Showing posts with label Fleur Barron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fleur Barron. Show all posts

Sunday, 7 October 2018

Verdi - Rigoletto (Belfast, 2018)


Giuseppe Verdi - Rigoletto

Northern Ireland Opera, Belfast - 2018

Gareth Hancock, Walter Sutcliffe, Sebastian Catana, Nadine Koutcher, Davide Giusti, Fleur Barron, Taras Berezhansky, Simon Thorpe, Ben McAteer, John Porter, David Robertson, Maria McGrann, Ann Jennings, Rebekah Coffey, Malachy Frame

Grand Opera House - 2 October 2018

How much a production design or conceptual approach adds to a work like Verdi's Rigoletto is questionable. Whether it's set as a Las Vegas crime caper, in a circus or in a cardboard box, Verdi is still Verdi, and the themes of Rigoletto are writ large. In fact, large works well in all the above cases, playing up to Verdi's thunderous tale of love and hate, virtue and vice, sacrifice and revenge. There's not a great deal of room for nuance or subtlety in either the music or the themes, but it does hit on those extremes of human nature in a way that is powerful and ever more recognisable in the nature of the world today.

Big is what we were promised by Walter Sutcliffe in his first full-scale opera production as the director of Northern Ireland Opera at the Grand Opera House in Belfast, and big is what we got. The production and Kaspar Glarner's sets were imported from the National Opera of Chile and the commencement of their assembly at the docks over a month ago even made the local press. It certainly proved to be a flexible if somewhat bulky piece of stage craft, flowing from one scene to the next, rooms and alcoves appearing and spinning off with members of the cast still on them as they hit the final notes of their arias. Rigoletto is an opera of momentum and you want to keep it flowing, and this impressive design permitted that.


It was however probably a bit surplus to requirements. I think there were three scene changes in the short overture alone, and I mean major reconfigurations of high walls, shifting and interlocking to establish mood and location, from a dark moonlit alley to the palace of the Duke of Mantua. Act I of Rigoletto is rarely satisfactory in terms of narrative presentation, it can feel heavy handed with the rakish Duke and his wild party, threatening any Counts who oppose his making off with their wives and daughters; the contrast too pronounced between the court jester's cruel evisceration of the nobility and the innocent home life he enjoys keeping his own daughter locked away. His convenient meeting with an assassin in an alley and his observation about Sparafucile killing with a sword while he does it with a word also feels contrived.

Contrived is also an apt description for what follows - all still in Act I - when we find that Gilda is being pursued by the Duke pretending to be a poor student, and that Rigoletto's friends/enemies at the court are planning to abduct the 'woman' the hunchback has hidden away from them. And yet, already Verdi is establishing connections and contrasts to set up in opposition and clash in a hugely melodramatic fashion. He's also capable of putting those sentiments across in an effective way, with hooks of melody, with opportunities in the vocal writing not just for the performers to show off, but to express the depth of those feelings, placing human emotions up against the cruel realities of the world. Act II and Act III confront that brilliantly.

I say that Verdi's music lacks nuance and subtlety and that may be true, but Rigoletto was innovative in many ways in the mid-19th century. It does dare to go to the darker side of human nature, Verdi does tie the music more meaningfully to actions and emotions, but he also conjures up atmospheric effects like the approaching thunderstorm in Act III. Despite the work also containing some of his most popular and well-known arias and melodies ('Questa o quella', 'Caro nome', 'Cortigiani'), Verdi also breaks away from standard number format and presents those opposing sentiments in a series of duets that propel and drive the work forward, culminating in Act III's famous quartet.

Somehow however, while the energy and drive were there, the spark or frisson of danger that should arise out of it never materialised in the Northern Ireland Opera/Ópera Nacional de Chile production. It was through no fault of the Gareth Hancock conducting the Ulster Orchestra, although it did often seem to have more drive than heart. It certainly was through no fault of the singing; Sutcliffe promised world-class singers for this production and, my goodness, he delivered on that. I don't think I've ever heard a live performance sung as well as this.


Making his first UK appearance, Sebastian Catana is a true Verdi baritone, something that is an increasingly rare commodity. The contrast between his delivery of Rigoletto and Plácido Domingo more recently playing a baritone in the same role is enormous. Catana's singing had power, resonance and control, his diction clear, his presence and performance convincing. We also has a Cardiff Singer of the World in Nadine Koutcher who could stop you in your tracks as Gilda, navigating not just the difficult and expressive coloratura, but also finding a place where the innocence of her character could co-exist with her developing sense of personality and self-realisation. Davide Giusti didn't have quite the same power of expression behind his voice, but never faltered and has his own distinctive Italianate style.

As good as all these performances were, there was still an emotional hollowness to the characterisation that suggests a lack of any real direction or interaction. That could be partly due to the set designs not really allowing the characters to engage with each other. Sparafucile for example smacks his hand when slapping Maddalena when she pleas for the life of the handsome Duke, and she flinches from the other side of the stage. Stylistically there's nothing wrong with touches like that - you get the idea well enough - but here and elsewhere it just doesn't make the same visceral connection with the music. Verdi's Rigoletto doesn't need modernisation or the conceptual approaches of those above mentioned productions and it doesn't need huge elaborate sets, but it can sustain them if there's heart and belief in the work. Despite production values and singing of the highest standards that just didn't come across in this Northern Ireland Opera production.


Links: Northern Ireland Opera

Monday, 27 August 2018

Purcell - Dido and Aeneas (Aix, 2018)

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