Wuorinen - Brokeback Mountain

Charles Wuorinen - Brokeback Mountain

Teatro Real, Madrid - 2014

Titus Engel, Ivo van Hove, Daniel Okulitch, Tom Randle, Heather Buck, Hannah Esther Minutillo, Ethan Herschenfeld, Celia Alcedo, Ryan MacPherson, Jane Henschel, Hilary Summers, Letitia Singleton, Gaizka Gurruchaga, Vasco Fracanzani

Medici, ARTE Concert - Internet Streaming, 7 February 2014

Although it goes right back to the source short story, and even has a libretto specifically written by the original author Annie Proulx, the initial idea to compose an opera based on Brokeback Mountain came to Charles Wuorinen after watching Ang Lee's 2005 film. It's likely that the popular and acclaimed film will also be the point of comparison for most people viewing Wourinen's opera version, the work receiving its world premiere in Madrid in 2014. As with any adaptation of material from another medium, the opera version of Brokeback Mountain in such a case must not only stand up on its own terms but it needs to bring something new, something specific to the nature of music theatre that literature and cinema can't. Wourinen's opera succeeds in this to a large extent and does full justice to the nature if the story, if not in any way bring anything spectacularly new to it.

In terms of the content, while Annie Proulx does go back to the source material and treats some aspects rather differently from the cinematic version, the nature, the character and the development of the relationship at the centre of the story remains essentially the same. It deals with the troubled love affair between two men in an American mid-western cowboy community who are unable to openly express their feelings for each other, partly due to concerns about how their relationship will be viewed by a society with rather harsh and unforgiving attitudes to anything that doesn't fit in with their accepted conventional moral views, but partly due to their own masculine inability to come to terms with their emotions.

Those feelings and the contrasting views on this subject in Annie Proulx's story are very much tied into the contrast between life on Brokeback Mountain in Wyoming where ranch hands Jack Twist and Ennis Del Mar first meet, and the rather less freedom that the men enjoy when they come down from summer on the isolated mountain and have to fit into "normal" society again, finding work, marrying and providing for their families. In the opera version, the concision and compression of the material in Proulx's libretto gives greater prominence and emphasis to this division between the laws of nature and society, but it's also given additional weight through Charles Wuorinen's very distinctive musical treatment.

The tone that is adopted by the work as a whole is established immediately right from the first bold, dramatic, troubling chords that are struck, and there's not an ounce of sentimentality, romanticism or even false optimism to be found elsewhere in the music score or the dialogue. Right from the outset, the relationship between Jack and Ennis is a troubled one, one that will never be fully accepted by either society or on equal terms by both men, and it colours and deeply affects even those few moments of bliss that the two of them are able to snatch together over the years on the rare occasions that they are able to "go fishing" on Brokeback Mountain. Proulx's concisely drawn libretto authentically reflects both the sparse exchanges and general inarticulacy of the men themselves, yet is also able to use literary techniques to draw out the underlying characteristics of their relationship.

As suggested by the location and the title, the primary expression of the men's relationship is that of Brokeback Mountain. The libretto consequently is scattered with references to the natural world, but reflecting the nature of that relationship it's rarely comforting, the mountains populated with coyotes, wolves and bears. For the brief moments that they are far away from the ordinary cares of the world, they are however eagles, at least in Jack Twist's mind. Ennis however, mindful of the responsibilities placed on him, knowing that he is going to marry Alma, finds it more difficult to enjoy the same freedom of thought, but allows himself to succumb to the image of the free-flying hawk. Another highly evocative image - although it's not over emphasised - is that of the sheep. In a way, the sheep could be seen to represent regular society, and since they are employed to look after them by Aguirre, a man who we know is a stickler for rules, the two men feel some obligation of responsibility towards the social construct that allows them to make a life for themselves.

On its own, this leaner this more stripped down version of the storyline expresses the intensity of the relationship and feelings well, but for it to find full expression in an opera it needs the music and the staging to support it. In this particular work, what remains unspoken is often just as important as what is, and that has to be elaborated on further than just a few poetic images and references to nature. The American composer Charles Wuorinen manages to find a strong way to express this in the music which is 12-tone and modernist but not atonal. Without impressionism or abstraction, it's actually quite lyrical and expressionistic, well-suited to the material, the musical language not unlike the Richard Strauss of Elektra and Salome. It's never folk or country inflected, but rather directly connected to the tenseness of the situation, to the uneasy nature of the men and their relationship, matching and underlining every word and sentiment.

As such, the music follows the vocal line rather than setting it, attempting to capture the rhythms of English-language speech patterns, as well as the halting delivery and uncertainty of the nature of the underlying sentiments they are expressing. Daniel Okulitch as Ennis and Tom Randle as Jack deal exceptionally well with this type of expression, totally convincing in terms of characterisation while managing to make the singing quite lyrical and melodic. These are strong performance indeed, and they need to be. As Alma, Heather Buck's role is no less important to the development of the drama and she also gives a terrific performance. Using projections to open up the Teatro Real stage for the outdoors scenes that allow for moody silhouettes, and closing it down with the clutter of furniture and household appliances, Jan Versweyveld's sets match Ivo van Hove's note perfect direction of the characters.

Likely to be seen now as Gérard Mortier's legacy as the controversial but hugely creative and experimental artistic director of the Teatro Real in Madrid, the World Premiere production of Charles Wuorinen's Brokeback Mountain was streamed live on the ARTE Concert and Medici websites. The opera is currently still available to view on both sites, in English with English subtitles.

Strauss - Elektra

Richard Strauss - Elektra

Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, 2013

Esa-Pekka Salonen, Patrice Chéreau, Evelyn Herlitzius, Waltraud Meier, Adrianne Pieczonka, Mikhail Petrenko, Tom Randle, Franz Mazura, Florian Hoffmann, Sir Donald McIntyre, Renate Behle, Bonita Hyman, Andrea Hill, Silvia Hablowetz, Marie-Eve Munger, Roberta Alexander

ARTE Live Web Internet Streaming - 19 July 2013

In terms of theatrical expression, Strauss's Elektra has minimal but nonetheless very specific requirements. What everyone remembers about any production of this extraordinary work is how it handles the final scene of violent release from all of the tension, bitterness and threats of dire vengeance that has led up to it. The build-up to that finale meanwhile is best expressed through the performance of the singer in the role of Electra. In the case of the 2013 Aix-en-Provence production the appropriate tone is achieved by Patrice Chéreau in one of his all-too-infrequent returns to opera directing, and through a stunning performance of Evelyn Herlitzius.

The set design at Aix is fairly straightforward and classical in design, reminding one of Chéreau's staging of Janacek's From The House of the Dead at Aix in 2007. There's some correlation in these two very different works, since Mycenae is effectively a prison for Electra and for the servants who work alongside her at the palace of her mother Clytemnestra and her step-father Aegisthus. The impression given here is very much that of a women's prison and it's a particularly bleak one. It's grey, bare, dark and ominous with surrounding high walls at the back that create an oppressive ambience, the only outstanding feature a small ditch in the ground where Electra dwells and expresses her grief in tirades of hatred against the murderers of her father Agamemnon and her despair that her brother Orestes isn't there to exact revenge.

In a single act opera, with very little dramatic action or scene changes, the stage is often used to reflect the inner mind of Electra's soul in torment. If that's the case here - and Elektra is very much a psychological drama - then it's a typically bleak and unrelenting depiction of psychopathy. There are no soft edges here in Richard Peduzzi's sets, and other than the surround to the door leading to Clytemnestra's chambers, there are no curves either. It's all blocky with harsh angles - not even expressionist, but composed entirely of sharp right-angles that suggest not so much a fractured mindstate as one of solid determination of purpose. There is as little variation in this appearance as there is little variation in the overall tone of the work, the only set movement occurring when a platform is extended at the climax to reveal the murdered Clytemnestra to Aegisthus.

Chéreau's strengths as a director however extend much further than merely establishing a suitable mood or moving the performers across the stage. In the case of Elektra, where the work is so perfectly written and meticulously composed (is there any work that is so musically expressive of the slightest variations of mood, action, drama and internalised sentiments than this one?), it's more of a challenge not to interfere too much and Chéreau clearly recognises this. The director's duty in Elektra, more so than perhaps in any other work, is to serve the music and the libretto and find a way to transfer the incredibly strong emotions credibly and meaningfully into actions. Esa-Pekka Salonen's conducting is accordingly attentive to detail, weaving, sweeping and driving without ever being overly forceful. For his part, Chéreau recognises the archetypal female psychologies expressed in Electra, Clytemnestra and Chrysothemis, as well as parallels that exist between Electra and Hamlet and all these references feed into the character development even if they don't need to be made explicit in the production itself.

The greater part of the force of Elektra however is expressed through the singing of the highly challenging role of Electra herself, and Evelyn Herlitzius proves to be well up to the task.  Having seen Herlitzius recently as Kundry in Parsifal, the German soprano is increasingly proving to be a singer of real dramatic power and substance in the most challenging Wagnerian and Strauss roles. All the force that is required is here in a committed performance that is as unwavering and unyielding as Electra's personality and madness is concentrated into her singleminded desire for revenge. Evidently, there's a lot of writhing around in torment and a dance of death to deal with as well (which doesn't actually end in Electra's death here), but Herlitzius deals with the physical demands of the role tremendously well and is fully deserving of the huge acclaim that greets her at her curtain call.

Elektra is largely a one-person opera, but the singing and the characterisation elsewhere needs to be up to the mark and most of the other main performances are strong here. Canadian soprano Adrianne Pieczonka comes across most impressively with an outstanding performance as Chrysothemis that provides the necessary contrast and counterbalance to the darkness of Electra's position. Waltraud Meier on the other hand seems to be holding back a little here, but she comes alive powerfully in her scenes with Evelyn Herlitzius. Mikhail Petrenko is a fine Orestes, but even though it's a small role Tom Randle doesn't have the right kind of voice or the necessary force to sing Aegisthus.

Elektra at the Aix-en-Provence Festival is available for viewing on-line (with French subtitles) from the ARTE Live Web site. There appear however to be region restrictions preventing viewing outside of France and Germany.

Haydn - Orlando Paladino

Franz Joseph Haydn - Orlando Paladino

Staatsoper Unter den Linden, Berlin - 2009

René Jacobs, Nigel Lowery, Amir Hosseinpour, Marlis Petersen, Tom Randle, Victor Torres, Pietro Spagnoli, Alexandrina Pendatchanska, Magnus Staveland, Sunhae Im, Arttu Kataja

EuroArts - Blu-ray

There appear to be two ways to look at this production of Haydn's Orlando Paladino recorded at the Staatsoper Unter den Linden in Berlin in 2009.  You can either view the bizarre elements as a hodgepodge of ideas and a bit of a mess, or you can accept that it simply reflects the perspective of the state of madness of Count Orlando himself, with a little bit of the humour that Haydn injects into his 'dramma eroicomico' (heroic comedy) version of Ariosto's classic tale of the Crusades.  Since it's not entirely successful, there's a case to be made for either of those views but there's maybe a third way of looking at it that surpasses all such considerations.  As directed by René Jacobs, it's simply a superb account of the work with some outstanding singing performances that bring a real sense of character to the work.

Character is at least something that there is plentiful supply of in the set and production design of directors Nigel Lowery and Amir Hosseinpour.  Haydn's version of the Orlando legend still retains some Baroque elements - there's not too much action and a lot of stage entrances and exits for a series of solo arias.  There is more to this of course, Haydn providing some beautiful duets, comic interludes and interaction and of course the obligatory ensemble finales at the end of each act, all of it set to the composer's stirring and somewhat stately musical arrangements.  The actual drama however can still be theatrically rather static, so the production here at least tries to bring it to life.  Partly that's done through René Jacobs' conducting of the Freiburger Barockorchester and the use of period instruments - which brings considerable character to the work - but as far as the stage direction goes, it's achieved by adopting the perspective of Orlando in his madness.

Apart from the character's wild beard and shock of hair, the most obvious indications of Orlando's madness are the other representations lookalike bearded figures whirling away in the background and sometimes forcing themselves centre-stage between the other figures.  It can be a bit strange then to see these figures pop up, particularly when they are dressed as a bishop or a matador and even in a wedding dress or as a flight hostess uniform.  Evidently these are meant to represent various aspects of Orlando's fractured personality in relation to his time in the crusades and, most significantly, in his jealousy over Angelica deserting him for the Saracen warrior Medoro.  Quite how some of these personalities match isn't always entirely clear, but there's no such doubts about what is meant when Orlando turns into an axe-wielding maniac in the fashion of 'The Shining', cutting his way through the door of the castle where Angelica and Medoro are hiding out.

The production then at least has a sense of humour and it's perfectly in keeping with Haydn's relatively light-hearted version of the work.  Orlando Paladino is a very different work from Handel's dark and melancholic Orlando, so there's room for such playfulness.  Much of it comes through the characters of Eurilla and Pasquale - both of them delightfully played here by Im Sunhae and Victor Torres - but there's also opportunities to have fun with the spells of the enchantress Alcina and even with Radomonte, the King of Barbary.  Dressing the latter up as a pantomime pirate who has an unfortunate habit of accidentally cutting things with his sword (including amputating his own hand) might be taking things too far for some however.  Likewise depicting Angelica as some kind of beauty queen might appear to be making things weird for the sake of it, but Haydn can do melancholic wistfulness just as well as comedy, and the production and the musical performance supports and integrates the variety of tones.

If there's not any single reason why this integrates so well and actually works - an opera must come together on every level - the performances of the cast here nonetheless have a lot to do with it.  I've seen Marlis Petersen sing Reimann (Medea), Verdi (Violetta) and now Haydn - three composers who could hardly be more different - and yet she has been nothing less than stunning in each of them.  Her light, lyrical yet strong and expressive soprano voice however seems particularly well-suited to Haydn (and I could see her doing earlier Baroque music quite effectively as well).  You really have to put personality into the characters like Angelica here, and Petersen has plenty of that.  Tom Randle is a superb Orlando, clear of diction with a deep rounded timbre.  There's nuance of expression here in the singing and the acting, even within such an exaggerated interpretation.  All the other performances are equally strong and integrate well with the musical and dramatic elements.  Im Sunhae however is particularly sparkling and vibrant as Eurilla, and Alexandrina Pendatchanska an effective Alcina.

Released by EuroArts, the Blu-ray presents the performance well, with a good image transfer and clear, bright stereo and surround audio mixes.  The sound is a little bit echoing because of the stage set and the microphone placement (no wireless mics on the performers here), but it's clear and detailed.  There are no extra features on the disc, but there's a good essay in the enclosed booklet.  There's no synopsis either, but a full printed tracklist is useful.  The BD is region-free, full-HD, BD50, with subtitles in English, French, German and Italian.

Berg - Lulu

Alban Berg - Lulu

La Monnaie-De Munt, Brussels 2012

Paul Daniel, Krzysztof Warlikowski, Barbara Hannigan, Natascha Petrinsky, Frances Bourne, Tom Randle, Dietrich Henschel, Charles Workman, Pavlo Hunka, Ivan Ludlow, Albrecht Kludzuweit, Rúni Brattaberg, Mireille Capelle, Beata Morawska, Benoît De Leersnyder, Gerard Lavalle, Charles Dekeyser, Anna Maistriau, Rosalba Torres Guerrero, Claude Bardouil

La Monnaie Internet Streaming

As a work that it was necessary to subject to some interpolation of the music score on account of its final Act being left largely unfinished by the composer at the time of his death in 1935, there’s a richness to Lulu that leaves it open to infinite rearrangement of its elements. The openness of its subject - the eternal ambiguity that is Lulu, or indeed the eternal ambiguity that is the fate of a woman in the modern world - and the nature of the writing means that even within the two acts that were fully scored by Alban Berg, there is a multiplicity of meaning that can be applied to its themes through the imposition of emphasis on different elements of the work. For Polish director Krzysztof Warlikowski in his 2012 production for La Monnaie-De Munt in Brussels (viewed here via the opera house’s internet streaming service), the principal idea that is emphasised - the one that expresses the inner nature of Lulu before it becomes corrupted by the reality of her circumstances - is that of her childhood ambition to be a successful dancer.

To add further weight to this idea - a valid idea that doesn’t needs any further justification - Warlikowski refers to a little-known biographical detail in Berg’s life, an unacknowledged daughter, Albine, who he fathered with a woman twice his age who worked for the family. Later in life, Albine - a painter and a model - made contact with Berg, looking for a father or a father-figure, but also hoping perhaps to be taken seriously through her association with Berg in her dream of being an artist. For the director, it’s hard not to consider that the nature of this relationship would have found its way into the composition of Lulu, and it’s certainly an interesting detail that adds to the mystery and ambiguity of the work. Tied in with this is the parallel writing, incorporating elements of Lulu that would be used for the scoring of the unfinished third act in 1979 by Friedrich Cerha, of the violin concerto which would become a requiem for the 17 year old daughter of Alma Mahler and architect Walter Gropius. Another less likely reference that Warlikowski seems to drawn upon to express this desire to be a successful artist, the internal pressures that reveal cracks in the female psyche and the requiem “to the memory of an angel”, is Darren Aronofsky’s lurid melodrama ‘Black Swan‘.

The most obvious reference to this is in an extended dance sequence added to the end of the first act, where a dancer in a black tutu (Rosalba Torres Guerrero), stripping down to waist, performs the dance of the dying swan with extraordinary intensity, but there are other rather disturbing references that have a David Lynch quality (particularly with dual-killing at the end of the work of the blonde Lulu and the dark Countess Geschwitz), with dark masked figures always on the stage, in the background and on occasions taking over the roles of other characters who are complicit in her downfall. Young girls in ballet outfits also populate the stage, often within a glass cage - at least one of whom is presumably meant to represent Lulu’s innocence - but others reflect explicit references in the work to the sale into prostitution and the exploitation of women. Most directly however, Lulu herself is frequently dressed in tutus and dancer costumes, moves around en pointe, dancing to her doom.

Barbara Hannigan throws herself fearlessly into the role, but there’s really no other way to play Lulu. There’s a necessary balance that must be struck between a sense of abandon to her fate and the discipline that is required to maintain her sense of self, and playing the role as a dancer works very well with this idea. Hannigan was involved with the dance/opera collaboration in her last role this season at La Monnaie - Pascal Dupasin and Sasha Waltz’s Passion - and she puts the strength, flexibility and stamina demanded in that role to good use here, being metaphorically flung around and twisted, but also physically rolling around, holding dance poses and singing at the same time, while also being in a state of undress in provocative positions. Hannigan’s superb control of her high range and light soprano was perfect for the role of Lulu, and evidently it was tested to its limits here, with additional demands placed on the role by the nature of the dancing, but she was impressively capable throughout. She perhaps doesn’t have the robustness or the experience required for the darker side of her character’s development and downfall in the latter half of the work, but it could also be that the direction and the limitations of the concept (or its expansiveness) didn’t really give her a clear enough focus to work with. Regardless, Hannigan brought her own focus and intensity to the part and, by any standard, this was simply an extraordinary performance of Lulu.

There are many personalities and realities wrapped up within the complex powerplay of characters, in Berg’s extraordinary score and in Friedrich Cerha’s completion of the work that make this a difficult work to grasp entirely, and this production at least tries to capture the whole range of possibilities that this gives rise to within its design. It looks terrific, with a great deal going on in the foreground and the background - almost too much to take in really. Effective use is made of screens and projections, with additional dancers and figures presenting a disturbing freak-show display in a glass cage and a final act that is set in a ballet school dormitory (by way of an underground station) that feels frightening and exploitative. This Lulu was decadent where it ought to be, wild and abandoned, but also precise and intense on the points that matter. With a lavish production filled with ideas and resonances, Lulu’s extremely complex cast of personalities was given additional force through an all-round strong cast. Natascha Petrinsky brought a softer, more vulnerable but strong sensibility to the usually difficult to characterise Countess Geschwitz, Charles Workman was a handsomely voiced and driven Alwa, and Dietrich Henschel suitably and impressively menacing as Dr. Schön and Jack The Ripper.

This production of Lulu is available to view on-line for free for 21 days until 28th November, through the La Monnaie web site. Subtitles are available only in French and Dutch.