Showing posts with label John Dew. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Dew. Show all posts

Friday, 20 March 2015

Bellini - I Puritani (Vienna, 2015 - Webcast)

Vincenzo Bellini - I Puritani

Wiener Staatsoper, 2015

Marco Armiliato, John Dew, Jongmin Park, John Tessier, Carlos Álvarez, Olga Peretyatko, Sorin Coliban, Carlos Osuna, Ilseyar Khayrullova

Wiener Staatsoper Live at Home - 10 March 2015


No-one goes to see Bellini's I Puritani expecting a history lesson. I think you'd find it hard to recognise any realistic treatment or situation between the opposing Puritan and Royalist forces, and certainly not any great depth of insightful characterisation of their lives and motivations. If however you come to see I Puritani for a lesson in how to construct and put across a bel canto opera of a Romantic nature with all the trimmings, well then you're in the right place. The Vienna production of Bellini's final work is given an outstanding interpretation here, with Olga Peretyatko in the leading role showing what the real value of this work can be.

You might not get much of a history lesson, and the plot of I Puritani might appear ludicrous to the casual viewer, but there is - quite literally - method to the madness. I Puritani isn't about the English Civil War, but the setting is as good as any for an epic drama between two opposing forces. And it's not so much a conflict between Roundheads and Cavaliers here, as a war between men and women. This aspect is particularly marked in the Vienna production. In bold strokes certainly, but bold strokes that depict a greater subjective reality.

Essentially, I Puritani must be seen from the perspective of Elvira if it is to engage the audience and make any sense at all. Yes, there's a dramatic plot point that sees the Royalist Arturo risk the delicate alliance that he has established wth the Puritan Parliamentarians, by helping a Royalist prisoner escape. This moreover is not just any prisoner. Arturo has recognised that the captive is the queen herself, Henrietta. Although he is about to be married that day to Elvira, Arturo's loyalty to the queen and his sense of duty is more important. Using the veil from Elvira's wedding gown, he helps the queen escape past the guards, and leaves his bride-to-be in a bit of a state.




In broad strokes then, I Puritani is about the clash of love and duty, but specifically in the different values that that men and women attach to them. Arturo knows that his actions are not excusable, but they are credible in that they are determined by his sense of duty. In his mind, his duty towards his queen must take precedence over any personal consideration - there's no other choice he could have made. Seen in that light, Elvira's response to the masculine view towards duty and honour over private sentiments - the jilted woman disintegrating into full-blown insanity - would seem to be a bit of an over-reaction.

It's vital however to see things from Elvira's perspective. She doesn't know it was Queen Henrietta that Arturo has rescued, but even if she did know, the fact is not really relevant. She's not experiencing events in a political or historical context, but from an emotional one. In her mind, her husband-to-be, the man she loves deeply, has absconded with another woman, a woman who - in the ultimate betrayal - he has helped escape using her wedding veil. The historical background and fact that it is the Queen is relevant only to the audience in terms of scaling the enormity of this betrayal to Elvira's mindset. With the stakes set so high, it's not surprising that she goes mad.

The trick to making such a drama work is to completely draw the audience into that mindset. Bellini is able to score the work to elicit the necessary emotions and go some way to making it credible, but it must work on the stage as well. That means that you need an exceptional singer for Elvira - who is the primary focus and emotional barometer for the work - but you also need it to work in complete conjunction with a sympathetic musical interpretation and good stage direction. You can see that the cast are fully behind those personal dramas. They never appear to be larger-than-life historical figures, but creatures of delicate sensibilities and a firm sense of duty for what is right. It might not tell us much about the period, but it tells us a lot about the depth of human feeling. That's all there in Bellini's musical expression.




The stage itself them doesn't get bogged down in unnecessary historical accuracy either. Simply dressed, mostly dark, with only a few bold touches - huge beheaded statues - Heinz Balthes' sets speak of the conflict and give a sense of the scale that I Puritani works on. Bold colouration - usually associated with Elvira - is used to similar effect, while Olga Peretyatko, appears in the midst of all this in her white wedding dress a vision of perfection. That perfection becomes swallowed up in what is the only real expressionistic gesture in the stage direction. Evidently, that's during the 'mad scene' at the end of Act I, when Elvira's sense of order falls apart and she is caught up in a swirl of violent emotions.

The appropriateness of the stage direction and its ability to follow the mood becomes even more evident in Act II. There's no attempt to force the message home either in the stage direction or in the management of the orchestra. It takes its time and settles into the moment, letting it all just sink in. Sir George's description of the poor mad Elvira is just beautiful; sensitive to her plight, distraught at the cause of it (Arturo), highlighting in its own way the different male and female responses to the events that have occurred. Nothing significant happens in Act II, but between them Giorgio, Riccardo and Elvira make it really feel like it is the heart of the piece, which is what it ought to be.

As good as all this is, what really elevates the production and convincingly takes you into the heart of Elvira's dilemma and madness, is the outstanding performance of Olga Peretyatko. Peretyatko really is up there among the best in the world in some of the most challenging roles in the bel canto repertoire at the moment. Her delivery is confident but sensitive throughout. In the critical mad scene - where you really have to feel Elvira's predicament and her reaction is justified - she is not just technically accomplished to the highest level in her ornamentaion, but retains a wonderful lyricism in that lovely songbird quality that Peretyatko posesses in her voice. Demonstrating incredible control, she never overstretches or tips her performance over into full-blown hysteria.

Peretyatko's comanding central performance is, as demonstrated in Act II, well matched with solid and sensitive performances from Jongmin Park as Sir Giorgio and Carlos Álvarez as Sir Riccardo Forth. John Tessier is a little less steady as Arturo, but he has a bright timbre that is well-suited to the role, even if the high notes are a little beyond his range. It is an extremely difficult role, and not a sympathetic one, but Tessier does well to make his position credible. With such strong casting, good direction by John Dew, and the musical performance in the very capable hands of Marco Armiliato, the Vienna State Opera's production of I Puritani might not have been much of a history lesson, but it was a masterclass of Italian bel canto.


Links: Wiener Staatsoper Live Streaming programmeStaatsoper Live at Home video

Saturday, 27 April 2013

Meyerbeer - Die Hugenotten


Giacomo Meyerbeer - Die Hugenotten

Deutsche Oper Berlin, 1991

Stefan Soltesz, John Dew, Angela Denning, Lucy Peacock, Richard Leech, Harmut Welker, Camille Capasso, Martin Blasius, Marcia Bellamy, Lenus Carlson, David Griffith, Otto Leuer, Friedrich Molsberger, Iván Sárdi, Josef Becker

Arthaus Musik

Poor Giacomo Meyerbeer.  The once highly regarded titan of the 5-Act Grand Opéra is now not only long out of fashion, but on the rare occasion when his work is revived it is scarcely treated with the seriousness and sincerity in which it was undoubtedly composed.  I didn't see the Royal Opera House's recent widely derided production of Robert Le Diable, but judging it on the merits of the performance alone via its broadcast on Radio 3, it at least sounded interesting and probably deserving of a more sympathetic staging than the one devised by Laurent Pelly.  Meyerbeer's follow-up to Robert Le Diable (1831) was another beast of an opera, Les Huguenots (1836) and, unfortunately, it's another work that - even more so now - that most opera houses would consider too expensive to risk putting on and no doubt also difficult to cast.  The only recorded video performance we have of it at present is one dating back to 1991 at the Deutsche Oper Berlin.

Conducted by Stefan Soltesz and directed by John Dew, this is inevitably not a version that will satisfy purists (should such a thing as a Meyerbeer purist exist in this day and age).  As imperfect as it is in some respects, the Deutsche Oper Die Hugenotten is at the moment the only opportunity you have to see one of the big important opera works of yesteryear, and it's worthwhile for that alone.  The first thing you will note about this Blu-ray release however is that the title has been rendered in German (unlike its previous DVD release) to reflect the fact that it is a German-language edition of the original French Les Huguenots performed here.  That's not so much of an issue, since Meyerbeer was actually of German origin and this version dates from an 1837 edition prepared by Ignatz Franz Castelli, so it should be close enough to the original work.

Les Huguenots does actually suit the German tongue surprisingly well, but of more concern is the fact that Castelli's version to a large extent played down the conflict between the Catholics and Protestants that is critical to the work's historical account of the St Bartholomew's Day Massacre in 1572 during the reign of King Charles IX.  That historical content is furthermore all but abandoned in the German version of Castelli's translation prepared by John Dew for the Deutsche Oper, which sets the work in the Berlin of the period that was then divided by the Berlin Wall.  This recording of the production dates from 1991 after the breaking down of the wall, but even then it still dates from a period when the imagery still held real significance to the people of Berlin.


Quite how the situation in divided Berlin corresponds with religious conflict in Les Huguenots is however difficult to establish.  In Meyerbeer's opera - with a libretto from the illustrious team of Eugène Scribe and Émile Deschamps - Marguerite de Valois is to marry the Protestant King Henry of Navarra as a gesture of peace between the two sides.  To further strengthen this union, the Count de Nevers accordingly invites the Huguenot Raoul de Nangis to his castle in Touraine and offers him marriage to Valentine de Saint-Bris, but Raoul has already seen a beautiful vision of loveliness and fallen in love unwittingly with Marguerite de Valois herself.  After some romantic complications Raoul agrees to marry Valentine, but when he gets wind of a plot by the Catholics to massacre the Huguenots it only deepens the conflict between his duty and his heart.

How do we know this?  Because just in case we miss it, Raoul tells us directly - "Duty... my heart... a difficult battle", and Meyerbeer's scoring only emphasises the obvious conflict even further.  When there is something of a lack of subtlety (or taste), you can see why modern directors feel the need to play up the unintentional campness of Meyerbeer's work.  How else, for example, are you meant to stage Marcel's "Piff, paff, poff!" aria nowadays other than having everyone skip around the stage in a half-dance?  I'm not sure, but I think I'd like to see a more serious-minded director try it and not necessarily in a traditional context, since even in this shortened version (only two and a half hours for a 5-Act Grand Opéra?) Meyerbeer's management and control of the number opera is evidently masterful, presenting a broad scope of melodrama, romance and entertainment in its varied situations with an abundance of melody and drive.


Are the Royalist Catholics meant to represent the Communist forces of East Germany and the Protestants the small population of the surrounded West Berliners?  How will a marriage smooth relations in such a situation?  The production might not correspond perfectly to its Berlin setting but neither does it really detract from the strength of the work or indeed from the performances in this production.  The singing is exceptionally good from all the main performers.  Richard Leech has the right kind of strong, resonant lyrical voice for Grand Opéra, reminding me a little of Roberto Alagna in places.  He copes well with all the high-Cs thrown his way, but it's Angela Denning who has the difficult role of Marguerite de Valois.  Her opening Act II aria is fiendishly difficult and it shows her limitations, but she is good elsewhere.  Lucy Peacock's Valentine is marvellous and there's good work also from Harmut Welker as the Comte de Saint-Bris and Camille Capasso as the Page.  Only Martin Blasius' Marcel isn't up to the mark.  To say the least.

Brian Large directs the production for the screen.  I'm not sure what technology was available at the time in 1991, but the widescreen image is certainly HD quality and it looks excellent.  The audio isn't quite so good.  Only a PCM stereo option is available and the lower-frequencies can be a little booming if you are playing this at any volume using a subwoofer.  On headphones, the sound dynamic is better distributed to the L-R channels.  The detail in the orchestration is there, if it's not as clean and precise as we're now used to with HD recordings, and the singing is relatively clear also.  There are no extra features on the Blu-ray.  The disc is all-region with subtitles in English, French and Spanish.