and-a-quarter hour performance without any breaks. There were considerable benefits to be gained from this approach. On the one hand, we had all the force of Mussorgsky's scoring with its conversational language rhythms and unique expression, but with a greater fluidity that brought unity to each of the separate scenes. With Kent Nagano conducting with complete sensitivity for those rhythms, we didn't lose any of the beauty of the orchestration that is found in Rimsky-Korsakov's revisions either. As a result, the work maintained its epic immensity, force and beauty.
So too does the singing here, particularly Alexander Tsymbalyuk as Boris and Anatoli Kotscherga as Pimen. Both evidently are vital roles that carry the action and the spiritual elements of the work, and much of that is brought out through the grave, deep tone of the singing itself. Not only were the casting and performances superb in this respect for those roles, but the same consideration was given to all the casting elsewhere. There was scarcely a weak element anywhere here, all of the cast and chorus coming together - alongside a considered production and musical performance - to give full force to this remarkable work. The set designs also played an important part in keeping up this momentum, fluidly moving from one scene to the next, providing a meaningful dark and minimal setting that served the situations without being over-literal or too incongruously modern either.
This performance of Boris Godunov was broadcast on ARTE Live Web and is currently still available for viewing via internet streaming. Depending on whether you use the .fr or .de sites, subtitles are either in French or German. The Bayerische Staatsoper will broadcast another live performance of this production via their own Live Streaming service during their summer Opera Festival season on the 26th July. The next live streaming event from Munich is Verdi's Macbeth on 11th May, directed by Martin Kušej and conducted by Massimo Zanetti.
