Giuseppe Verdi - Un Ballo in Maschera
Opera Australia, 2013
Andrea Molino, Alex Ollé, La Fura dels Baus, Diego Torre, Tamar Iveri, José Carbó, Mariana Pentcheva, Taryn Fiebig, Luke Gabbedy, Richard Anderson, Jud Arthur, Andrew Brunsdon, Dean Bassett
Opera Australia Cinema Live, 2013
There's always a moment of doubt about a new production by La Fura dels Baus when you wonder if they are going to pull off a spectacular coup in their vision for a particular work (as in their productions of Ligeti's Le Grand Macabre and Weill's Rise and Fall of the City of Mahagonny, for example) or whether it's going to be a complete fiasco (like their versions of Les Troyens and Die Zauberflöte). There's a moment at the start of the Opera Australia production of Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera when it looks like they might have taken things a little too far again, but even if there remain a few doubts about the validity of the concept here, the direction unquestionably draws out the full force of Verdi's work.
With La Fura dels Baus' Alex Ollé at the helm here the concept is at least a little more restrained than it might have been in the hands of his colleague Carlus Padrissa. Rather than try to make an opera fit an idea, Alex Ollé is a little more inclined to propose an overall concept and then let the meaning of the work speak for itself through attention to the performance. That was the case with his Tristan und Isolde and, once you get over the initial strangeness of Alfons Flores and Lluc Castells' designs, it proves to be the strength here in a late mid-period Verdi opera that can often be problematic to stage.

It's not however a great stretch to consider the idea of masks as being a central theme of the work, and that indeed is the focus of Alex Ollé's concept. The exposition of this theme, as well as the question of revolution that is inevitably a part of most Verdi works, is laid out during the overture. A screen showing modern projections of war, famine, death and revolution, emphasises those aspects in terms of our own society where there is a marked divide between those in power and the ordinary person on the street. That division is further emphasised through the wearing of masks - literal as well as metaphorical - on the part of King Gustav III and his court, while the ordinary citizens, on the rare occasions we see them, are unmasked and depicted in the style of antiglobalist protesters.
The masks worn by Gustav and the royal court then are not just worn during the Masked Ball in the final act of the opera, but almost throughout the whole work and only very occasionally removed. It's perhaps unfortunate that the flesh coloured masks cover the top of the head and sides of the face and are rather blocky in a way that makes everyone look like the android Kryten in the TV SF-comedy series 'Red Dwarf'. Once you get past this and accept the concept for what it is - that everyone, whether conspirator, friend of the king, or even the king himself must necessarily hide their true face - it's a valid if not particularly deep response to the work.

Barring the costumes (mainly marine blue suits with identifier IDs imprinted on them) and the wearing of masks however, Ollé's direction for the work remains fairly traditional and - up until the final scene at least - sticks closely to the original intentions of the work. There are a few minor touches (references to swords for example) that show the difference between the period setting of the original and the science-fiction like tyrannical dystopia of this production, but there's nothing that takes away from the force of the work. In some cases, such as the horrors of Amelia's midnight expedition to the cemetery showing the real victims of Gustav's reign, the changes actually serve to make the situation more realistic and down to earth.
Applying realism to the setting is exactly what Un Ballo in Maschera needs, and it's refreshing to see the qualities that are undoubtedly there in Verdi's composition not buried behind operatic mannerisms or the theatrical contrivances of the somewhat creaky plot. The benefits of this could be seen in the singing and the acting performances. The most impressive here for me was Tamar Iveri. Amelia is not the easiest role to sing or bring to life, but the Georgian soprano really showed a sense of personality that makes her part in Gustav's downfall credible. Her singing was magnificent throughout, commanding yet sensitive to the characterisation and the situation, never more so than in her spellbinding account of Amelia's Act III aria 'Morrò, ma prima in grazia' - sung significantly with her "human" face revealed from behind the mask seen elsewhere.

Having only previously seen the ludicrous old-fashioned operatic gesticulation of Marcelo Álvarez in two other stage productions of Un Ballo in Maschera, it was refreshing to see Gustav performed here by a fine singer who can also act. Diego Torre brought real dramatic intensity to the king, showing the depth of his love for Amelia as well as his flaws as a ruler in the personal decisions he lets influence them that give his enemies rightful cause to conspire against him. He's no tyrant or romantic fool here, but a real person with human weaknesses and his dilemma is fully felt. As Renato José Carbó started out not so strongly, but gained gravity as the opera progressed, ending up fully embodying the role, which perhaps realistically reflects the development of his character.
As good as each of the singers were in their own right however, the true quality of the work, its dark nature and the conflict of interests between its character, comes out fully in the duets and ensemble pieces. Together, with this kind of singing and intensity of performance, the effect was powerful. Alex Ollé's stage direction played to those strengths, never undercutting the important moments of true drama in the work. And, as I indicated earlier, more than that, he also managed to bring some gravity and realism to the weaker aspects of the plot. It's not clear quite why it's not only Gustav who dies at the end here but all the other guests as well, victims of a gas attack by the conspirators. The fact that they are wearing masks also - gas masks - adds another level to the notion of the masked ball, as well as invoking revolutionary imagery that we have become very familiar with on our televisions recently. And in that respect it's perhaps a more recognisable and realistic result of violent civil war arising out of protests to remove a hated leader.
Georges Bizet - Carmen
The Royal Opera House, Covent Garden, London, 2010
Constantinos
Carydis, Francesca Zambello, Christine Rice, Bryan Hymel, Aris Argiris,
Maija Kovalevska, Dawid Kimberg, Nicolas Courjal, Elena Xanthoudakis,
Paula Murrihy, Adrian Clarke, Harry Nicoll
Real-D Inc
To my mind, there are two ways to play Carmen
for maximum effect – one is slow and sultry, the other is fast and
passionate. I will admit though that I haven’t seen a production of Carmen
in well over ten years, so I was prepared to accept that there may be
other aspects that could be brought out of the opera. With a 3-D version
on a theatrical run in the cinema, it seemed like a perfect opportunity
then to consider what other ‘dimensions’ could indeed be found in
Bizet’s opera. While the Royal Opera House production did indeed reveal
that there are indeed deeper elements to an opera with more than its
share of terrific, universally-known, crowd-pleasing tunes, it never
really settled however on any one approach, and, perhaps most
disappointingly – although perhaps not unexpectedly considering the
experience of 3-D movies at the cinema – it failed to convince that the
3-D experience is anything more than a gimmick that doesn’t work all
that well.
This is a production that never
really comes to life, and the use of 3-D, in an attempt to bring you
closer to the experience, doesn’t make up for failings in the
performance itself. Opera already has an extra dimension that cinema and
theatre don’t traditionally have in their acting and storytelling, and
that is the expression of sentiments, actions and themes through the
music and the singing. There is nothing lacking in opera – and if
anything the 3-D production confirms this – that needs to be brought out
by any other means than the interpretation of the performers under the
direction of the conductor and stage director. Francesca Zambello’s
stage direction for this production of Carmen is in this respect
fairly conventional, working with the opera and playing to its
traditional strengths, a composite almost of every cliché associated
with the opera’s vision of Spanish gypsy culture, but not really having
anything new to contribute to it, no modern reinterpretation and – I
suppose we should be thankful for this at least – nothing added to make
it more accessible for either television viewing or 3-D cinema
projection. It’s a traditional, old-favourite opera, and it’s played
very safely.
As to whether the performance,
more importantly, gets to the emotional core of the opera – personally, I
found it unconvincing. The pace of Act 1 opts, I presume, for slow and
sultry, with gypsy girls aplenty, legs spread, arms akimbo, skirts
hitched up and much heaving cleavage on show during la Havanaise – “L’amour est un oiseau rebelle”,
but the real expression of the underlying passions and temptations are
better expressed in the music and singing, and here it just feels
lifeless with a tempo that drags. There is little wrong with the singing
of Christine Rice and Bryan Hymel in the principal roles, but whether
they felt the pressure of performing before cameras that get in much
closer than usual in filmed opera – although there was no toning down of
theatre mannerisms – the performances felt perfunctory, never getting
beneath the surface of whatever dark passions drive the characters to
their tragic fates. Only Maija Kovalevska in the role of Micaela,
brought out that other dimension I was looking for in the opera in her
Act 3 “Je dis que rien ne m’épouvante”, showing that there are
more noble sentiments and a more pure love can exist, but that it
doesn’t really stand a chance against the all-consuming lust and the
jealousy that fires Don José and Carmen.
If the lust doesn’t come across
convincingly, the painful jealousy that is going to lead to the tragic
conclusion is there also to some degree in Act 3 of this production, but
it’s too little and too late when the connection that brings Don José
and Carmen together hasn’t been sufficiently established. To its credit
then this production at least convinced me that there are other ways of
playing Carmen than slow and sultry or fast and passionate, and
that really, a balanced production should incorporate all those
elements, as well as the more noble sentiments of Micaela’s love and a
mother’s concern for her son. All those elements are there in this
production, but none of them seem to reach the heights demanded, nor
indeed work in common accord. The failure to achieve this is likewise
across the board, the staging not really finding a way of exploring
these emotions in any depth, the singing and acting feeling largely
perfunctory, and the filming for the screen never succeeding in bringing
it to life.
The RealD 3-D filming, directed
for the screen by Julian Napier, was extremely disappointing in this
respect. The most effective use of the 3-D effects were backstage at the
start of the opera, where the lighting is strong enough to set figures
in the foreground against the background, and in the opening shot on
stage when an imprisoned Don José stretches out his hands pleadingly –
one of the few original touches that indicate that both deaths foretold
in the Carmen’s card-reading come to pass. Elsewhere, backgrounds were
black or too dark, and figures were not close enough in the foreground
to achieve anything like the same effect, save for the very occasional
close-up arrangement, and only one or two obvious attempts to project
images towards the camera. Where the 3-D also fared badly in comparison
to regular High Definition live broadcasts and particularly with the
exceptionally high standard of Blu-ray discs, was in the artificiality
of the shimmery digital image that was created, one that also blurred
excessively in movement and, even when static, failed to produce a sharp
or detailed enough image.