Claude Debussy - Pelléas et Mélisande
English Touring Opera, 2015
Jonathan Berman, Annelies van Parys, James Conway, Jonathan McGovern, Susanna Hurrell, Stephan Loges, Michael Druiett, Helen Johnson, Lauren Zolezzi
English Touring Opera, Buxton - 16 October 2015
Trying to pin down the symbolism and floating musical ambiguity of Pelléas et Mélisande to any one meaning or interpretation would seem to be a pointless exercise, yet it's a choice that any director who stages the work has to make. Even if one particular interpretation is settled on or a single theme is drawn upon, the work tends to remain elusive and take on an unintended meaning and mysterious direction of its own. If Pelléas et Mélisande can be pinned down to just one broad theme however, it's the one that James Conway develops here in the English Touring Opera's 2015 production in its most abstract form. It's all about love.
That's a strong theme, particularly when it's explored in terms of love inspired by unspeakable passions that drives one to unimaginable actions, and it links in well with the two other very different French operas in the ETO's Autumn 2015 touring programme, Tales of Hoffmann and Werther. The nature of that overpowering love is extreme in all of those works, but in the symbolic nature of Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande it can be seen as all-encompassing. The sea, a fountain, water, a ship a cavern, a rock, a tower, a ring, a crown - all of these things can be used to express different facets and aspects of that single theme of love in all its manifestations and the feelings associated with it.
James Conway takes a holistic approach to the work, its themes, its symbols, its characters, its music and its language in a way that supports this theme as well as brings out the other more ambiguous and indefinable qualities of the work that can't quite be expressed in words. The words are suggestive but the intentions are hidden or kept suppressed, particularly in regard to the feelings that Pelléas and Mélisande have for each other, but directorial choices can be imposed on the reading of them. Conway doesn't attempt anything too radical, adopting a position certainly, but crucially allowing some of the ambiguity to remain.
Mélisande is, or appears to be, a total innocent here, but also a figure who has a hidden past that may prevent her from being totally open to her own feelings. Pelléas however knows that the games they play have more of an illicit edge, hesitatingly drawn by her mysterious allure but ultimately unable to resist. Whether he really believes them to be playing what he angrily and dismissively calls a 'jeux d'enfants', Golaud undoubtedly reads too much into it, his suspicions and jealousy fuelled by his own imagination. The key to establishing this or any interpretation successfully is in how it is projected onto the outside world.
The ETO's staging is uncomplicated and open to the symbolism of the drama, contrasting the interiors and exteriors of the castle with the internal emotional world of the characters and their external manifestations. A recessed room behind a gauze screen separates the formal superficial exchanges in the castle of Allemonde from the rather more abstract uncertainties of the mysterious light and colour of the world outside. The only real licence that Conway's production takes with the symbolism is what looks like an overturned filing cabinet that holds all those mysteries buried within it. What spills out of it in terms of where love takes us, is Golaud's inner world, his disturbed mentality coming to dominate and extend out into the world to colour everything else.
With regard to what is unexpressed and inexpressible, much of the mystery and ambiguity in Pelléas et Mélisande and everything that binds it together can be found in Debussy's musical score. Flitting between the worlds of the characters is difficult enough, but it can be hugely rewarding when it integrates and binds itself to the music. The musical interpretation can open up other levels, tones and suggestion far beyond what the words say and even what the actions show, and that is wholly the case here. Arranged by Annelies van Parys for a small chamber-sized orchestra, Debussy's score is still a thing of wonder, depth and mystery, and it's brought out wonderfully under the baton of Jonathan Berman.
The arrangement is familiar but the lightness of the touch dispels the more Wagnerian influences and highlights the power of the notes and the melodies themselves to mark the changes of mood. The tone slips between wonder, anger, sadness, melancholy, and allows them to co-exist. There are one or two minor adjustments, including the use of dialogue cut from the performing edition of the work, reinstated here unaccompanied to excellent effect. The use and flow of the French language is essential here too, and it was delivered with great clarity of diction and appropriate interpretation by all the performers.
Stephan Loges made the greatest impression as Golaud in a production that assumed his outlook as the dominant one, but Jonathan McGovern and Susanna Hurrell's softer, lyrical voices were also ideally suited to the personalities of Pelléas and Mélisande. Helen Johnson's fine singing made sure that the contribution of Geneviève also has relevance to the work as a whole, and Michael Druiett was suitably grave as the preoccupied Arkel, if not quite sonorous enough in the bass register. Yniold was sung wonderfully by Lauren Zolezzi, who also made a real contribution as Sophie in the ETO's Werther on this tour.
Links: English Touring Opera
Gaetano Donizetti - L'assedio di Calais
English Touring Opera, 2015
Jeremy Silver, James Conway, Craig Smith, Paula Sides, Catherine Carby, Matthew Stiff, Andrew Glover, Ronan Busfield, Matt RJ Ward, Jan Capinski, Peter Braithwaite, Nicholas Merrywether
Armel Opera Festival, ARTE Concert - 29 June 2015
One of the rarer works in the Donizetti catalogue but certainly not a lesser one, L'assedio di Calais (The Siege of Calais) was written to appeal to the Paris Opera and has certain Grand Opera characteristics that set it apart from most of the composer's other works. The opera didn't reach Paris, although Donizetti would have success there later with Les Martyrs and La Favorite, L'assedio di Calais opening instead at the Teatro San Carlo in Naples in 1836. Despite its undoubted qualities, the work still had some problems that Donizetti himself was displeased with, but even though it was later revised down from three acts to two, L'assedio di Calais soon vanished and wasn't performed after 1840.
Reviving this rare work, the English Touring Opera then wisely opted for the two-act version of L'assedio di Calais which has some of the dropped third act elements worked in. James Conway's production was well received when it toured the UK in 2013 and it was revived in 2015 and selected as one of the productions for this year's 2015 Armel Opera Festival competition. The work was acclaimed for its music in the first two acts, and based on this performance, rightly so. Donizetti's music is characteristically melodic, but additionally concise and dramatic here, the usual jauntiness of the composer's rhythms taking on a more sober, sombre tone in accordance with its subject.
The action takes place in 1346, at the beginning of the Hundred Years War. At the beginning of the revised opera, the English soldiers led by King Edward III (Edoardo), are becoming frustrated with their siege of the city of Calais. The city however is close to breaking point. The mayor Eustachio is deeply concerned for the citizens of Calais as well as for the fate of his own son Aurelio who is believed lost in an incursion against the English. Aurelio's wife Eleonora, joins him in a lament (beautifully sung by Craig Smith and Paula Sides) that turns to joy when news comes that Aurelio is alive.
Their joy is short-lived. "Let us not get caught up in sentimentality", Aurelio tells his loved ones after a brief moment of reunion, and Donizetti doesn't indulge on that front either. Neither really has time for it, as the citizens of Calais, fearful and starving, confront the mayor, blaming him for a situation that they have been led to believe could have been peacefully resolved. Eustachio however points out that the ringleader of the protests is none other than an Englishman in disguise trying to undermine their resolve, and the town react violently against the imposter.
The opening of The Siege of Calais is incredibly intense, with fervent singing that has all the necessary drive and expression to match the dire situation of the besieged city. There is inevitably a lot of patriotic fervour, and according to the ETO one of the main themes of the work is where the duty of a citizen lies, but beneath it all is a strong humanitarian sentiment that shines through. Not only is it clearly there in the music, but as is often the case with Donizetti, the writing for the singers allows the depth of feeling to be fully expressed. Even the structure and development of the drama reflects this, the expressions of fear, anxiety and despair invariably turning into hope, strength and determination.
The humanitarian crisis is also the focus of James Conway's dark, gritty, oppressive production. The setting is not period, but non-specific modern dress of an embattled nation of people, all of them dressed in dull rags and overcoats, sporting wounds and looking beaten-down. Conway's notes that the look is referenced from imagery from the bombardment of Stalingrad in WWII, but it captures something that is recognisable to anyone who watches the news. The questions facing a suffering people, the choices they have to make are what L'assedio di Calais is all about, and the ETO's production design reaches right out to those ideas much more meaningfully than a distant middle-ages conflict.
The tone darkens even further in Act II, beginning with Aurelio dreaming of his son and family slaughtered, and it doesn't get any better from there. The English have agreed to withdraw their siege of the town, but there's a price to be paid; six hostages must be handed over for execution. In line with the sentiments, the musical scoring goes to the kind of dark places that remind one of what Verdi would do later, but it's impressive to hear it in Donizetti. There's a little bit of jingoism in the sentiments as the men step forward to save their city - "By a cruel twist of fate we are victims, but we are still French!", they may proclaim, but the fire that lights their anger comes from a deeper place.
Links: ARTE Concert, English Touring Opera
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - La Clemenza di Tito
English Touring Opera
Richard Lewis, James Conway, Mark Wilde, Gillian Ramm, Rhona McKail, Julia Riley, Charlotte Stephenson, Philip Spendley
Grand Opera House, Belfast - May 28, 2011
Despite its position among Mozart’s compositions, his penultimate opera La Clemenza di Tito
has never had the same reputation or attention given to the Mozart and
Da Ponte operas that preceded it, nor has it been as highly regarded as
the other final works written around the same time – the Requiem and Die Zauberflöte (The Magic Flute).
Part of the reason for the opera’s neglect has been due to the history
of its composition – it was commissioned for the coronation of the
Hapsburg emperor Leopold II in 1791 – and the fact that it accordingly
has a rather dry historical subject, performed moreover in the opera seria
style that what was rather old-fashioned even then. While the rather
dry and serious nature of the drama wasn’t entirely overcome in the
English Touring Opera’s staging for their Spring 2011 tour, La Clemenza di Tito is nonetheless a late Mozart work, which means Mozart in his prime.
Perhaps not unexpectedly for Mozart, La Clemenza di Tito is a little bit more than a typical opera seria,
where the action is usually limited to plot developments that take
place during the dry recitative (ie. spoken dialogue), which is then
meditated upon in flowery terms through long repetitive da capo
arias. The problem with this is that the plot can tend to become quite
complicated and, since it is mostly delivered through dialogue than
action or acting, difficult to follow. There are certainly complications
in the plot of La Clemenza di Tito, which deals with the
history of the Roman Emperor Titus Vespasianus in 78AD, where the usual
operatic love complications of trying to match up couples takes on a
rather more serious aspect of political manoeuvring – but the plot – the
text derived from an old Metastasio libretto that had been used many
times – has been stripped back of superfluous subplots (not to mention
numerous long arias), and any remaining complications are made rather
more easy to follow through Mozart’s sympathetic consideration of the
characters through his beautiful musical arrangements.
Principally however, the
complications that arise in the plot all serve the purpose of the nature
of the commission for the coronation of Leopold II, which is to show
how a noble ruler should behave in the face of challenges, exercising
compassion and understanding and putting his people’s interests before
his own. In La Clemenza di Tito, those qualities have to be
exercised by Titus immediately upon being appointed ruler, the previous
despot Vitellius having just been overthrown. Aware that his consort
Berenice, a Judean, is unlikely to be welcomed as his mistress, Titus
sends her away and chooses to marry Servilla, the sister of his friend
and comrade Sextus. Vitellia is furious at the news, as she expected to
be chosen to rule alongside Titus, and she urges Sextus, who is in love
with her, to stir up a rebellion against the new leader. When Titus
finds out that Servilla is already betrothed to Annius, a friend of
Sextus, he reconsiders and agrees to marry Vitellia, but an insurrection
against Titus has already started that will require all his diplomacy
and clemency to resolve.
Part of the difficulty with engaging with La Clemenza di Tito
is that it is difficult to relate to the principal character of the
opera. Titus, although he is certainly conflicted by the choices he has
to make, and contemplates them in some very beautiful arias, does
however feel more of a symbol or a model of virtue and never comes to
life as a real person. As the director of the English Touring Opera’s
production James Conway notes however in the programme notes “You know you can love La Clemenza di Tito if you love Sextus”,
and there is some truth in this. Despite the title of the opera, it’s
not Titus who in many ways is not the principal character but Sextus,
and it’s the conflicts and decisions that put him in opposition to his
friend and ruler that the listener needs to relate to in order for the
opera to have deeper meaning. If we are to go along with that
proposition, the opera needs a strong singer in the role of Sextus (a
tricky proposition since it is male soprano role often sung, as here, by
a female), and that is indeed marvellously achieved here in a terrific
performance by Julia Riley.
This is an interesting
proposition from the ETO, and placing the emphasis this way on Sextus
certainly presents an alternative way of looking at the opera, but I am
not entirely convinced that it is enough. Titus is a difficult character
to relate to, but he can be made more sympathetic with the right singer
(I’ve seen the role extremely well performed in a production at the
Paris Opera some time ago), and although Mark Wilde sings well here and
is appropriately soft-toned lyrical tenor for a thoughtful, considerate
ruler, it’s not sufficient to convey the depth of the nature of the
personal conflicts he undergoes nor the nobility and wisdom that he
shows in the decisions towards the clemency that he exercises at the
close of the drama. With minimal staging and a lack of dramatic action,
there wasn’t any other way of making these feelings apparent, and the
opera did indeed often feel like its reputation as a dry, difficult and
overly-earnest work was merited. The English Touring Opera’s production,
resting on the strengths of Sextus with Julia Riley in the role, did
however present an interesting view on an opera that certainly merits
being brought to a wider audience and that is certainly preferable to
another new production of The Marriage of Figaro or Così Fan Tutte.
Giacomo Puccini - Il Tabarro & Gianni Schicchi
English Touring Opera
Michael
Rosewell, James Conway. Liam Steel, Simon Thorpe, Julie Unwin, Charne
Rochford, Richard Mosley-Evans, Paula Sides, Clarissa Meek, Ashley
Catling, Andrew Glover, Jacqueline Varsey
Grand Opera House, Belfast - May 26, 2011
Right up to the end of his
career, Puccini never allowed himself to be constrained by the
limitations of traditional opera subjects or indeed the limitations of
the verismo school - even though he often used literature for a source,
Puccini would also draw from popular theatre and tackle contemporary
subjects. Latter Puccini, for example, takes in the clash of tradition
and modernity in Madama Butterfly, while La Fanciulla del West,
set in the American Wild West, also sees the composer acknowledging the
influence of Wagner and a new approach to musical composition for
drama. His last completed work (Turandot was finished and produced posthumously), Il Trittico (1918), being composed of three short one-act operas – Il Tabarro, Suor Angelica and Gianni Schicchi
– is in many ways a summary and consolidation of his work and themes
across a range of subjects, as well as a further extension of what is
possible within the operatic medium.
While there are benefits in seeing all three parts of Il Trittico
performed one after another for the rich thematic and musical journey
that they cover as a complementary set, each of the one-act operas
stands alone, and each have very different themes and musical treatments
and they are more commonly performed either a duo or singly in
conjunction with another one-act opera by a different composer. All of
these are valid ways of performing the operas, and it’s often in such
double-bills that certain different qualities are highlighted. The
English Touring Opera’s Spring 2011 programme pairs two of the operas
from Il Trittico – Il Tabarro and Gianni Schicchi –
that present an interesting contrast in styles, but which together
demonstrate the range and ability of Puccini at the end of his career.
Il Tabarro (The Cloak) is based on a play by Didier Gold, 'La houpperlande',
that Puccini saw in Paris in 1913. Set in the docklands on the banks of
the Seine at the outskirts of Paris, there are certain similarities
with Puccini’s other wonderful Parisian opera La Bohème in the
opening scenes, where the crew of Michele and Giorgetta’s barge
celebrate the unloading of their cargo with a drink and some dancing,
disguising the fact temporarily that the times are hard and that tough
decisions need to be made about how to continue. Set against the poverty
of their situation, Frugola the wife of one of the crew Talpa who is to
be laid off, still has dreams of owning a cottage in the country, while
Giorgetta would love to just settle down in Paris. It’s a dream that is
shared by another of the crew Luigi, who has been having a secret
affair with Giorgetta. The loss of their young baby, the sense of a
family that Michele would wrap within his cloak, has created a distance
between the husband and wife, but also stirred dark passions.
Il Tabarro has all the
elements for a romantic melodrama that is to end in violence and
tragedy, but what is remarkable about the piece is that, even
compressing its story into under an hour, it never manipulates the
emotions quite in the same way as La Bohème, nor does it
overstate through sweeping strings and overwrought arias. The Wagner
influence is there in that the drama is allowed to flow without stopping
for interludes, conventional arias or extraneous detail, but it’s still
pure Puccini in terms of melody. While still adhering to the dramatic
plot, Puccini is still able to capture the colour and flavour of Paris
in the musical character, which does recall La Bohème, not least
in a cheeky reference to Mimi. Even that however – the coming of spring,
the hope of a new beginning – is pertinent to the drama. The touches
are smaller, more subtle – a lighted candle, a lover’s encounter above –
but masterfully arranged and orchestrated so that they have all the
impact of a full-scale opera without the overstatement.
The English Touring Opera’s set
design and direction by James Conway was similarly subtle but fully
effective, evoking mood, using two levels to show the world on the docks
and hints of the world above that reflects and contrasts the situation
of the barge owner and his crew. It kept the focus fixed on the
relationship between the characters within this intense and highly
concentrated drama with gripping performances from the main cast, Simon
Thorpe a dark imposing Michele, Julie Unwin a beautifully toned
Giorgetta and Charne Rocheford a passionate Luigi, although his voice
was occasionally overwhelmed by the orchestra.
Gianni Schicchi was inspired by a figure who appears in Dante’s Inferno,
whose sin was to “dress himself up as Buoso Donati” to “draw up and
sign his will”. Here, Puccini depicts him as a lawyer that the odious
Donati family, faking their tears at the deathbed of the recently
deceased old man Buoso Donati and angry that he has left all his wealth
and property to the monastery at Signa, have engaged to find a loophole
that will “correct” the mistake and give them what they believe is their
due. Since no-one else is yet aware that the old man has died, Schicchi
disguises himself as Buoso Donati and dictates a new will that does
indeed reallocate the wealth to the family, but also bequests himself
the choicest properties.
Even though there are few even
lighthearted moments to be found in any of Puccini’s work – I can’t
think of anything outside of a few moments in Act 1 and Act 2 of La Bohème – the composer takes to Gianni Schicchi
with a terrific sense of its comic potential and evident black humour.
Right from the start of the piece, Puccini puts the sobs of the Donati
family to music in a manner that indicates that they are fake and, well,
to be laughed at, and his compositions are just as inventive and
sprightly elsewhere. Again, Puccini takes full advantage of the format –
one would imagine that a comic piece of this type would soon tire very
quickly in full-length opera. Certainly, the bel canto composers show that farce can be done at greater length – Don Pasquale, The Barber of Seville and Le Comte D’Ory
come to mind as comedies that remain fizzingly entertaining throughout,
but Puccini does so within his own musical idiom, while continuing to
be ever inventive at propelling the action and the comedy forward.
The staging of the opera by the
ETO was simply dazzling in its hilarity, playing-up the full comic
potential of the short opera with additional slapstick elements that
were perfectly in keeping with the musical and comic timing of the
piece. All of characters were grotesque caricatures with pansticked
white faces and crooked eyebrows, every gesture was measured and
pronounced, but all of it serving to heighten the comedy. As a rather
large ensemble piece working within the relatively confined space of a
bedroom, everything was nonetheless choreographed to perfection under
Liam Steel’s direction. At any given time there would be something funny
going on in every corner – although the upper level, to where
Schicchi’s innocent daughter Lauretta was banished during all the
devious scheming, didn’t feel quite as appropriate here as when it was
used for Il Tabarro. It’s Lauretta who gets the most notable aria in Gianni Schicchi (“O mio babbino caro”), admirably delivered by Paula Sides, and although it’s also worth noting Richard Mosley-Evans’ fine performance as the lawyer Schicchi himself, every one of the cast acquitted themselves marvellously.
The performances of Il Tabarro and Gianni Schicchi
at the Grand Opera House in Belfast were the final shows of the English
Touring Opera Spring tour. The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden
however will be staging performances of all three operas in a new
production of Puccini’s Il Trittico from September 2011.
