Charpentier - Médée (Basel, 2015 - Webcast)

Marc-Antoine Charpentier - Médée

Theater Basel, 2015

Andrea Marcon, Nicolas Brieger, Magdalena Kožená, Anders J. Dahlin, Luca Tittoto, Meike Hartmann, Robin Adams, Silke Gäng, Yukie Sato, Jenny Högström, Regina Dahlen, Tiago Pinheiro de Olivieira, Daniel Issa, Ismael Arróniz Gónzales, Santiago Garzon

Culturebox - 21 January 2015
 
Compared to some other versions of the Medea story, Marc-Antoine Charpentier's musical arrangements and Thomas Corneille's libretto for Médée can seem somewhat dry and formal. Musically it's a little austere, the baroque instrumentation of plucked strings and theorbo not quite as expressive as you might find elsewhere in other versions of the work. Medea however relies on the shock of the climax, and if it takes a little time getting there, Charpentier's conclusion is up there with the best of them.

A lot of course depends on the staging, not that there have been many productions of this work since it was first performed in 1693, and just as much rests on the singer playing the part of Medea. Theater Basel's 2015 production may be updated to a more modern setting, but it retains the simplicity of line of Charpentier's score, and it relies heavily on the casting of Magdalena Kožená to supply all the fire that is needed to bring out the underlying darkness that the score itself barely hints at. And, largely, it succeeds.

The modern setting of Creon's Corinth here has something of the look of a Soviet dictatorship, albeit one that revels in the luxury of its own success and power. Assurance of that power is however, as we discover later, a fatal mistake where Medea is concerned. Creon however believes that an alliance between his daughter Creusa and Jason will consolidate his position, Jason having recently fled Thessaly looking for asylum. Jason is a warrior Creon can use, but it would not be in his interests to have a woman like his wife Medea in Corinth. She's the reason for their taking flight, the people of Thessaly troubled by her sorcery. Medea is therefore "asked to leave" by Creon, and, as we know, she takes terrible revenge for this, and for Jason's betrayal in leaving her and staying behind to marry Creusa.

The mechanics of laying out the history and the relationships between each of the figures isn't the most invigorating, Charpentier placing additional emphasis here on Medea forming an alliance with Oronte, who has been displaced from Creusa's affections by the arrival of Jason in the court of Corinth. There are certainly a few dramatic touches to add some colour, often coming at the end of each of the acts. Director Nicholas Brieger tries to integrate some of these more baroque elements in a different way. Act II, for example, ends with an kind of cabaret show where the Italian singer wears a red wig, seemingly parodying the red-haired Medea, but it doesn't really follow the idea through.

Act III of Médée also ought to end with Medea enacting the familiar scene of her performing her sorcery over a cauldron, preparing the poison for the dress that she will present to Creusa. Charpentier and Corneille's version takes an even more colourful approach to this scene than usual, the stage directions specifying that the robe is "brought by flying demons", with Medea's state of mind given corporeal form in the shape of La Jealousie and La Vengeance, through them forging a direct link to Hell. The demons are there all right in the Basel staging, as are Jealousy and Vengeance, and the force of Medea's passions are all there in Kožená's singing, but it still doesn't quite reach the level of intensity found in Euripides or even Cherubini's opera version of this scene.

Sorcery plays its part most openly in Act IV, where Medea evades Creon's guards and drives him to madness when she turns them into beguiling women, but the implication that comes though most strongly in Corneille's libretto is that Medea's power is not her sorcery or her temperament. It's herself as a woman, and the underestimation of a woman's power by Creon. You're mistaken, she tells Creon in this scene, if you think your laws apply to me - "Souviens-toi, je suis Médée". Charpentier's woman scorned doesn't just condemn Creusa to a painful death in a poisoned robe, and doesn't just destroy Jason and her own children (as horrifying as this is alone), she destroys Creon, leaves his court in flames and pretty much leaves an obliterated Corinth in her wake. Now, that's one heck of a Medea.

If the baroque music isn't quite expressive or discordant enough to get this across in modern terms - though Andrea Marcon and the Basel orchestra certainly find plenty of colour and dynamic in the score - it's abundantly clear in the writing for the mezzo-soprano voice and in the delivery of it by Magdalena Kožená. I haven't heard a lot of Kožená over the last decade, but she demonstrates here that her voice is as powerful as it ever was. It's such a full and richly toned voice, strong and controlled right across the range, and utterly dramatic when it comes to those moments of Medea expressing the full extend of her fury. Anders J. Dahlin's haute-contre doesn't stand a chance against such a force, but his Jason is no wimp either, steely rather, capable of fine expression. There is a fine performance too from Meike Hartmann's Creusa (her death scene almost devastating) and a solid baritone Creon in Luca Tittoto.

Links: Culturebox

Rameau - Les Indes Galantes (Bordeaux, 2014)

Jean-Philippe Rameau - Les Indes Galantes

L'Opéra National de Bordeaux, 2014

Christophe Rousset, Les Talens Lyriques, Laura Scozzi, Amel Brahim Djelloul, Benoît Arnould, Eugénie Warnier, Olivera Topalovic, Judith van Wanroij, Vittorio Prato, Anders Dahlin, Nathan Berg, Thomas Dolié

Medici.tv, Culturebox Live Internet Streaming - 27 February 2014

A year after the bicentenaries of Wagner and Verdi and the centenary of Britten, it's not difficult to notice that 2014 marks a few other significant anniversaries in Richard Strauss 150 and Gluck 300. There is however another major composer whose anniversary will probably not receive as much attention and that is Jean-Philippe Rameau, who died 250 years ago in 1764. In France however, you can expect a little more fuss will be made of the successor to Lully at the Royal Court in Versailles, a composer who wrote several important treatises on harmony, and one of the greatest composers of the great French tradition of the tragédie-lyrique.

L'Opéra National de Bordeaux have gone for something on the lighter side of Rameau, but the opéra-ballet Les Indes Galantes is nevertheless a hugely challenging work to stage. Done right - and it's not performed very often - it can be just as dazzling and entertaining as Rameau's more famous pieces. That much was demonstrated by William Christie and Les Arts Florissants who put on a spectacular presentation of the work directed by Andrei Serban for the Paris Opera in 1999 (recorded for DVD in 2003). The Bordeaux production, directed and choreographed by Laura Scozzi, takes a very different approach from the Paris production, but it's no less dazzling an exhibition of the supreme beauty and majesty of Jean-Philippe Rameau's music.

Les Indes Galantes might be relatively light entertainment, but made up of five separate short pieces (a prologue and four entrées), it presents certain challenges for a director who wants to make something more of them. Laura Scozzi not only wants to make the little divertissements entertaining and interconnected (which is a challenge in itself), but in the year of the anniversary of Rameau, she clearly wants to prove that the composer still has a place in the modern world. Andrei Serban's production for Paris shows that this Rameau opera can be handled respectfully and still be highly entertaining for a modern audience, but for the purpose of Scozzi's intentions, Les Indes Galantes not only has to be entertaining, it has to also needs to be relevant.

Updating Baroque opera can often be controversial, and there's no question that the Bordeaux production is really going to challenge some traditional opera-goers. That's immediately evident from the Prologue, which is set in a Garden of Eden and features ten dancers wearing not a stitch prancing joyfully around for almost 30 minutes. Once you get past the shock of it, it proves however to be a perfect way to introduce the work, representing a more innocent age. Towards the end of the prologue however, the outside modern world starts to intrude, the naked Adams are dressed in suits and work overalls, the Eves are left behind to deal with domestic matters. Innocence has been defiled, and the three cupids set out exploring the impact this has had on love in the modern world. Love still exists in these far-flung places, but Cupid's arrow is less sure in its aim now, and the three love tourists, passing through airport security with holiday souvenirs, jetting through time and space, find a very different kind of world from the one celebrated 300 years ago by Rameau.

On the other hand, a closer examination of the situations in Rameau's four entrées show that perhaps things aren't all that different. The 1st Entrée, Le Turc généreux, is the familiar operatic situation of a Turkish pasha abducting a white woman, updated here to a more modern context of piracy on the high seas and the arrival of refugees on hostile shores. The 2nd Entrée, Les Incas de Pérou, updates the forbidden love of an Inca Princess for Spanish conquistador to the love of a village girl for a wealthy tourist, with the twist that the girl is the daughter of a South American drug baron and the tourist an undercover agent for the drug enforcement agency. I don't think Rameau had helicopter raids and grenade battles in mind for this section, but it works perfectly with the theme and the music.

The rationale for Scozzi's updatings becomes clearer in the 3rd and 4th Entrées. Set in Persia, Fatime is in love with Tacmes in Les Fleurs but, jealous of how he responds to Atalide, she disguises herself as a man. In the context of modern-day Persia/Iran - all bikinis and burqas - it becomes a particularly hard-hitting indictment of the degradation, abuse and mistreatment of women in society. It's a theme that Scozzi recognises is not just an anachronism from Rameau's time, but that it stems right back to the Garden of Eden in the Prologue and continues right through to the present day.

That's also how the 4th Entrée, Les Sauvages, plays out in its modern-day America setting where Zima is torn between two suitors. The director cleverly shows that choice in the context of the place of women in capitalist society as being a choice between being a goddess in the kitchen and something else in the bedroom. Zima however dumps them both and goes for an environmental warrior saving the forests (respect for nature versus the exploiting of the world's resources yet another connecting theme in this multi-layered production).

None of this in any way negates or distorts the intention or indeed a word of the original libretto. It's actually a highly imaginative and intelligent response to the work that does indeed have the desired impact. Les Indes Galantes is not just some period piece and Rameau is not just a historical composer, but rather Scozzi's production shows that the opera-ballet can not only be entertaining, but also relatable and meaningful to an audience in the present day. That's quite an achievement.

Not only is the concept viable and perfectly structured, ending with the hope of a return to Eden and paradise regained, but the staging throughout is inventive and highly entertaining. It's a massive undertaking to provide a different set for each entrée and keep the whole work flowing, but Natascha Leguen de Kerneizon's sets are almost impossibly elaborate and beautiful. And although there's a serious message here, the intention to entertain is not forgotten, the director also choreographing the ballet sections, using dance and humorous pantomimes (usually involving the three cupids, wonderfully played by actors), connecting it all with projections. Attention to the music and matching the situations perfectly to it proves that Les Indes Galantes can be capable of expressing truth and real human sentiments even within these humorous little escapades. 

Another vital ingredient in the production, and one that is in very safe and experienced hands, is the musical direction of Christophe Rousset and the playing of his Talens Lyriques orchestra. This is a buoyant, vivid, exciting performance, attuned to the rhythms of the work with an ability to express a much wider range of situations and sentiments than you would think. The Bordeaux production doesn't have the luxury of the Paris production's A-list casting, making use of a smaller troupe of singers who play multiple roles across the five stories. They are light but sweet of voice, and carry the musical expression of the works perfectly, clearly well-coached by Rousset.

Considerable thought and ingenuity has gone into this - to say nothing of expense - on the part of all involved, but it's to the benefit of the production and the concept as a whole. I really can't over-emphasise how impressed I was with the cleverness of the concept, the creativity and the imagination of Scozzi's Bordeaux production, and the fact that it's all done to serve Rameau and take his magnificent work deservedly into the 21st century.

The Bordeaux production of Les Indes Galantes can be viewed in its entirety for free via on-line streaming on the Medici.tv and Culturebox (until 26/08/14) websites.

Rameau - Zoroastre

Jean-Philippe Rameau - Zoroastre

Drottningholm Slottsteater Sweden, 2006

Pierre Audi, Christophe Rousset, Les Talens Lyriques, Anders J. Dahlin, Sine Bundgaad, Anna Maria Panzarella

Opus Arte

First performed in 1749, the reason this wonderful piece of French Baroque opera from Jean-Philippe Rameau, court composer to Louis XV and contemporary of Bach, Scarlatti and Handel, stands up so well today is undoubtedly down to the timeless nature of its subject matter. Rather than being based on Greek gods and legends, Zoroastre rather is set in the fictional land of Bactria and its subject, dealing with the timeless struggle between forces of good and evil, a battle between darkness and light on a vast epic scale, could even lend itself to a science-fiction fantasy interpretation.

Here, Abramane takes advantage of the unexpected death of the King of Bactria to attempt to seize power through an alliance with the Princess Érinice, usurping it from the rightful heir, Amélite, and exiling her lover Zoroastre, who has already spurned the attentions of Érinice. Zoroastre however is inducted into a higher state of awareness by a guru, Oromasès, and returns to Bactria to save Amélite. An epic power struggle develops then between the forces of goodness and love on one side and evil and hatred on the other. It’s a familiar struggle, with Masonic references, that just as easily be connected to The Magic Flute (Zoroastre = Sarastro), as it could be a premonition of the French Revolution (or if you fancy a Eurotrash interpretation, even the Batman mythos and Dracula stories fit the model surprisingly closely).

This production however is utterly faithful to its period setting and presented with magnificent attention to the smallest detail. Performed in an 18th century theatre in Drottningholm in Sweden, with its highly effective original pulley-operated stage scenery, the production is beautifully costumed, impressively staged and immaculately lit, filmed exceptionally well, with unusual close-ups and angles that draw you in (although the semi-obscured shaky overhead shot is over-used and really offers nothing).

The same enthusiasm can be shown towards the performance. Although the plot can be a little obscure and there are indeed some long opera seria arias that can occasionally be testing - without the excess of any da capo singing it has to be said - there is nonetheless a surprising amount of engaging dramatic action and interaction that keeps it well-grounded, as well as some unusual dance moves that add well to the emotional expression. The orgy of bloodlust in the Black Mass sequence that takes up the whole of Act 4 is one of the most dramatically staged scenes you’ll see in any production, darker and more menacing than Don Giovanni’s descent into Hell.

Most effective in this respect is Rameau’s music itself, which has pounding baroque rhythms several hundred years before Michael Nyman appropriated them, but is also dynamic and lyrical, innovatively introducing clarinets into the orchestra ensemble. Les Talens Lyriques ensemble’s playing of this revived piece is exemplary, and the singing flawless, although particular mention should be made of Anna Maria Panzarella’s Érinice for her powerful singing, as well as the sheer emotional force contained within it and her intense performance.

On the technical side, the all-region Blu-ray is also pretty much flawless. 16:9 widescreen, the superbly lit production shows tremendous detail in its 1080i encode. My amplifier identified the audio tracks as full bit-rate PCM, in stereo and in 5.1, though it’s listed as Dolby True HD on the case, but uncompressed the surround track in particular gives wonderful tone and body to the period instrumentation, and offers a full dynamic range to the singing. In an hour-long documentary, the production team offer their thoughts on the opera and its staging. A visual synopsis and cast list is also provided, along with a booklet that puts the opera into context. A fascination production of a little-known baroque opera, this is a strong package all-around, one that certainly merits a couple of viewings.