Showing posts with label Francesco Filidei. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Francesco Filidei. Show all posts

Thursday, 9 January 2020

Filidei - L'Inondation (Paris, 2019)


Francesco Filidei - L'Inondation

L’Opéra Comique, Paris - 2019

Emilio Pomárico, Joël Pommerat, Chloé Briot, Boris Grappe, Norma Nahoun, Cypriane Gardin, Enguerrand de Hys, Yael Raanan-Vandor, Guilhem Terrail, Vincent Le Texier

ARTE Concert - September 2019


The musical sound world might be unconventional and difficult to decipher, but at its best contemporary opera like traditional opera forges a close bond between music, subject and character, bringing out something that music or drama on its own can't achieve, making it relevant and meaningful for a modern audience. Francesco Filidei managed that with his first opera in 2016, Giordano Bruno - for me one of the best new opera works of recent years - but French playwright Joël Pommerat has also found opera to be an effective way to draw something more from his dramas.

For his first original libretto for a new commission at L’Opéra Comique in Paris, Pommerat has therefore been matched with a composer very capable of exploring the writer's familiar but complex themes relating to family seen in his previous opera adaptations (Thanks to My Eyes, Au Monde, Pinocchio). L'Inondation (The Flood) is an original adaptation of a 1929 story by Yvegeny Zamayatin, a Russian author best known for 'We' a dystopian novel that directly influenced Orwell's writing of 1984.



L'Inondation is nonetheless a contemporary work that explores contemporary issues, or at least issues that have always been relevant and which seem no easier to deal with today. It's about the strain that has developed between a husband and wife who have been married almost 15 years but who have never had a child. They hear the sounds of children in neighbouring apartments and it causes a conflict of emotions, making their life together feel perfunctory and mechanical but with simmering emotions ready to boil over as each try to find ways to deal with the growing distance between them.

Or perhaps the metaphor is not so much that of something boiling over as much as a river filling up and overflowing its banks, which is the one that is evidently used to describe the situation in L'Inondation. When one of the neighbours in their apartment block dies, his young daughter is sent temporarily to stay with the man and the woman. The girl is 14, a significant age since their own child would have been that age if one had quickly followed their marriage. The arrival of a young girl certainly brings something new to their marriage, but as has already been indicated with an early scene showing a murder, it's not going to lead to a happy outcome.


While the nature of what happens is shocking, what leads up to it won't come as a surprise to anyone, but rather like the now well-used metaphors of stormy weather conditions and rising tides leading up to an emotional breaking point, the real challenge in a modern adaptation of the Zamayatin's work is getting underneath the human and social behaviours that lead up to it. Without having read Zamayatin, one suspects that his interest is similar to exploring the social conditions that trigger an extreme female response found also in Lady Macbeth of Mtsensk, as well as the corruption of the family/social unit that you see hinted at in Gorky's 'Vassa'.


The conditions that lead up to the overflow in L'Inondation are evidently less concerned with a historical examination of Russian society at the beginning of the 20th century than in how this would be seen nowadays in the context of mental illness, how it can develop and the devastating impact it can have. It also of course explores the more universally recognisable conditions of relations between men and women, how society views the roles each has to play, and examines the nature of the family unit.

To do that L'Inondation takes a wider view of life in the St. Petersburg tenement block than just that between the man and the woman and it's here that the opera is able to work on multiple levels, so to speak. Most evidently that's visible in Eric Soyer's three-level set design, with the man and woman on the ground floor, a young married couple with young children and a baby on the way on the second floor, and with the upper floor adding an almost narrative level and backgrounding, with a narrator/policeman making remarks about the case in an attic room with another room showing the young girl hanging out with friends from outside the tenement block.

What is clever about this is that it is not only able to switch from one scene to another fluidly, but it is able to show simultaneous events, leaving it up to the viewer to determine how much of what goes on elsewhere has an impact on what develops on the ground floor, which evidently takes the brunt of the overflow of the river. Certainly there is much hinted in the music and this is where the skills of a composer like Francesco Filidei are evident, the score providing a complex sound world that interlinks and connects sounds, emotions and inner lives between each of the characters, even as far as expressing the reliving of emotions and mental disturbance through the doubling of the young girl.



An additional element of self-identification would probably determine whether you actually gain any greater insight into the development of mental illness and the outcome of murder, with the associations of release, guilt, shame, and therapy that take place post-facto (or whether it's the post-facto is actually the real important aspect of the situation), but what is clear is that all the other elements are well catered for in Joël Pommerat's direction of the work for the Opéra Comique. Much like George Benjamin's work with Martin Crimp, you get a sense of true collaboration between the creators here. Other than the obvious metaphor of the storm nothing is over-explained, the opera is not wordy or expositional, it allows the music and silences to express just as much as the dramatic action.

As far as the music is concerned that appears to be in very safe hands with Emilio Pomárico teasing out all the little details, the conflicts and interconnectivity, the highs, lows and surges of Filidei's score. There is also room left for the performances to bring real human depth to the situations. Chloé Briot has challenges aplenty in balancing the woman's containment of her feelings with her overflow at the conclusion. The singing range is accordingly difficult, but she gives a great performance. There are intense performances also from Boris Grappe as the man and Yael Raanan-Vandor as the female neighbour, but even the acting performances from the children are superb and contribute to the dramatic and emotional situations.


Links: L’Opéra Comique, ARTE Concert

Sunday, 11 December 2016

Filidei - Giordano Bruno (Paris, 2016)


Francesco Filidei - Giordano Bruno

Théâtre de Gennevilliers, Paris - 2016

Léo Warynski, Antoine Gindt, Lionel Peintre, Jeff Martin, Ivan Ludlow, Guilhem Terrail, Laura Holm, Eléonore Lemaire, Johanne Cassar, Lorraine Tisserant, Charlotte Schumann, Aurélie Bouglé, Benjamin Aguirre Zubiri, David Tricou, René Ramos Premier, Julien Clément, Antoine Kessel, Florent Baffi

ARTE Concert - 19th April 2016

There's clearly a very considered and structured approach taken by composer Francesco Filidei in relation to both the philosophical and musical content of his opera about Giordano Bruno. Interrogated by the Inquisition in Venice and condemned to death by the Catholic Church in Rome for blasphemy and heresy for putting his belief in scientific truths before religious dogma and mysticism, the Dominican friar was burned at the stake on 17th February 1600. Filidei's work attempts to give voice to his philosophical thoughts as well as dramatising his trial and execution and it results in a tremendous piece of musical theatre.

Filidei's opera divides the work into twelve scenes that interweave across the two halves of the work, the first taking place in Venice, the other in Rome. The twelve scenes themselves are divided between giving a voice to Bruno's philosophical ideas, with alternative scenes showing how he suffers for them at the hands of the religious authorities who will not have their faith challenged. That's a strong enough construct that allows for drama and contemplation and it's a blend that the composer and his librettist Stefano Busellato treat extraordinarily well, the ideas and situations providing the composer with the opportunity to create a rich sound world.



As a further measure, to add to the richness of the work and give further robustness to the construction, Filidei chooses to base each of the twelve scenes around each of the notes of the chromatic scale. The opera's first scene 'Preamble' - set in the smoking ruins in the aftermath of the auto-da-fé - starts on F-sharp, with subsequent scenes based on the trial following a descending path on the scale, while the scenes relating to Giordano Bruno's philosophy each start on an ascending note on the scale. The burning at the stake in Scene 11 runs through the chromatic scale again in reverse until scene 12 arrives at F-sharp again.

More than just being a technical trick, Filidei's sound world in Giordano Bruno is one that relates very closely to the situation, and particularly to the vocal expression. Some scenes are spare and atmospheric with repetitive phrasing of voices in the style of Salvatore Sciarrino, others multi-layered with choral sounds that draw influence from the Renaissance era of the work, of Palestrina by way of Claude Vivier (whose Kopernikus comes very much to mind here). Filidei's writing however is strong enough to encompass the vast range of the work's philosophical content, its consideration of life and death, of the exuberance of life in a carnival scene, in an escapist fantasy while in a prison cell, or in the full horror of a barbaric ritual execution.

At every stage however, there is great attention paid to the use of voices and the range of voices. Giordano Bruno is sung by a baritone (Lionel Peintre here running through a whole range of emotional and physical challenges), the Inquisitors are a tenor and a bass, with Pope Clement VIII sung by a countertenor. Also of great importance to the whole fabric of the work are the twelve individual voices of the chorus who contribute to provide an almost celestial or spiritual side to the work, as well as a very physical human presence as the voice of the people. They are a wave of flesh and ideas that Bruno has to alternately reach out to and then resist, an embodiment of the conflict he undergoes over the course of the twelve scenes.



Filmed at the Théâtre de Gennevilliers in Paris in 2016 not long after its creation and premiere at the Casa de Musica in Porto, it's hard to imagine the work being any better presented. The direction of the Ensemble Intercontemporain is taken up by Léo Warynski, and - set to the back of the stage - their presence emphasises how important the sound world is for this opera, how it creates a specific mood, and it draws attention to just how complex and varied the music is in relation to each of its scenes.

The stage sets and props are minimal, but likewise effective for the content and the tone of the work. A huge moon-like hemisphere hangs over the stage and the use of lighting all contribute to capturing the reality, the philosophy and an understanding of the nature of the world being explored and challenged here, which is nothing less than infinity and the place of man within it. The dramatic sequences are just as well depicted, again using simple effects and minimal props to give a sense of the forces massed against Giordano Bruno and the fate that is in store for him, and those final scenes at the stake indeed have a terrific impact.

The attention given over to the musical performance and the scene setting are all there however to serve as a platform for the all-important human presence on the stage. The place of man is at the centre of all these ideas, rituals, philosophy and beliefs and the conflicts between them are all focussed through the figure of Giordano Bruno. Lionel Peintre carries the weight of this conflict with a terrific singing performance, but Filidei makes such marvellous use of the voice that the strength of those ideas and the conflicts between seem to assail him from every side. The physicality of the performances, with the chorus and dancers also having an important part to play, gives the words real weight, showing the power of ideas and ideals to change the world.