Henry Purcell - Dido and Aeneas (Aix, 2018)
Festival d'Aix en Provence, 2018
Václav
Luks, Vincent Huguet, Anaïk Morel, Rokia Traoré, Tobias Greenhalgh,
Sophia Burgos, Lucile Richardot, Rachel Redmond, Fleur Barron,
Majdouline Zerari, Peter Kirk
ARTE Concert - 12 July 2018
The
theme of the 70th Aix-en-Provence Festival is based around the power of
myths, and each of the operas in the programme in their own way examine
deeper truths that would have application for the times they were
written, but such is the nature of great art that those words and
sentiments can still have contemporary relevance and application. Even
Purcell's 1688 treatment of Virgil's story of Dido and Aeneas, two
rulers of great kingdoms, is believed to have points to make about the
English monarchy and the political situation of its time. As far as the
present day is concerned, that historical context is unlikely to
provide any meaningful commentary, but there is very much something we
can relate to in how it also deals with the controversial subject of
refugees.
The original prologue for Dido and Aeneas was
lost over the centuries since it was first performed, but it's not
uncommon for the one-hour or so of the surviving elements to be filled
out with other pieces by Purcell or some of his near contemporaries.
There aren't many who would go as far as composing a whole new prologue,
and it would be hard to imagine anyone wanting to write in the style of
Purcell, but Vincent Huguet's production for the Aix Festival shows
that it is possible to write something complementary that supports some
of the themes of the work and develops some background, putting it into
a context that makes some reference to contemporary matters.
Rather
than write a musical prologue, the context for the drama of Dido and
Aeneas is developed in a mostly spoken word narration with some
traditional North African music, created for this production by the
French author Maylis de Kerangal. It describes the journey that Dido
herself made, a Princess married to her uncle Acerbas, a rival for her
father Pygmalion, the King. Becoming a kind of political refugee after
her husband is murdered she leaves the Phoenician city of Tyre and
travels to North Africa via Cyprus, but the journey by ship is no
glorious affair. Related by a Cypriot woman (Rokia Traoré) who came
with many others on those ships carried by the winds to North Africa, it
was a particularly difficult journey for the women and prostitutes that
were picked up along the way.
The Prologue sets the
scene then for greater emphasis to be placed on the hardships endured by
refugees and by women, both of which are certainly an underlying
feature of the subject, not least in the 'love them and leave them'
sentiments expressed by the Trojan sailors and by Aeneas, driven by the
Gods to his destiny in Italy. Vincent Huguet, a former assistant to
Patrice Chéreau, shows both these matters contributing to create a sense
of deep unrest in Carthage, more than just in the unresolved romantic
situation between Dido and Aeneas that eventually leads to their all too
brief marriage.
What is new about this treatment and
given greater emphasis in the current political climate is how the
subject of refugees can be used to create political divisions, here
setting the common Carthaginian people against the refugees from the war
in Troy who seem to be enjoying more favour and benefits that their own
people. The witches here become rabble rousers, the Sorceress inciting
one of the crowd to take up a gun in a terrorist attack that ends
up with her being shot dead by the authorities. Whether you think this
has a place in Dido and Aeneas or not, it does tap into the tensions
that must exist, the choral work of the common people having a role just
as important as that of Dido and Aeneas in Purcell's work.
So
that it doesn't appear to be too anachronistic - but at the same time
evokes the current refugee crisis in the Mediterranean - Huguet sets the
production in a more recognisably North African setting, the cast also
featuring a number of singers of African origin. In fact, the South
African soprano Kelebogile Pearl Besong was originally cast in the role
of Dido, but had to withdraw for health reasons. She's replaced by the
French mezzo-soprano Anaïk Morel who doesn't have the ideal clarity of
English diction that the role demands, but brings a deeper regal
presence to the role that works well alongside the baritone of Tobias Greenhalgh's Aeneas, equally regal, but again not quite ideal in
delivery.
There is some impressive singing from the other
members of the cast who bring brightness and spirit to the roles,
particularly Lucile Richardot as the rabble-rousing Sorceress and her
Mercury-impersonating elf. Richardot stood out when I saw her in the
fascinating Bratislava production of Vivaldi's Arsilda, Regina di Ponto a production
that was also conducted by Václav Luks. Aside from the context that
director Huguet brings to the production, it's Purcell's extraordinarily
beautiful music that carries the huge emotional force of the work, and
Luks's directing of the Ensemble Pygmalion finds that deep resonance
within the work. If Dido's Lament, 'Remember me' and the choral
finale don't move you to tears, something has gone wrong somewhere.
There's nothing wrong with this Dido and Aeneas.
Links: Festival d'Aix en Provence, ARTE Concert
Showing posts with label Anaïk Morel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Anaïk Morel. Show all posts
Monday, 27 August 2018
Wednesday, 15 June 2011
Poulenc - Dialogues des Carmélites
Francis Poulenc - Dialogues des Carmélites
Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich 2010
Kent Nagano, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Alain Vernhes, Susan Gritton, Bernard Richter, Sylvie Brunet, Soile Isokoski, Susanne Resmark, Hélène Guilmette, Heike Grötzinger, Anaïk Morel, Kevin Conners
Bel Air Classiques
Clever modern concept stagings of opera are all very well in the right place and with the right kind of opera. Sometimes however, it just seems perverse to take them out of their original context, particularly when the opera applies to a specific historical period or event that is explicitly referred to in the libretto. There seems little value then in “updating” Poulenc’s 1956 opera Dialogues des Carmélites away from its French Revolutionary setting or the historical incident in 1794 where sixteen nuns from a Carmelite convent in Compiègne were executed for resisting the confiscation of the church’s assets and the dissolution of the order.
You just know however that a controversial director like Dmitri Tcherniakov is never going to go down a conventional route, or even find an intermediary space (like the fine 2008 Nikolaus Lehnhoff production in Hamburg), where the actual themes of the opera beyond the historical setting can be examined, themes relating to the question of life in the face of death, fear of death and the nature of martyrdom for a cause. No, Tcherniakov doesn’t follow any expected route, but what clearly is his intention – as it is in all his productions, whether they actually work for an audience or not – is to attempt to cut the distance between the themes that are sometimes obscured by an overly elaborate and literal period setting, and strip back the staging in order to give the music and the singing the necessary environment that will allow provoke a reaction in the viewer towards the subtext. In the right kind of opera, it’s not so much about imposing a concept or an interpretation or being deliberately obscure for the sake of it, as allowing the audience the space to relate to the themes in their own personal way.
Whether that is achieved in this production of Dialogues des Carmélites recorded at the Bayerische Staatsoper in Munich is however debatable, as the staging seems to do its utmost to actually distance itself from the audience and box it into its own little world (the box within a box idea is also used in Tcherniakov’s staging for Verdi’s Macbeth, released by Bel Air alongside this). The period is non-specific but modern (even though the De la Force family still have a servant and chauffeur-driven coach), and Blanche de la Force certainly doesn’t enter any traditional kind of convent where the nuns wear habits. Perhaps reflecting Blanche’s fear of the world outside – and despite the Prioress Madame de Croissy’s insistence that it is not a refuge – the convent does resemble a women’s refuge, with all the sisters wearing heavy woollen cardigans and sensible skirts, all nursing mugs of hot tea.
There is no reason however why the questions that arise in the opera – making sense of life in the face of approaching death, finding order and meaning in it, and examining how each person individually comes to terms with their mortality – can’t be examined outside of the historical context of the French revolution. Poulenc based the opera on a play by Georges Bernanos, which in turn was based on an original 1931 novel by Gertrud von le Fort (’Die Letzte am Schafott‘), which itself used the subject as a means of commenting on German social disorder following the fall of the Weimar Republic – so it’s certainly artistically valid for Tcherniakov to update the work if it’s in the service of throwing a new light on the themes. What is rather more controversial is that the director radically changes the original ending – which is a really powerful conclusion. Tchernaikov’s finale, which practically turns the original on its head, is just as powerful and dramatic in its own right, but whether it “improves” or casts any further light on the actions of Blanche de la Force is debatable. It could just be that it’s the complete disregard of the traditional approach that is what is really shocking about the ending here, and it results in an equal amount of audible booing and cheers at the director’s curtain call.
At the very least however, Tcherniakov’s staging forces the audience to think about the subject again in a different way, and it’s an opera that really does have a lot of deeper subtexts to be drawn out of it. What makes this production even more worthwhile in this respect is the conducting of Kent Nagano. The music in Dialogues des Carmélites can be a little strange and unsettling, even with some hauntingly beautiful melodies that evoke Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélissande, but Nagano seems to bring out those ambiguous qualities of the opera and its similarities to Debussy even more strongly, with a greater sense of warmth and harmony than, for example the Hamburg production. That harmony and warmth is also more evident in the singing – although not in every case – so I wouldn’t necessarily say that one is better than the other, but I certainly find the interpretation here much more intriguing, creating new resonances and opening up the opera in an unexpected way.
Whether the staging works or not in a live context, it certainly doesn’t come across well on DVD or Blu-ray. The majority of the opera takes place (as you can see from the cover) within a boxed room on the stage. This means that crossbeams frequently get in the way, obscuring the view of the singers, which is further hampered by a gauze screen that softens the image, desaturates the colours and causes hazy netting effects. The HD reproduction of this consequently isn’t good, and the encoding doesn’t really help matters, looking rather blurry in movements. Between the net effect and the encoding, this does appear to be a visually substandard release. (Although the cover states it’s a BD25 disc it is however, as you would expect, BD50 – ie. dual-layer). The audio tracks are better, the singing mostly clear, the orchestration warm and enveloping, but also revealing a good amount of colour and detail. It’s no match for the precise crystalline clarity of the DTS HD-MA 7.1 mix on the Hamburg Staatsoper production, and if you would prefer a more faithful version of the opera I would highly recommend that release, but there are enough intriguing elements in the Nagano/Tcherniakov production to make this certainly worth your time.
Bayerische Staatsoper, Munich 2010
Kent Nagano, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Alain Vernhes, Susan Gritton, Bernard Richter, Sylvie Brunet, Soile Isokoski, Susanne Resmark, Hélène Guilmette, Heike Grötzinger, Anaïk Morel, Kevin Conners
Bel Air Classiques
Clever modern concept stagings of opera are all very well in the right place and with the right kind of opera. Sometimes however, it just seems perverse to take them out of their original context, particularly when the opera applies to a specific historical period or event that is explicitly referred to in the libretto. There seems little value then in “updating” Poulenc’s 1956 opera Dialogues des Carmélites away from its French Revolutionary setting or the historical incident in 1794 where sixteen nuns from a Carmelite convent in Compiègne were executed for resisting the confiscation of the church’s assets and the dissolution of the order.
You just know however that a controversial director like Dmitri Tcherniakov is never going to go down a conventional route, or even find an intermediary space (like the fine 2008 Nikolaus Lehnhoff production in Hamburg), where the actual themes of the opera beyond the historical setting can be examined, themes relating to the question of life in the face of death, fear of death and the nature of martyrdom for a cause. No, Tcherniakov doesn’t follow any expected route, but what clearly is his intention – as it is in all his productions, whether they actually work for an audience or not – is to attempt to cut the distance between the themes that are sometimes obscured by an overly elaborate and literal period setting, and strip back the staging in order to give the music and the singing the necessary environment that will allow provoke a reaction in the viewer towards the subtext. In the right kind of opera, it’s not so much about imposing a concept or an interpretation or being deliberately obscure for the sake of it, as allowing the audience the space to relate to the themes in their own personal way.
Whether that is achieved in this production of Dialogues des Carmélites recorded at the Bayerische Staatsoper in Munich is however debatable, as the staging seems to do its utmost to actually distance itself from the audience and box it into its own little world (the box within a box idea is also used in Tcherniakov’s staging for Verdi’s Macbeth, released by Bel Air alongside this). The period is non-specific but modern (even though the De la Force family still have a servant and chauffeur-driven coach), and Blanche de la Force certainly doesn’t enter any traditional kind of convent where the nuns wear habits. Perhaps reflecting Blanche’s fear of the world outside – and despite the Prioress Madame de Croissy’s insistence that it is not a refuge – the convent does resemble a women’s refuge, with all the sisters wearing heavy woollen cardigans and sensible skirts, all nursing mugs of hot tea.
There is no reason however why the questions that arise in the opera – making sense of life in the face of approaching death, finding order and meaning in it, and examining how each person individually comes to terms with their mortality – can’t be examined outside of the historical context of the French revolution. Poulenc based the opera on a play by Georges Bernanos, which in turn was based on an original 1931 novel by Gertrud von le Fort (’Die Letzte am Schafott‘), which itself used the subject as a means of commenting on German social disorder following the fall of the Weimar Republic – so it’s certainly artistically valid for Tcherniakov to update the work if it’s in the service of throwing a new light on the themes. What is rather more controversial is that the director radically changes the original ending – which is a really powerful conclusion. Tchernaikov’s finale, which practically turns the original on its head, is just as powerful and dramatic in its own right, but whether it “improves” or casts any further light on the actions of Blanche de la Force is debatable. It could just be that it’s the complete disregard of the traditional approach that is what is really shocking about the ending here, and it results in an equal amount of audible booing and cheers at the director’s curtain call.
At the very least however, Tcherniakov’s staging forces the audience to think about the subject again in a different way, and it’s an opera that really does have a lot of deeper subtexts to be drawn out of it. What makes this production even more worthwhile in this respect is the conducting of Kent Nagano. The music in Dialogues des Carmélites can be a little strange and unsettling, even with some hauntingly beautiful melodies that evoke Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélissande, but Nagano seems to bring out those ambiguous qualities of the opera and its similarities to Debussy even more strongly, with a greater sense of warmth and harmony than, for example the Hamburg production. That harmony and warmth is also more evident in the singing – although not in every case – so I wouldn’t necessarily say that one is better than the other, but I certainly find the interpretation here much more intriguing, creating new resonances and opening up the opera in an unexpected way.
Whether the staging works or not in a live context, it certainly doesn’t come across well on DVD or Blu-ray. The majority of the opera takes place (as you can see from the cover) within a boxed room on the stage. This means that crossbeams frequently get in the way, obscuring the view of the singers, which is further hampered by a gauze screen that softens the image, desaturates the colours and causes hazy netting effects. The HD reproduction of this consequently isn’t good, and the encoding doesn’t really help matters, looking rather blurry in movements. Between the net effect and the encoding, this does appear to be a visually substandard release. (Although the cover states it’s a BD25 disc it is however, as you would expect, BD50 – ie. dual-layer). The audio tracks are better, the singing mostly clear, the orchestration warm and enveloping, but also revealing a good amount of colour and detail. It’s no match for the precise crystalline clarity of the DTS HD-MA 7.1 mix on the Hamburg Staatsoper production, and if you would prefer a more faithful version of the opera I would highly recommend that release, but there are enough intriguing elements in the Nagano/Tcherniakov production to make this certainly worth your time.
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