Erlanger - L'Aube rouge (Wexford, 2023)

Camille Erlanger - L'Aube rouge

Wexford Festival Opera, 2023

Guillaume Tourniaire, Ella Marchment, Andreea Soare, Andrew Morstein, Emma Jüngling, Ava Dodd, Dominica Williams, Giorgi Manoshvili, Philippe-Nicolas Martin, Rory Musgrave, Thomas Birch, Ami Hewitt, Leah Redmond, Corina Ignat, Judith Le Breuilly, Conor Baiano, Hannah O’Brien, Andrii Kharlamov, Rory Lynch, Gabriel Seawright, Vladimir Sima

O'Reilly Theatre, National Opera House - 25th October 2023

You would expect things to get a little serous in a festival season based on the theme of Women & War. Without having to emphasise the point, sticking closely to the original 15th century setting, the Wexford Festival Opera production of Donizetti's Zoraida di Granata nonetheless succeeded in bringing out those themes strongly in such a way that you could hardly fail to see it echoed in contemporary real world events. That theme is should be just as effective in L'aube rouge (The Red Dawn), an early 20th century work of verismo character by Camille Erlanger that involves the action of a band of Nihilists in pre-revolutionary Russia plotting the assassination of the Grand Duc. Composed in 1911, not far removed from the historical events it depicts, director Ella Marchment gives the stage production a closer contemporary feel that should also relate to today, but as intriguing as it is to consider this forgotten work and as well performed as it is, it doesn't succeed in making the impact you feel it ought to.

It's an interesting subject for an opera by a French composer of Jewish origin at a time when the divisions caused by the Dreyfuss affair had revealed deep-rooted prejudice and divisions in French society, and when the Russian Revolution was stirring not far around the corner. Much is made of this in the festival programme notes for L'Aube rouge  but other than to provide context and suggest a connection with the Italian verismo movement, neither political element really appears to exert much influence on the opera. Apart from a police raid in the first act on the anarchist group in St Petersburg that is quickly dispersed and the shock finale of Act III when Sergei is shot by a member of his own group, the emphasis in L'Aube rouge appears to be more concerned with setting up the tragic and impossible romance between Olga and Sergei.

Olga is the daughter of General Lovarov, the despised chief of police, so she is immediately distrusted when she appears at a meeting of the anarchist group. Sergei however vouches for her and falls in love with her, but there is no future for their romance in such a place, and so they move to Moscow. Olga's family however have other plans for her that include a marriage to Pierre De Ruys, a surgeon and important establishment figure, but Sergei, who Olga's father has convinced her has died in a Siberian prison camp, shows up at the wedding and the two of them run away together to Paris. 

Sergei however is shot by another member of the Nihilist group when it is believed that he is no longer dedicated to the cause. He is saved only by the intervention of Olga, who convinces the man she deserted at their wedding, Pierre De Ruys, to perform life-saving surgery. Determined to prove himself however Sergei on recovery embarks on a mission that will assure his death, attempting to assassinate the Grand Duc. It's enough to drive Olga herself to madness and death.

It's high melodrama, but as far as the themes go L'Aube rouge undoubtedly emphasises the impact that war has on preventing people living ordinary lives, and as Olga is the central character of the opera (with in Andreea Soare, a gifted soprano capable of really making her the central focus and heart of the opera), the plight of women and any hope of living in peace and love is emphatically shown as being doomed. Certainly all the indications of that are there in the music which, even if the main part of the opera revolves around an impossible romance, has a deep undercurrent of tragedy within it. Even the second Act wedding scene and the fourth Act dances are all powerfully and dramatically scored in a way that suggests that any celebration is fleeting and only a brief respite before the real world crashes in again.

Photo: Clive Barda

It may be powerfully scored by Erlanger, but there is little that stands out as memorable in either the plot development or in any distinct flair of musical expression. Even so, like many neglected opera's from the beginning of the 20th century, it remains fascinating to consider where it fits in and how, along with many other composers, it seeks to find a new voice and a place for opera in a post-Wagner and post-Verdi age. Certainly you can here echoes of the verismo composers, the dramatic writing fitting in well with the darker side of Puccini (Tosca in particular), the overall tone and subject matter reminding one of Alfani's Risurrezione (performed at Wexford in 2017) and Giordano's Siberia.

Two things however stand out in this performance however that make it very much worthwhile, aside from it being an intriguing rare opera. Conducted by Guillaume Tourniaire, the playing of the orchestra was exceptional, the warmth and dynamism of the music enhanced by the beautiful acoustics of Wexford's O'Reilly Theatre. The other stand out was the commanding performance of Andreea Soare as Olga. She demonstrated beautiful clarity, control and lyricism even at the most anguished of moments, but was also capable of dropping to softness and even playfulness in the singing of a Russian song. It was a great, fully rounded performance that is essential to the character of the work. Andrew Morstein as Sergei/Serge also had a lovely tenor voice, but didn't have the volume behind it to carry the dramatic import. Giorgi Manoshvili's Kouragine was also worthy of note.

Much as Ella Marchment's direction and ideas for the Wexford production tries to give it a contemporary feel that aligns with the festival theme of Women & War, the opera's uneven balance of love and war doesn't allow it to have the same impact as the production of Donizetti's Zoraida di Granata the previous evening. The final act here should bring back the dramatic tension of the activities of the Nihilists that end up taking the lives of both Sergei and Olga, but it ends up feeling less of a humanitarian issue than a romantic one. 

The director can only work as best as the material allows however, and the production design strived to keep the drama grounded in concrete reality heading towards inevitable tragedy and not idealise the romantic aspect, using a multi-purpose staircase and a grim concrete background that feels oppressive and inescapable. Even in Paris, the set holds the same basic feel, the frenzied dancing of the final act likewise unable to shake the inevitability that it is leading towards a bleak finale.

Links: Wexford Festival Opera

Thomas - Le Songe d’une nuit d’été (Wexford, 2021)

Ambroise Thomas - Le Songe d’une nuit d’été

Wexford Festival Opera, 2021

Guillaume Tourniaire, Stefania Panighini, Hasmik Torosyan, Valentina Mastrangelo, Sébastien Guèze, Tommaso Barea, Vasyl Solodkyy, Rory Dunne, Kathleen Norchi

National Opera House, O'Reilly Theatre, Wexford - 20th October 2021

As far as this year's Wexford Festival Opera's 'Shakespeare in the Heart' programme is concerned, the opening night opera, Catalani's Edmea, had only a tenuous bordering on non-existent connection with Shakespeare, but if you thought you might get something closer to an adaptation of an original Shakespeare drama with Le Songe d'une nuit d'été, you'd be in for a surprise. Or maybe not considering it is Ambroise Thomas whose Hamlet with a happy ending is somewhat free in its interpretation of that great drama. Le Songe d'une nuit d'été even more so, since in fact it isn't actually an adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream at all. What it is however is a charming and entertaining tribute to Shakespeare with considerable musical and melodic qualities, which is the least that you can expect from Thomas.

Le Songe d'une nuit d'été is kind of like Thomas's version of Upstart Crow or Shakespeare in Love, a playful look at who Shakespeare, the man we know so little about, might have been; a genius certainly but one who from the content and depth of character in his own works, you might have expect to be someone with his own lived through troubles. Thomas doesn't dig too deeply or take that duty terribly seriously; William Shakespeare here is no Macbeth or Hamlet, and an opéra-comique is no place for a character that dark. Thomas's opera depicts Shakespeare as more of a Falstaff, and he even includes Shakespeare's fictional comic character in Le Songe, seen here preparing a feast for the playwright who is going a little bit drunkenly off the rails.

He's not the only person concerned about Shakespeare. Well, concerned is probably not the word to describe Falstaff's preoccupations, the rotund braggart more hopeful that the party might bring some attractive women. And indeed it's the two women who he flirts with who actually have Shakespeare's best interests at heart. Queen Elizabeth I and her lady Olivia have come to the tavern, disguised in masks of course, to see for themselves the current troubling state of the playwright, hoping to find a way to bring the great poet back to his calling. Shakespeare's behaviour however only becomes more unstable with their intervention, as it only introduces feelings of jealousy in his friend Lord Latimer, who is in love with Olivia and suspicious of her being at the tavern. After William passes out in a drunken stupor, a letter from the Queen commands Falstaff to bring him to the palace in Richmond Park.

What passes in Richmond Park then does indeed seem like some kind of Midsummer Night's Dream to the still befuddled Shakespeare, causing only further doubts and insecurities when he suspects that the mysterious genie who claims to be his muse is actually the Queen. And is she actually showing romantic inclination towards him? With all the confusion over identities and intentions caused by all these disguised furtive goings-on in the dark, there is a feeling that this is more of a case of Much Ado about Nothing, even as the jealousies roused have the unfortunate result of provoking a duel between Shakespeare and Latimer.

There's little then for the third act to do than just unravel the whole mystery and get Shakespeare back to his writing desk with his pen. I'm not sure of the timeline used in this fiction, since the references made suggest that most of the great Shakespeare plays have already been written before this crisis, but even if the Queen's intervention only serves to brings out the late romances, then it's a result and we should be thankful of a job well done.

And a job well done as far as Ambroise Thomas is concerned. As charming as they are and although there are excetions, I'm fairly immune or perhaps ambivalent to a lot of 19th century French opera and opéra-comique. Thomas, like Berlioz (Les Troyens excepted), Gounod (Faust excepted), Offenbach and Massenet (Werther and Don Quixote very much excepted) all offer charming but largely inconsequential light opera entertainment. They are enjoyable for as long as you listen to them and can certainly impress when they are well staged, but most touch only fleetingly and superficially on any real human situations and leave little in the way of a lasting impression. They rather seem more concerned with providing skillful musical entertainments to the conventional arrangements and situations to the expectations of the audience of their time. That's not to take away anything from the quality of the musical composition however, and those qualities are evident in Le Songe d'une nuit d'été.

Make no mistake about it, while it has many of the characteristics of an opéra-comique in terms of characterisation, situations and arrangement of musical pieces, Le Songe d'une nuit d'été is of a higher standard altogether. Certainly as far as it is expertly played in Wexford. The Act I tavern scene gives plenty of opportunity for Thomas to shine, with Falstaff's men providing a bright lively chorus for the drinking celebrations. There are also plenty of opportunities given for the singers to show what they can do, particularly the Elizabeth I role which is impressively taken here by Armenian mezzo-soprano Hasmik Torosyan with an almost Queen of the Night authority and coloratura range. It's a terrific cast all around in fact, the soprano role of Olivia (a superb Valentina Mastrangelo) no less brightly and challenging scored, Tommaso Barrea is also notable in his characterisation of Falstaff as a swaggering self-sure peacock rather than the usual overweight butt of everyone's jokes. Sébastien Guèze and Vasyl Solodkyy as William Shakespeare and Lord Latimer also delivered everything that was required here.

The musical interpretation and performance was also of an exceptionally high quality. It was conducted marvellously by Guillaume Tourniaire with an orchestra "reduced to accommodate the COVID-19 safety requirements". Again, as with Edmea, this had no noticeable impact on the performance and managed to completely convey the sheer melodic richness and drive of Thomas's score. The idea of taking advantage of the reduced seating to arrange the chorus in the lower side stalls - female left, male right - also worked to the advantage of the production, boosting the sound out in surround to the O'Reilly theatre, letting the audience in on the playfulness of it all.

The idea employed for the stage design (the production billed as semi-staged) was also simple but effective, director Stefania Panighini seeming to try to encapsulate the production into the period of its composition as the opera is indeed more of its own time than Elizabethan. Playing to the behind the scenes nature of the opera, it however bookended this as a modern day company putting on an 18th century version of the opera, so you could see the cast meeting and greeting, taking a group selfie, the crew making adjustments to sets and costumes during the overture. That might have been taking things to a remove too far, but Panighini didn't over-extend this idea, leaving the work to play to its own strengths. I'm not sure about set designer Tiziano Santi's Rothko backdrops, but the simple sets for each act were also effective and all that was needed to have the pleasure of experiencing another Ambroise Thomas rarity that we might never get the opportunity to see again.

Links: Wexford Festival Opera

Gluck - Alceste (Venice, 2015 - Webcast)

Christoph Willibald Gluck - Alceste

Teatro La Fenice, Venice, 2015

Guillaume Tourniaire, Pier Luigi Pizzi, Carmela Remigio, Marlin Miller, Giorgio Misseri, Zuzana Markova, Vincenzo Nizzardo, Armando Gabba

Culturebox - 24 March 2015
 
You could pretty much guess how a Pier Luigi Pizzi production of Alceste is going to look, but just because it's predictable doesn't mean that it can't also be classy and highly effective. So yes, Pizzi's production of the original 1767 Vienna Italian version of Alceste for La Fenice is indeed all robes, neo-Classical pillars and steps and no, there's absolutely no licence taken with the all-important dramatic presentation. The stage might not really amount to much more than a visually impressive, minimally decorated, classically-styled high-impact set, but it impresses every bit as much as the scale of the Greek tragedy that plays out on it.

If there's a concept to the production here, it's on the same grand scale as the mythology. The theme of Alceste is life and death, and the set is accordingly predominately black and white, even the floor a chessboard design, with a few typically bold colours thrown in for additional impact. Within the set, the drama is also played out in a fairly traditional fashion, which in the context of Gluck's opera seria means that there's lots of anguished writhing, outstretched hands and falling to the floor. There's always the danger of the real human sentiments that lie behind the mythology getting lost in all the bold gestures, but the singing can go some way towards making up for it.

It's Carmela Remigio as Alceste who has to take on the burden of keeping this relatively straightforward drama interesting while there is not a great deal happening. Essentially, amid the mourning and lamenting of the citizens of Thessalia, the drama centres solely on Alceste sacrificing herself so that her dying husband, the king Admeto, will be spared by the Gods. For two and a half hours, essentially, we see her preparing for death and then slowly fading away as the Admeto comes to realise the horror of the deal she has made. We get a little more dramatic action in the French revision of Alceste, when Hercules goes down to Hades to bring the queen back, but here, it's a long drawn out decline that is only reprieved at the last minute by the will of Apollo.

Carmela Remigio voice hasn't the fullness of tone that you would normally associate with this kind of opera seria role, but she does succeed in making it feel every bit as tragic and compelling as it ought to be. It is and needs to be a big enough voice to remain dramatic and lyrical and rise above this fully orchestrated version at La Fenice. The Vienna version is more opera seria than stricter reformist revisions made by Gluck in the French, and Guillaume Tourniaire's conducting of the orchestra lacks the kind of edge you get from a period ensemble. There is a harpsichord in there in the accompanied recitative, but it's certainly softened by the strings. It's to the credit of Remigio then that when combined with the attractiveness of the sets, it never becomes too smoothed out or, heaven forbid, soothing.

You can see how far Remigio takes her performance in her farewell to the world aria (or, the first of them, the moment she decides to sacrifice her own life for her husband, because essentially, it's one long lament thereafter), in the aria 'Non vi turbate, no', which brings tears to her eyes. Pizzi's set, making only slight changes for each of the acts and never straying too far from the classical temple setting, helps establish the mood well here. Alceste wanders out into the forest at night in Act II, a blue tint in the lighting matching the tone, a tree with a pile of skulls capturing the matters of life and death that are to be mulled over. In contrast to Act I, Thereafter, Alceste's robes change from flowing white to constricting black, while her neatly tied up hair is loosened and freed.

There's only so much the remainder of the cast can do to add to the atmosphere, her children sobbing in the embrace of Ismene, as well as delivering a heartfelt lament. The other major contribution here however comes from Marlin Miller's wonderful singing and characterisation of Admeto. Again, the voice isn't a typical opera seria voice and ther recitative singing can sometimes seem a little declamatory, but there's a beautiful heartfelt lyricism here too, a regal dignity in how he deals with the situation, a sincerity in his protestations that he couldn't possibly live if it means that his wife must die in his place. Together, Remigio and Miller really highlight the nature and severity of the dilemma faced by the king and the queen.

This is a beautiful interpretation and a handsome production of Alceste at La Fenice. It's not radical by any means, it doesn't quite give you a sense of how revolutionary Gluck's score was, not in this early Italian version anyway, even though it was here that the composer and his librettist Calzabigi laid out their ideas for the reform of opera in its preface, but - as with Orfeo ed Euridice - it shows what two strong central performances can make of such a work with a solid supporting production behind them.

Links: Culturebox,  Teatro La Fenice