Tchaikovsky - Eugene Onegin (Vienna, 2020)

Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky - Eugene Onegin

Wiener Staatsoper, 2020

Tomáš Hanus, Dmitri Tcherniakov, Liubov Orfenova, Helene Schneiderman,
Nicole Car, Anna Goryachova, Larissa Diadkova, Andrè Schuen, Bogdan Volkov, Dimitry Ivashchenko, Dan Paul Dumitrescu, Mykola Erdyk, Johanna Mertinz

Staatsoper Live - 31 October 2020

The perspective that the present gives us on the past should be one of age and wisdom looking back on the foolish acts of youth, but all to often the view from a comfortable distance is just as untrustworthy, leading us to look back fondly and nostalgically on times that were actually painfully difficult to live through and, for better or worse, character forming. Perspective and the passing of time is very much at the heart of Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin, and that's the focus of Dmitri Tcherniakov's new production for the Vienna State Opera.

Always at his best when directing Russian masterpieces, Dmitri Tcherniakov alerts us to the untrustworthiness of memory and nostalgia right from the outset of this production. There are no peasants and labourers toiling in the fields singing songs that ennoble the nature of working the land. Here in the Vienna production rather we see a large family gathered around a dinner table in a room that is a comforting sea of beige ("a golden dream"), where the guests join in and make fun of Madame Larina's nostalgic reminiscences. The old harvesting songs are also romanticised and sung as a dinner party recital by Tatiana and Olga.

It's a frivolous world, comfortably detached from real world feelings and concerns. Even Lensky's effusive poetry to Olga here seems playful, a fond recognition of the ways of a more innocence age. No doubt the sentiments are genuine, but they are made to look out of place here. Even Madame Larina no longer retains any of the romantic novelistic illusions of her youth. This opening setting proposes diametrically opposed views of the world between the dreamer and the reality, which of course only enforces and emphasises the distance between the impressionable bookish dreamer Tatyana and the aloof, arrogant 'man of the world' Onegin.

Although that delves further into the melancholy of such sentiments expressed in the music than most, it's far from the most original observation to make about Tchaikovsky's masterpiece. The queer interpretation by Krzysztof Warlikowski (Munich 2012), the expansive view of Russian society and culture in Stefan Herheim's production (Amsterdam, 2011), the doubling with dancers in Kasper Holten's production (Royal Opera House, 2013) autumnal moods of light and colour of Robert Carsen (The Met, 2007) all found innovative ways to tap into the many undercurrents that lie within this extraordinary opera. Tcherniakov more recently does seem to rein in indulgences and seem to play a little safer using beige-coloured living-rooms as a way to satirise the middle class, using them as a microcosm of society, but it can still be challenging and appropriate. Here the mood is intensified by the production never leaving the dining room, neither to spend the sleepless night in Tatyana's bedroom, nor even the duel scene.

Evidently then, the more pointed commentary is revealed in other little touches and in the direction of performers, all of them contributing to emphasise the central themes. The utter sincerity of Tatyana's depth of feeling at the conclusion of the letter scene is in heartbreaking contrast to the frivolity of Onegin and all the others around her. It even seems to embody that distinctly paradoxical Russian characteristic of frivolous sincerity and sincere frivolity that lies very much at the heart of the work. Perhaps it's in that character that Tcherniakov dispenses entirely with Monsieur Triquet and instead has Lensky sing the birthday ode to Tatyana (in Russian), the party descending into sheer playful mayhem that is in complete contrast to how Tatyana is feeling. And indeed Lensky.

In this production, it seems that Lensky has an even greater shattering of illusions than Tatyana, or it can certainly seem as such when it is sung and performed with such heartfelt sincerity as it is here by Bogdan Volkov. Lensky's experience proves to be just as critical to the impact and meaning of the work as a whole when it's permitted to be (Warlikowski also for example using the quarrel between him and Onegin as a way of tapping into those deeper sentiments). Here only Tatyana understands how he feels while the others laugh and mock. The duel is no less shocking for taking place in front of all the family and friends in the dining room, reduced to a tussle over a shotgun that accidentally goes off. The impact is every bit as tragic and devastating as it ought to be in the context of this highly charged romantic masterwork.

Considered against Lensky and Tatyana, Onegin is reduced to a mockery in the opera named after him. His return to society in Act III and his self-important tale of his difficult years is met with icy disdain and casual dismissal at the high society function in another elegant dining room, this one a blaze of rich red and formality compared to the easy golden nostalgia of the Larin estate dining room. Onegin finds himself unwelcome, not some tragic romantic figure as he is in Deborah Warner's somewhat misguided 2013 Met production, and certainly not the one he thinks he is. The Russian society here is changed too, now one of ostentatious wealth where outsiders are not made comfortable, detached from their roots and the past.

Tomáš Hanus carried much of Tchaikovsky's romantic melancholy and Russian-ness in his conducting and it was played well; a little bit broad in its sweep I felt, but the music has a lot to cover. Onegin is an inconstant man, difficult to really grasp, particularly when he is played as someone superficial and unsympathetic here. André Schuen never really convinces of any sincerity but that seems to be what Tcherniakov is aiming for here. It's only at the conclusion that he lets go and reveals or becomes aware of his true feelings and expresses everything of the ignominy of a rejected lover. It put one in mind at this time of the level of self-delusion turning to realisation of a populist US President who can't quite believe that he has been rejected by an electorate who used to hang on his every word and tweet. As mentioned earlier, Bogdan Volkov raises Lensky to a new level of importance in this opera with a heartfelt performance that is in complete contrast to Onegin.

The role of Tatyana is a difficult one, needing a singer capable of covering the range of naive youth with a more reflective mature experience. And yet, do we ever really change? Is Tatyana not the same, even after the passing of years? Doesn't she prove to be still capable of making a foolish mistake, still capable of following her heart, following a self-destructive urge and throw caution to the wind. Is she not Russian? No one is immune to such feelings at any age, as Prince Gremlin also testifies in "All men surrender to love's power". Tcherniakov recognises and so does Nicole Car, presenting a consistent vision of the romantic that lies at the heart of anyone who has seen, understood and been moved by the extraordinary beauty and sadness of life through love as its portrayed in Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin.

Links: Vienna State Opera, Wiener Staatsoper Live

Henze - Der Prinz Von Homburg (Stuttgart, 2018)

Hans Werner Henze - Der Prinz Von Homburg

Staatsoper Stuttgart, 2018

Cornelius Meister, Stephan Kimmig, Štefan Margita, Helene Schneiderman, Vera-Lotte Böcker, Robin Adams, Moritz Kallenberg, Michael Ebbecke, Friedemann Röhlig, Johannes Kammler, Ming Jie Lei, Pawel Konik, Michael Nagl, Catriona Smith, Anna Werle, Stine Marie Fischer

Naxos/BelAir - Blu ray

The central theme of Heinrich von Kleist's drama Der Prinz von Homburg is very much tied into late 18th and early 19th century Romantic obsessions with the questions of mortality and heroic sacrifice, where the sentiments of love are often conflated with an attraction to death. Such ideas caused an outbreak of lovers' suicides following the publication of Goethe's The Sorrows of Young Werther in 1774, and indeed Kleist himself would die in a double suicide pact at the age of 34, even before publication of this last play. Der Prinz von Homburg however has a much more complex exploration of an individual mindset setting itself against the prevailing order, providing Hans Werner Henze with fascinating material for an opera that could explore and criticise the conservative nature of post-war Germany in 1960.

"No dream can bring fame and love", the Great Elector of Brandenburg and Duke of Prussia sternly observes early in Ingeborg Bachmann's libretto for Henze's opera, but the Prince of Homburg is one who dares to dream. Or perhaps not so much dares as much as suffers from a condition, somnambulism, where he is unable to easily distinguish dreams from reality. He is prepared however to believe that his dreams are real or can at least indicate a way to change reality and the reality he faces is a troubling one.

Waking from one of his dreams, the Prince discovers that he holds a glove in his hands belonging to Natalie, Princess of Orange. He sees this as a sign of love, an omen, something to strive to make real. His obsession with his dream of Natalie however leads him to be distracted during the discussions of the High Command on tactics for the Battle of Fehrbellin. Still caught up in a semi-dreamlike state, unaware of the orders not to engage with the enemy, he leads his troops into the fray. Despite his heroic actions leading to a tremendous victory however, the Prince is arrested for acting against orders and condemned to death.

As with Kleist's Romantic drama, sentiments of love are conflated with death, the Prince going into battle with only thoughts of Natalie as his prize, seeing victory only through the prism of her love. Even though his actions win the day, the Prince is guilty of following his own heart, acting outside of accepted rules of military command. He neither accepts his death sentence nor his later reprieve however, but chooses to live or die - or exist in some idealistic dream-state between them - according to his own terms. It's the ultimate expression of freedom, an idea that is reworked towards other ends in Henze and Bachmann's libretto, the word 'Freiheit' given extra prominence in this 2018 Stuttgart production directed by Stephan Kimmig.

In his notes included in the DVD booklet, the director identifies where Henze's own personal circumstances fit an identification with the Prince of Homburg. Reportedly conscripted into the military by his Nazi supporting father during the war, finding the experience of following orders, rules and protocols deeply troubling, Henze could relate to the wider implications of Kleist's play. An extraordinary, intriguing and deeply fascinating psychological exploration of an individual mindset that refuses to abide by strict or authoritarian rules of social conformity that bear no relation to their personal situation, it's a work that deserves to be allowed to exist in a context outside of the ideal of war heroism or indeed a Romantic notion of love and death being connected.

Kimmig's production for Stuttgart is consequently non-representational, seeking rather to find a more abstract or symbolic truthful presentation of the underlying psychology, conditions and situations. That means that it makes sense on some level, even if it is not that easy to decode. The set is dressed to look like an abattoir or an old-fashioned gymnasium (or death camp) shower without any water taps. Here the soldiers and even the Elector do ballet barre exercises wearing tracksuit bottoms and white vests. The soldiers smear blood on in readiness for battle and, rather than mount horses on the orders of the Commander who brandishes a samurai sword, they line up at a long white table.

Although the setting is unfamiliar, it's an attempt to highlight the actions and the underlying complex psychology through other means. Nathalie's glove, for example, is a boxing glove, and there seems to be a struggle of sorts between the Prince of Homburg and the Princess of Orange over their love - whether she might be forced into a more favourable alliance arranged for her - and over the battleground of their love being caught in a state between love and death. There's an interesting and effective use of an identical life-size projection of the Prince on the curtain that suggests a shadow self, a dream self.

Seeking above all to make the drama work on a level that serves the purposes of Henze's adaptation, it's a highly suggestive means to create an unsettling or nightmarish vision rather than a reality. Or, it might even be seen as intermediate conflation of the two since this is indeed the level Prince's dream-like detachment works on, the proximity of certain death by execution pushing the mind even further into a heightened state comparable to the raptures of impossible love.

It has to be said that Henze captures the sense of heightened states in the music brilliantly and without any glorification, either of the notion of heroism or indeed Romantic idealism. Mentions of the Fatherland and glory provoke ominous thunderous chords and loud percussion in a musical performance of great lyrical and dramatic intensity that is superbly managed under the conductor, Cornelius Meister. It's dramatically attuned to hold a suspended tension and fear, with occasional wandering off into the disturbed and dreamlike paths of the Prince's "black world of shadows".

Henze's musical interpretation of Heinrich von Kleist's tense, haunting and enigmatic drama is utterly fascinating and gripping. Whether the direction of the drama and its obscure imagery is to one's taste or not, it does succeed nonetheless in fully conveying all the power and suggestion of the work. So too do the hugely impressive and uniformly excellent cast, with outstanding performances notably from Vera-Lotte Böcker as Natalie and Robin Adams as the Prince.

The 2018 Stuttgart production of Der Prinz von Homburg is presented in High Definition on a fine Blu-ray release from Naxos/BelAir. The image is clear and well-defined, the musical performance powerful and dynamic in its lossless PCM stereo soundtrack (there is no additional DTS surround track on this release). The BD is dual-layer BD50 and all region A/B/C compatible. Subtitles are in German, English, Japanese and Korean.There are no extra features, but a synopsis and tracklisting are provided along with a comprehensive exploration of Henze's intentions in the booklet essay by the director Stephan Kimmig.

Links: Staatsoper Stuttgart

Monteverdi - Orpheus/Odysseus/Poppea (Komische Berlin, 2014 - Blu-ray)

Claudio Monteverdi - Orpheus/Odysseus/Poppea

Komische Oper, Berlin - 2014

André de Ridder, Barrie Kosky, Dominik Köninger, Julia Novikova, Peter Renz, Günter Papendell, Ezgi Kutlu, Tansel Akzeybek, Brigitte Geller, Roger Smeets, Helene Schneiderman

Arthaus Musk - Blu-ray

Barrie Kosky's work is becoming more widely known in the UK from colourful, fresh and not entirely controversy-free productions of mainly Baroque opera at the ENO (Rameau's Castor and Pollux), Glyndebourne (Handel's Saul) and Edinburgh (Mozart's The Magic Flute), but the Australian director is also the artistic director at the Komische Oper in Berlin, the city's German language opera company. You can expect then that his Monteverdi Trilogy (L'Orfeo, Il Ritorno d'Ulisse in Patria and L'Incoronazione di Poppea the composer's only existing complete operas) is going to be very different from any other versions of some of opera's earliest and greatest compositions. You don't know the half of it...

It's the Komische, so even Monteverdi is subjected to the German language treatment. That might sound strange to the ears were the works performed in an historically-informed way on period instruments, but remarkably the musical interpretation is just as "translated" here. While the melodic line and continuo is followed in as far as Monteverdi variously scored it for these works with theorbo and bass viol, Elena Kats-Chemin has introduced new instrumentation for all three works, including an accordion, a banjo and an electric guitar as well as a range of exotic instruments like the djoza from Iran, a West African kora (bridge-harp) and a Syrian oud (lute).

The familiar melodies and rhythmic structure is there, but less rigidly adhered to, blending into a much richer texture of plucked and hammered sounds that actually give a real kick to the arrangements. It's not just the colour of the instruments that is used either, but the melody can stray into a tango, into German jazz, Slavic folk, klezmer or ragtime swing. It might sound outrageous, but it gets across the wide dynamic of the tones within and across these works and is always appropriate to the context. What is also fascinating is hearing those instruments play baroque music and discovering the connections the various styles have with one another. It's as if they can all be ultimately traced back to Monteverdi, and I suppose in a way they can.

Needless to say, Barrie Kosky revels in the opportunities to match the colour and playful nature of the music with vividly bright, colourful productions that are inventive in situation on a busy stage that is usually a riot of dance and movement. Musically and in terms of staging, reflecting the director's concept of the loss and ultimate destruction of the Arcadian ideal across the three works, the trilogy is at its most elaborate in Orpheus (L'Orfeo). This would be appropriate for a work that spans such a wide range of human experiences and emotions, from joyful celebration to mournful despair and the determination of Orpheus not to be defeated by the cruel war constantly waged between the Gods subjecting mankind to the whims of Time, Love, Fate and Chance.

Kosky's production then strongly marks the contrast between Paradise and Hell, illustrating the endeavours of Orpheus and the power of human art and ingenuity to celebrate love and beauty in the face of outrageous fortune. The stage is filled with movement, with dancers and life-size puppets, but it works in a complementary way with the nature of the subject and with the unconventional musical interpretation conducted here by André de Ridder. As the most adventurous of the three stagings, it works marvellously, allowing the German language performance to fit in well with the celebration of life in all its richness and colour. The singing performances by Dominik Köninger as Orpheus, Julia Novikova as Eurydice and Peter Renz as Amor, no doubt help make that work as well with the sheer lyrical beauty of the voices.

The rather more austere staging for Odysseus (Il Ritorno d'Ulisse in Patria) doesn't significantly alter the impact that is achieved by the richness of the work itself. Accordingly, the music has the same kind of musical reinterpretation but with a different colour from that of Orpheus. Turkish melodies and rhythms infuse Poppea's lament and other imaginative musical flourishes on a grand piano are inserted in those Monteverdean short bursts of melody in the middle of recitative. The scene of the three suitors characterises their claims with a tango rhythm or a burst of a Habanera. Again without destroying the composer's structure, this is very much in the spirit of improvisation and interpretation that are a vital element to the make-up of Monteverdi's operas, the singing voices taking up the main expression of emotions. Ezgi Kutlu in particular impresses here as Poppea, but Günter Papendell's Odysseus and Tansel Akzeybek's Telemachus are also very strong.

In terms of the advancing the concept of the staging, one of the main factors that establishes the tone of the work is of course the Prelude. In Odysseus, Time, Fortune and Love make fools of the activities of men and the purpose of Odysseus. The expedition to Troy and the war that ensued has led to Odysseus blown off course for 20 years. Arcadia has been lost, Odysseus is wandering, longing for a return to peace in his homeland, with his family and loved ones, and it is also causing Penelope great torment. The 'patria' here then is nothing more then than the green, green grass of home, a mostly bare platform with the orchestra behind the performers. The period is kind of late-60s/early-70s, the suitors looking particularly sleazy as if they've just spilled out of a bar hoping to pick up a wealthy widow, but the tone at the same time colourfully evokes nostalgia for old-fashioned ways.

The set is also minimally dressed for Poppea (L'Incoronazione di Poppea), but this is more than compensated for by the colour, movement and stage directions that extend out beyond the orchestra pit on a wide platform. Disappointingly however, having got quite used to it in the other two works, the musical reinterpretation is less evident here, despite L'incoronazione di Poppea being a work that has a wide range of emotional colour and variety of situation. A little bit of electric guitar makes fitful appearances, and banjos are used to bring a little more of an edge to the basso continuo. Somehow however, despite the fact that great care has been take to establish a distinct sound world to each of the works, it isn't until quite late in the piece that the instrumentation finds the kind of rhythmic pulse that should drive the work.

Barrie Kosky however is not short of ways to use the singers, dancers and supernumerary sprites to push the expressions of all the violent and lustful passions in Poppea into the movement and exhibition of the body. There is a considerable amount of full-frontal nudity here, mostly male, none of which is the least bit erotic. Amor - a vital character to all three works (sung in each by Peter Renz) - is a constant presence here, but again taking its lead from the prelude, Love might be dominant, but Virtue has been defeated and Arcadia destroyed. Poppea takes place consequently on the side of a volcano, grey, with large boulders littering the landscape. The contrast between Nero and Poppea's violent love and the monstrousness of their actions towards others is depicted in all its horror, and matched by the intense singing. All of the performers are simply outstanding here, but I particularly liked Helene Schneiderman's unrepentantly vengeful Octavia.

The quality of the visual aspect of each of the Blu-ray discs is fine, but there is a little bit of haziness to the image with some minor blurring in movement that is not as clinically sharp as most HD releases. On Orpheus and Odysseus, there is a kind of yellowish tint with gives a warmer tone. These characteristics are less evident on Poppea, which also seems sharper. The singing sounds a little amplified which might be down to the use of radio mics, although they are not obviously worn by the performers, and the mixing is not quite as bright as you might find on recordings of baroque music. It's warmly toned if you like, and comes over well on the DTS HD-Master Audio 5.1 and PCM stereo mixes, but best of all on headphones. Subtitles are in German, English, French and Turkish. There are no extra feaures on the discs, but there are synopses and a great deal of information on the production in the large booklet that comes with the box set.

Verdi - La Traviata (Salzburg, 2005)

Giuseppe Verdi - La Traviata

Salzburg Festival, 2005

Carlo Rizzi, Willy Decker, Anna Netrebko, Rolando Villazón, Thomas Hampson, Helene Schneiderman, Paul Gay, Diane Pilcher

Deutsche Grammaphon - DVD

Verdi’s La Traviata is certainly one of the world’s most famous operas, perhaps because, like La Bohême, Madama Butterfly and Carmen, it has all the dramatic elements that one associates with opera – a romantic affair that is too passionate or ill-matched to be sustained and a fallen woman who is destined to succumb to a tragic and untimely death. Adapted from a novel by Alexandre Dumas (‘La Dame aux Camelias’), based on a real life lover of his, Marie Duplessis, La Traviata also benefits from having the whiff of scandal about it (the title itself literally means, ‘The Fallen Woman’, suggesting ‘The Prostitute’). However, the real reason for its continued popularity must be down to two things – the timeless nature of its romantic subject matter and the sheer strength and character of some of the finest arias and music ever composed for opera.

Although there would scarcely be any courtesans around today as there would have been in 1840’s Paris, the subject matter of La Traviata is still universally recognisable. Violetta Valery is a scandalous, but glamorous woman, a celebrated Parisian courtesan who has known many lovers in her time, but never true love. She longs for acceptance into noble society, but her past haunts her – to such an extent that even when she does find a man who truly loves her, she finds she must give him up to protect his family from scandal. Slowly dying from consumption, she knows she must also spare him the ravages of her illness and tragically gives up her chance for love and respectability. The contemporariness of the emotional content and celebrity lifestyles also allows the opera to be imaginatively and inventively restaged. It is just such a modern updating of the story that was presented by Willy Decker for the 2005 Salzburger Festspiele, conducted by Carlo Rizzi with Anna Netrebko in the role of Violetta, and Rolando Villazón in the role of Alfredo.

The dramatic staging is initially very striking – the set design minimalist, yet thoroughly effective at conveying the tone and emotional pitch of the story. Verdi’s beautifully melancholic preludio is played out over a vast crescent shaped backdrop, adorned only by a large clock marking out the passing of time, Violetta to one side of the stage symbolically trying to escape the mysterious figure at the other end – The Doctor, a premonition of her approaching death, who nevertheless reaches her and passes her a single white camellia. Snapped out of her reverie, her weariness and disillusionment with the course of her life Violetta must fall back into the role of entertainer expected from her, as the guests from the party rush in – “I put my faith in pleasure, as a cure for all my ills”. The scene is brilliantly and colourfully staged to evoke a contemporary celebrity who fits the modern-day courtesan role-model equally well - Marilyn Monroe singing 'Diamonds Are A Girl’s Best Friend' (or Madonna singing 'Material Girl' if you prefer).

These are bold strokes to be sure, but accurate and evocative. While there isn't quite anything else to match this fine and innovative opening act, the hard work has already been done, perfectly establishing the tone and content of what is to follow. Maintaining the minimalist staging Willy Decker then focuses on keeping the already concise and lean storyline (at only two hours long it’s rather nippy for an opera) moving along even through what can be dry, prosaic monologues by using some imaginative, unconventional and quite powerfully dynamic stage direction and performances. This is to say little of the opera itself, which has a great many delights, from Francesco Maria Piave’s incisive libretto to Verdi’s efficient yet brilliant score which is perfectly balanced in terms of light and shade, hitting the most effervescent of joys (the famous Brindisi and "Sempre libera") and the most lyrical of romantic arias ("Un di felice, eterea"), as well as the most bitter cruelty ("Ogni suo aver tal femmina") and the most tragic of death sequences ("Addio del passato"). The opera even manages to showcase an invigorating cabaret sequence and matador ballet that is a little incongruous to the dramatic unfolding of the story (although imaginatively staged here with Alfredo as the unfortunate bull), but emphasises the gulf between Violetta’s life of unbridled pleasure and the tragic circumstances to follow.

The production is also graced with two fine and compelling lead performances from the current “dream couple” teaming of Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazón. Individually, they are both superb, Villazón particularly impassioned as Alfredo Germont. Unlike most readings of the role that I have seen, he is no impetuous, jealous young lover, weakly bowing down to his domineering father. Villazón’s Alfredo is ferociously single-minded in his passion, who fights all the way but cannot win, since it is Violetta herself who makes the final break for his sake. The young Russian soprano Netrebko is also technically flawless and really quite stunning in a role that is very demanding both dramatically and vocally. Although rather young to be playing an aging courtesan, she brings great character to the role – partly as I’ve indicated, through the clever staging, which presents her in a modern-day Marilyn Monroe role, but mainly through the impressive tone and range of her extraordinarily pure voice. Even with all this, I don’t think the opera would work quite as well if it didn’t have a strong, commanding presence from Alfredo’s father, and Thomas Hampson gives just that, adding the necessary baritone vocal weight and dramaturgical counterbalance.

DVD
This recording of La Traviata is released in the UK by Deutsche Grammaphon. The DVD, manufactured for international release is in NTSC format and is not region-encoded. It is available in a standard single-disc edition as well as a 2-disc Premium Edition, containing a number of extra features on the second disc. The Premium Edition is presented in a fold-out digipack and includes a booklet, which documents the event that was La Traviata at the 2005 Salzburg Festival, also providing a scene-by-scene synopsis and track-by-track listing. The booklet is in English, German and French.

Video
The opera is presented in 16:9 anamorphic widescreen. Filmed live for television broadcast, probably in High Definition Digital Video, it therefore is flawless in respect of any analogue marks or damage and inevitably looks very impressive. With the minimalist staging of the opera and the big bold expanses of colour, any digital flaws in the transfer would be readily apparent, yet there is scarcely a flicker or even a hint of any macro-blocking compression artefacts to be detected, nor aliasing or stepping in diagonal lines. The image is slightly soft, perhaps on account of the amount of red and blue lighting, but this only serves to take the edge of the overly clinical look of the image, which during brightly lit scenes has a disconcertingly immediate and lifelike presence. Colours and blacks are all reasonably well defined, with only a touch of blue line bleed and edge enhancement visible in some scenes. The only real issue that prevents the image from being quite perfect is some slight movement blurring.

Audio
Dispensing with Dolby Digital mixes, the opera is presented with a choice of higher quality DTS 5.1 and PCM Stereo options. The DTS mix is strong, clear and warmly toned, showing no obvious distortion or difficulties with reaching the highest notes and loudest of chorus singing. It does tend to slightly flatten out at higher levels and lose something in the higher dynamic range, but it copes with this with a pleasant rounded clarity. There is also a certain “airiness” in some passages, but this is nothing more than you would expect from the use of stage microphones recording a live performance. This is really as good as it gets. The PCM Stereo mix handles these issues a little more cleanly and accurately, but not by any great margin. The surround-sound for the DTS track is well mixed, singing being resolutely centre channel for individual voices, with choruses opening out slightly across the front channels for a quite effective wider dispersal of the sound. The orchestration is discretely mixed around all channels, often seemingly floating and filling the room from no direct source, which perhaps doesn’t give enough colour and detail to the individual sections of the orchestra. They are however brought forward and well placed towards the front for the major arias, complementing the centre channel singing, yet allowing it to remain distinct and clearly audible. Audience noise is similarly well dispersed, but tending towards the rear speakers.
As I noted above, the PCM Stereo mix is marginally clearer, stronger and more accurate in tone, but the enveloping DTS mix has a warmer, in-the-theatre sound and is probably the better option.

Subtitles
Optional English subtitles are provided and are slightly on the large and bold side. I’m always happy to see the original libretto provided on opera DVDs, and this is here on the Italian option. German, French, Spanish and Chinese options are also included.

Extras
Documentary: Behind The Scenes – The Rehearsals for La Traviata (43:58)
As the latest “dream couple”, the young performers are aware of the pressures on them to deliver, but seem to be completely at ease with their talent, having a great deal of fun during the rehearsals - Villazón in particular is irrepressible - but they are completely professional when it comes to performing, putting heart and soul into their preparations. With lots of interviews with cast and crew (although strangely mostly ignoring the conductor and the orchestra's rehearsals), this is a very insightful film into the process of putting a production like this together.

Introduction by Rolando Villazón (3:03)
Assuming the role of Alfredo, Villazón, speaking in German, gives a synopsis of the whole opera, doubtlessly recorded to introduce the acts to the TV audience.

Picture Gallery (2:17)
A selection of stills are played in a slideshow to the Brindisi.

A Netrebko Discography
Cover illustrations for Anna Netrebko's CD and DVD recordings for Deutsche Grammaphon.

Trailer: Anna Netrebko “The Woman – The Voice” (10:56)
A sample of the DVD is shown here and what I could see of it looked interesting, the director making promo-style videos for the soprano's performances. However, playback problems on my copy of the DVD prevented me from watching this in full.

Overall
Mainly delving through their back-catalogue for classic opera performances, Deutsche Grammaphon have perhaps lost a lot of ground to the likes of Arthaus and TDK when it comes to presenting new recordings of opera on DVD. Scooping the acclaimed 2005 Salzburger Festspiele production of La Traviata with the rising talents of Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazón is a bit of a coup however and DG gives it the royal treatment it richly deserves in their 2-disc Premium Edition, superbly directed for television, as ever, by Brian Large. Not too many people were fortunate or rich enough to meet the extraordinary prices being asked for tickets at the original performance of this production at the Salzberg Festival, so we are fortunate enough to now be able to share in the experience and the buzz of this world-class opera production, and see it presented so well.

This review was first published in DVD Times/The Digital Fix in 2005