Heggie - Dead Man Walking (New York, 2023)

Jake Heggie - Dead Man Walking

The Metropolitan Opera, 2023

Yannick Nézet-Séguin, Joyce DiDonato, Ryan McKinny, Susan Graham, Latonia Moore, Rod Gilfry, Krysty Swann, Wendy Bryn Harmer, Chauncey Packer, Helena Brown, Briana Hunter, Magdalena Kuźma, Matteo Omoso Castro, Alexa Jarvis, Justin Austin, Chad Shelton, Raymond Aceto, Regan Sims, Mark Joseph Mitrano, Jonah Mussolino, Christopher Job, John Hancock, Patrick Miller, Jonathan Scott, Earle Patriarco, Ross Benoliel, Tyler Simpson

The Met: Live in HD - 21st October 2023

It's the start of a new Met Live in HD Season, and no longer enjoying the star power of Anna Netrebko since their falling out over the war in Ukraine as a draw for the opening broadcast, the Metropolitan Opera in New York have instead chosen to go down an unexpected route of promoting contemporary American composers, as they did with Terence Blanchard's incendiary Fire Shut Up In My Bones in 2021. It's a risky strategy, but as Peter Gelb acknowledged in the introduction before the cinema relay, perhaps a necessary one for the Met to change and recognise opera as a relevant contemporary creative artform, not just a revival of music composed centuries ago. And presumably, such an approach might be necessary to attract new younger and more diverse audiences.

To that end not only does the 2023/24 season open with the Met premiere of Jake Heggie's Dead Man Walking, but the next two broadcasts are also new or modern works, X: The Life and Times of Malcolm X by Anthony Davis and Florencia en el Amazonas by Daniel Catán. That is certainly an appealing line-up for me, at least in as far as having the opportunity to experience unfamiliar works in the next best way to seeing them live (which would be highly unlikely outside of the United States in any case). The Met have their Live in HD broadcasts down to a fine art, and that was certainly the experience with their completely stunning production of Dead Man Walking.

Composed in 2000, and having the distinction of being the most successful or at least most widely performed (in America) new opera of the 21th century (so far), the Met are late catching on to Jake Heggie's first opera, but they certainly make up for it with a production that does the work full justice and which may even consolidate its reputation and popularity. I'm late to the work myself, as American contemporary composers are not particularly fashionable in Europe and rarely get performed here. As if seeking to make that cross-over, the Met chose the Belgian experimental opera and theatre director Ivo van Hove to direct their first production of the work, and that was enough to entice me out to see it in the cinema, when I otherwise might not have. I'm very glad I did, and it will certainly bring me back to see their other new productions this season.

Some of my initial hesitation and doubts about having any interest in Dead Man Walking would have been down to it being made into a film (that admittedly I haven't seen) and the subject matter. Although based n a real life story of a nun, Sister Helen Prejean and her memoir of the friendship she struck up with a man on Death Row in the days leading up to his execution, it not only seemed to me designed to stir emotions and gain Oscar nominations, but I imagined that the opera would have similar intentions and be a little ...well, over-emphatic perhaps if not overly sentiment stirring. And it turns out there is some truth in this, Heggie and his librettist Terrence McNally designing the opera to play out as much like a movie screenplay as an opera follow along similar lines, which is where the choice of Ivo van Hove to direct it comes across as a true masterstroke.

Ivo van Hove is a theatre director who is used to working with cinematic drama. He has adapted Bergman's 'After the Rehearsal' and 'Scenes From a Marriage', Cassavetes' 'Opening Night' and Visconti's 'Ossessione' among many film adaptations for the stage, but he also brings a cinematic quality to his plays, using on-stage cameras and projections. His opera productions have similarly benefitted from these kind of techniques that open up backgrounds and underlying tensions, but his success with opera is as much in his ability to draw marvellous acting performances out of the principals and the secondary singers, using every means to express the maximum impact and insight out of whatever he is working on.

Surprisingly, for Dead Man Walking he is much more restrained in how he presents the work, settling for a minimalist set with lots of open space and limited use of on-stage camera-operators and projections. I thought at first that he might be reining in any excesses for an audience less used to experimental European theatre, but it soon became clear that van Hove was actually just serving the needs of the opera Dead Man Walking. Aside from the filmed opening sequence depicting the murders, the menacing prison scenes with guards and prisoners seeming to erupt out of swirling infernal mists, his direction here allows the drama to focus and bring out what is already well-scripted and scored in the relationship between Sister Helen and Joseph De Rocher, letting the characters come alive through their words and interaction rather than employing and of his usual tricks and techniques.

That is almost certainly the right way to approach Heggie and McNally's Dead Man Walking. Ivo van Hove makes what could otherwise be film-like theatrical, as well as theatrical for the big screen in the cinema broadcast. Such is the nature of the subject, the direct way it is handled in the superb libretto and the sometimes heavy-handed score by Heggie, that any further emphasis or extraneous action would be too much. Scene after scene had huge emotional impact, and the director doesn't get in the way of that. The final execution scene, as is surely intended, is almost devastating, the director here choosing to get right in close on the act of delivery of the lethal injection with a hand-held camera projecting the procedure. If the rights or wrongs of capital punishment are largely left to the viewer to decide, the inhumanity of taking another's life is not and the production makes sure you see exactly what it entails.

I'm not sure what I expected from Heggie's score, not being familiar with the composer, but his writing for this opera surprised me. He is stated as being in the American tradition - whatever that is, Bernstein maybe? - but Dead Man Waking reminded me of Poulenc and Dialogues des Carmélites. Perhaps the amount of nuns on stage influenced that idea, but I think emotionally, thematically, structurally and musically it's a close match. It's powerfully composed for maximum impact, if perhaps a little too over-emphatic and bombastic in places under the musical direction of Yannick Nézet-Séguin, but I'm sure he delivered it the way the composer intended. It certainly achieves the desired impact; invigorating and draining at the same time.

As well as every other element of the production being up to the extremely high standards of the Metropolitan Opera, the casting of the principals, the singing and acting performances are simply beyond reproach. Every role, not just the central relationship between convict and nun, is filled with character, the performances consequently utterly committed to doing them justice and superbly delivered. You couldn't expect more from Joyce DiDonato and Ryan McKinny, both absolutely rivetting, but it's hard to imagine anyone surpassing the deeply felt emotional delivery of Susan Graham as De Rocher's mother. Secondary roles are just as well written and performed, with Rod Gilfry in particular standing out as the father of the murdered girl, but impressive performances also from newer Met singers Latonia Moore, Krysty Swann, Wendy Bryn Harmer, Chauncey Packer all providing notable performances, particularly in the family scenes with overlapping dialogue and raw emotion pouring out.

While I am instinctively suspicious of work that is this emotionally charged and direct, it's almost impossible for any aspect of Dead Man Walking to be "too much" considering the subject and the way it demands to be presented. No one element however overshadows another in the Met's 2023 production, everything comes together to present Jake Heggie's opera in the best possible light, from these incredible singing and acting performances and the perfectly pitched direction. Even the Live in HD presentation is just perfect, engaging the cinema audience with the filming, the close-ups, Ivo van Hove's own on-screen camera and split-screen shots, making this feel like they were sharing something truly remarkable and even momentous. Impressive on big screen, the video capture of this final performance will no doubt continue to resonate and secure the place of Dead Man Walking in the American contemporary opera canon.

External Links: The Metrooolitan Opera, The Met: Live in HD season

Janáček - The Makropoulos Case (Paris, 2023)

Leoš Janáček - The Makropoulos Case

Opéra National de Paris, 2023

Susanna Mälkki, Krzysztof Warlikowski, Karita Mattila, Pavel Černoch, Nicholas Jones, Ilanah Lobel-Torres, Johan Reuter, Cyrille Dubois, Károly Szemerédy, Peter Bronder 

Paris Opera Play - 13th October 2023

I could think of several reasons why the idea of Krzysztof Warlikowski directing a Janáček opera would be an attractive proposition - attractive enough in my case to start a subscription with Paris Opera Play to watch a livestream broadcast. The science-fiction nature of The Makropoulos Case and its modernity lends itself to wild flights of imagination, and the relatively short running time of the opera means that an adventurous director like Warlikowski doesn't have to strive too hard to make it fit with what will undoubtedly push a concept beyond the limits of what the opera can sustain. And the promotional 'King Kong' images it has to be said show that Warlikowski is going to push his own ideas and distinctive view of opera as far as he can.

He can't help himself with this one, such is the richness of the 'script' and the 'soundtrack' he has to work with that he can indulge his love of classic and iconic movies to the extent that even a short opera like Makropoulos is somehow extended to almost 2 hours. Regardless of what you think of the director's style and techniques, you can hardly argue with is his choice of 'Marilyn Monroe' to represent the superstar fame of the opera's ageless icon Emilia Marty and her tragic situation.

The opening section, that this director often fills with filmed movie footage of his own for his productions, this time uses original classic Hollywood footage of 'Sunset Boulevard' and 'King Kong', neither of which feature Monroe of course, but blending these with documentary footage recounting the string of marriages and the tragedy of a legend, the fall of Marilyn Monroe, they tangentially serve to provide an effective link between her life and The Makropoulos Case. Rather than take place within the offices of the lawyer Kolenaty then, this merges into a kind of on-stage reenactment of the unveiling of bound King Kong to a New York audience. No, definitely not the most obvious of connections to the start of The Makropoulos Case.

And yet, there are plenty of references in the libretto to connect the tragedy of Elina Makropoulos with Marilyn Monroe - "Nothing is eternal. 'Vanitas' …ashes to ashes!" "What can you care about a woman of ill repute who lived 100 years ago?". It might not draw anything new out of the opera, but it certainly provides a fresh way to look at the work, a new way to connect to its themes, since the plot is a fairly convoluted one. Warlikowski's production certainly brings out how women have been objectified by men over the years the harm inflicted on Emilia Marty as a woman who has lived through it and seen it all, been abused and mistreated by men trying to mold her in the image of their fantasies. "See this scar on my neck? Another man tried to kill me. I'm not going to undress to show you all the marks men have left on my body". she tells a besotted Albert Gregor, in thrall to the lure of the glamorous image.

It's a gift of a role for any star soprano who is able to project a similar glamorous allure, and Karita Mattila proves to be a good choice for her ability to inhabit the persona of the enigma that is Emilia Marty; a star, diva, a Norma Desmond. Dressed as Marilyn Monroe in a constantly billowing Seven Year Itch dress is a bit more of a stretch, but this is opera and almost every opera has a singer cast in a role that they don't match physically or in age, and Mattila carries it off surprising well. This is after all an opera where we are dealing with a character who is an ageless 337, so anything goes surely? 'Anything goes surely' being the philosophy of Warlikowski as well you could say. What matters is that she can sing the role and inhabit the role with personality. 

Mattila's voice might be a little weaker now in terms of volume, but she delivers a hugely convincing performance and the personality is definitely all there. Her voice sounded a little muffled in places, but it's hard to judge that from a live web broadcast. She still sings with great control, singing in Czech, which is doubtlessly challenging. As is the role itself, which Warlikowski doesn't make any easier, but there is little room for doubt about her ability there, her performance very impressive, genuinely magnetic and charismatic. All the roles are similarly well-cast and performed with notable performances from Pavel Černoch as Albert 'Bertik' Gregor and Ilanah Lobel-Torres as Krista. As often proves to be the case, 'Maxi' Hauck brings a humorous touch to the opera, sung here by Peter Bronder as an ice-cream salesman during the interval at the theatre/movie theatre where Emilia is appearing in a fully-staged reconstruction of Fay Wray being picked up by Kong.

Set designer Małgorzata Szczęśniak provides an impressive set and staging for this scene, a key scene in the work that succeeds in capturing the wonder, humour and the underlying tragedy of life that - like Jenůfa and The Cunning Little Vixen - lies at the heart of the work. Also, since the work does relate to the nature of the artist taking on many roles, exploring human experience, the nature of aging or remaining ageless, it does relate well also to Sunset Boulevard. Maxi becomes Erich von Stroheim's butler to Emilia's Marilyn Monroe/Norma Desmond, the opera finishing with a swimming pool scene that captures the glamour of the lifestyle and the tragedy to unfold there. Ars longa, vita brevis.

It's all there - glamour, spectacle, consideration of the nature of living and being human - all wrapped up in a marvellous entertainment with glorious music conducted here by Susanna Mälkki. That's The Makropoulos Case and there's no question all the glamour, spectacle and full consideration of what the opera has to tell us about the nature of living is fully what you get in Krzysztof Warlikowski's new production for the Paris Opera.

External Links: Opéra National de Paris, Paris Opera Play

Foccroulle - Cassandra (Brussels, 2023)

Bernard Foccroulle - Cassandra

La Monnaie-De Munt, 2023

Kazushi Ono, Marie-Ève Signeyrole, Katarina Bradić, Jessica Niles, Susan Bickley, Sarah Defrise, Paul Appleby, Joshua Hopkins, Gidon Saks, Sandrine Mairesse, Lisa Willems

OperaVision - 14th September 2023

There are any number of Greek dramas and myths that remain applicable to today, with themes that are still capable of inspiring contemporary operas. Matthew Aucoin's Eurydice adapts Sarah Ruhl's original play and libretto to explore deeper feminist and human themes explored by the Orpheus myth, while Aribert Reimann's Medea casts a shadow over a society intolerant of outsiders, its rulers obsessed with wealth and prestige, blind to the danger of failing to respond appropriately to the needs of those seeking asylum and the price that is paid by our children. Cassandra in as far as Bernard Foccroulle's opera presents it, clearly speaks to perhaps the most immediate global crisis facing modern society, one that is being warned about daily and becoming ever more urgent, but it's apparent that again, no one is listening. Climate change is the pre-warned disaster facing us all.

Cursed by Apollo so that her premonitions for the future will fall on deaf ears, the words "Ototoi popoi da” that Cassandra struggles to express at the start of Foccroulle's opera are unintelligible and unheeded until disaster strikes. She emerges here as a ghost of the past brought into the present, the two time periods combined and overlapping through a wall of literature written on the subject. The collapse of Troy with all its classical implications - traditionally well-served in opera as well as in Greek drama - is echoed in a modern disaster, as the wall collapses leaving devastation in its wake. People buried by the disaster emerge cut and bruised and crying over the dead in the rubble, as a camera operator zooms in showing the devastation in all its horror.

It's a familiar scene that we have seen repeatedly on our own screens over the last couple of years. There's really no beating around the bush here. The opening is direct and devastating, a classical style Cassandra in full outburst, carrying a dead bleeding child plucked from the ruins of Troy as a Greek chorus ominously intones the consequences of the failure to listen and the orchestra delivers jagged blocks of chords. It's a powerful opening, the impact heightened by Foccroulle's music, not to mention the reaction of Cassandra, and yet, despite all the power of classical-inspired opera, it's a message that is still likely one to go unheeded. It needs something more to bring that message up to date, and Foccroulle and librettist Matthew Jocelyn choose to find another way to get the message across.

There is an intentionally jarring change of tone as the setting abruptly changes to the present day, where a modern day Cassandra, PhD student and published climatologist Sandra Seymour, conscious that all other attempts to express the imminency of the danger have fallen on deaf ears, chooses to deliver her warning as a comedy routine. Running models and algorithms from her studies, Sandra knows danger is real, but chooses to approach the subject with the audience by blaming 'sex fiends' going under the names of Donald, Jeff and Vladimir raping the earth, as she shatters a block of ice. There's not really any beating around the here bush either (not much comedy either), but there is disagreement about her approach from an environmental activist, Blake, who who takes her message more seriously that she does. They share the same concerns however and end up in a relationship together.

Using such means, Fouccrolle's opera seeks to provide a wider context and every means at his disposal to draw together the classical warnings and the present crisis. There are plenty of 'sex fiends' in history bringing damage to humanity and mythology is full of them, not least Apollo, so the parallels are well-established and the musical language used for each of the scenes is appropriate and effective. The subject is not exactly a new concern expressed in modern opera - Sivan Eldar's Like Flesh, Tom Coult's Violet, Perocco's Aquagranda - but these are a little more allusive towards the subject and Foucrolle's opera strives to be more direct. It's important but difficult to do that without descending into preachiness. Cassandra does do a lot of telling, quoting statistics and figures on the melting of ice caps, but it tries to present these in an accessible way, looking at classical mythology for additional substance, using a modern couple debating with each other as a way of putting fire into their relationship and the best way of putting the message out there. This might work for some observers, not for others.

The classical story however does add another element, or at least it does in the way it is presented here as overlapping with the modern-day story. Priam and Hecuba are also brought back from the books, now able to reflect on what the plays written about the fall of Troy tell us, now fully aware of the consequences of failing to listen to the warnings of Cassandra. These scenes - which flow seamlessly from a dinner party scene with Sandra's well-to do parents who are more focussed on causes that boost their image and profits doubling up the roles of Priam and Hecuba - is as charged and anguished as you would expect, equally if not as much as a classical retelling, such as in Berlioz's Les Troyens for example. We already have the benefit of hindsight to act as foresight, the opera seems to be telling us, and we don't want future generations to look back on our society incredulous that we failed to heed the obvious present warnings of the fall of civilisation.

Belgian composer Bernard Foccroulle is a former director of La Monnaie in Brussels and the Festival d'Aix-en-Provence. This is his first opera composition and it's an ambitious full-scale work, attempting to encompass a number of styles, each effective for the requirements of the libretto and the message. There's Cassandra past blending into Sandra's present, the drama and music serious on one hand, seeming blithe on the other, reflecting two ways of viewing the subject. If we truly knew what is ahead we wouldn't treat it as a joke, but at the same time, most aren't taking it seriously. Foccroulle tries every means, style and views of these conflicting worlds and tries to replicate it in the music, not least in the strong writing for female voices and the short musical interludes, Scene Four and the final scene for example consisting only of a musical depiction of a swarm of bees.

There is inevitably some banality in the modern sections in the domestic relationships, the language, the swearing, the so-called comedy and in the family crises. There is a point to be made about preserving the world for future generations, but whether the opera and its approach hits the mark or is "bullshit" as is loudly heckled by an "audience member", the point isn't convincingly made. Opera has the power to raise a subject to a higher level, elevate the mere words and drama of a libretto, achieve impact through the music and singing, but it's by no means clear that Jocelyn and Foucroulle's approach to Cassandra will be heeded any more than those unheeded warnings of its title character.

Conducted by Kazushi Ono for the premiere of this new opera at La Monnaie, the music and its effectiveness to the subject and libretto can't be faulted, the fascinating and varied score inviting the audience to listen closer to what is being presented. There is much that is equally impressive in the singing and the stage production, so every effort has been made. A new opera, the singers cast are obviously chosen as perfect for the roles. There are singing and performing challenges here but each is outstanding, Katarina Bradić in particular in a gift of a role as Cassandra, but Sandra is also a large role and is impressively sung by Jessica Niles. I also thought the performances of her mother and father, sung by Susan Bickley and Gidon Saks, doubling as Hecuba and Priam were both terrific, contributing superbly to both sides of the work.

The stage production directed by Marie-Ève Signeyrole with sets by Fabien Teigné also plays an important part in maintaining an connection and fluidity between the 'classical' sections and the modern-day sections, as well as bringing out the underlying context of the climate change debate that is drawn between them. Projections and live filming are used, every means that can enhance the central key imagery of nature and devastation. There are blocks of ice, screens of hexagonal blocks, computer-generated swarms of bees, showing life and nature interwoven and in crisis. It's an impressive looking production, serving the subject, the music and the drama well, or as well as it is possible to do considering the limitations of what the arts can really be expected to contribute to the discussion.

Externa links: La Monnaie streaming, La Monnaie, OperaVision

Gounod - Faust (Dublin, 2023)

Charles Gounod - Faust

Irish National Opera, 2023

Elaine Kelly, Jack Furness, Duke Kim, Nick Dunning, Nicholas Brownlee, Jennifer Davis, Gyula Nagy, Mark Nathan, Gemma Ní Bhriain, Colette McGahon

Gaiety Theatre, Dublin - 1st October 2023

Goethe's Faust brings up some essential and always relevant big questions about the nature of humanity and the meaning of life. The quest for knowledge, love versus lust, science versus religion, war and peace, forgiveness versus revenge, all are considered, as well as the consequences to our actions. Gounod's Faust takes up all these into his opera but seems to have little serious consideration or point to make about any of them and instead focusses almost exclusively on the tragic love story at the centre, and using the rest of the material as colour for some admittedly fantastic dramatic set pieces and thrilling music. That can be enough but it doesn't have to be, and an adventurous production can bring all these elements together into something more coherent and thoughtful. Jack Furness's production for the Irish National Opera at best pays lip-service to some of the bigger questions, but it is ultimately more successful in serving those set pieces with strong musical and singing performances.

The INO Faust at least has a very distinctive look and feel and Furness succeeds in putting the drama across very much in its own way, with little of the obvious traditional period settings. It seems to be set against the beginning of the Great War in the costumes and period detail, but not strictly so, which is enough to give this plenty of mood and menace for the work of the devil to be unleashed. Right from the start it makes its mark, finding a unique way of presenting the tricky transformation scene of Faust from an old man - who nonetheless has a soaring tenor voice - into a younger man followed his renouncement of his studies and his soul along with it, and gives it all up to Mephistopheles in exchange for reliving a life filled with true possibilities. The tenor, Duke Kim, appears as a younger shadow version of an actor playing the aged scientist (Nick Dunning), who is eventually freed from the shackles of his old age.

This works well enough without any real distraction, the older Faust reappearing only now and again as if to remind him of the fate that still awaits him. There is a similar adventurous approach to several of the other key scenes, the simple adaptable set designs moving into place to set mood and background more than serving strictly as literal locations. This allows things to similarly move fluidly with all the quality of a nightmarish flow of time and place, all under the control of Mephistopheles. Mainly there are three large chimneys that look like setting the scene of a dark industry of people working in factories. These turn into ovens that are used in the manufacture of armaments for the war that Valentin is off to fight in with his comrades, the largest one eventually revolving downward to present a huge cannon.

The nature of war is a constant theme throughout, the evidence of Mephistopheles at large in the world or perhaps the misadventures of men of science having consequences far beyond the actions of one man, Faust. The contrasts and ambiguities of war are also reflected in the imagery, with a huge cross made of a rocket bomb and crossed rifles in the church scene where Marguerite is condemned, and there are retina-searing explosive incidents elsewhere. You can't deny that the production makes the necessary impact on such scenes, not least in the arrival of Mephistopheles rising up in a blinding red light from beneath the stage, but right through the Act II drinking song and waltz, the Jewel Song, the soldier's chorus, and the hallucinatory Walpurgis night scene. The production looks great and is particularly well-choreographed in those crowd and choral scenes.

But somehow, as a whole, it never seems to amount to a great deal, and ultimately Gounod's focus on Faust's chase, treatment and abandonment of Marguerite which makes up the bulk of the dramatic thread that ties up the work, overshadows any attempt to draw deeper meaning or resonance out of the subject. It doesn't have to be like that and many productions have striven to overcome the dramatic limitations of the opera (Frank Castorf, Vienna 2021 - being one of the most recent and extreme), but Jack Furness doesn't really push those ideas anywhere interesting. The focus appears to be just to ensure that full justice is done to Gounod's music and there at least there is much to enjoy in the performance at the opening performance at the Gaiety Theatre in Dublin.

The orchestra was very capably handled by Elaine Kelly, capturing the melodic invention of Gounod's score and its dramatic setting. It was the singing however that really stood out here. Arguably, this is an opera made for showing off great singers and the performances here were simply outstanding. South Korean tenor Duke Kim's Faust soared, delivering one of the best performances I've seen in the role, playing off a fine Mephistopheles from Nicholas Brownlee and Jennifer Davis's sympathetic Marguerite. Gyula Nagy was an impressive Valentin, delivering a terrific "Ecoute-moi bien Marguerite" dire warning to his sister. There were no weaknesses anywhere here, with Mark Nathan as Wagner, Gemma Ní Bhriain as Siébel and Colette McGahon rounding out a great cast. You couldn't fail to entertain an audience with that, which - more than trying to draw anything deeper out of Faust - was clearly the intention and successfully achieved.

External Links: Irish National Opera

Saariaho - Innocence (Aix, 2021)

Kaija Saariaho - Innocence

Festival d'Aix-en-Provence, 2021

Susanna Mälkki, Simon Stone, Magdalena Kožená, Sandrine Piau, Tuomas Pursio, Lilian Farahani, Markus Nykänen, Jukka Rasilainen, Lucy Shelton, Vilma Jää, Beate Mordal, Julie Hega, Simon Kluth,Camilo Delgado Díaz, Marina Dumont

ARTE Concert - 10th July 2021

The loss of Kaija Saariaho in June 2023 came as a shock to those who recognised her as one of the most brilliant of contemporary composers. I saw her twice in person, once at the premiere of her opera Only the Sound Remains in Amsterdam in 2016, where she was present in the foyer posing for press photos. It was a surprise however to walk into a coffee shop in Dundalk in Ireland in June 2019 and see her sitting there with her husband Jean-Baptiste Barrière. Even though I knew she was there as a guest for a performance of her works at the Louth Contemporary Music Society's annual two-day summer festival, and Dundalk has seen many famous modern composers appear in town, it still felt strange to see the composer of such sublime music in such an everyday place. I think I made a brief nod and smile of acknowledgement, unwilling to disturb her. The performance of Terra Memoria that evening by the Meta4 string quartet was extraordinary and thrilling.

I greatly admired her music, even though like most contemporary music, you had to search it out and rarely had the opportunity to have it brought to you. For various reasons I never found the time to watch the streaming of Innocence at the Aix-en-Provence festival in 2021 even though I had read good reports about it. Sadly, now that there won't be another, this final work will remain her last contribution to the world of lyric drama and, belatedly taking the opportunity to view it now, the work is even more poignant now, deeply moving and surely a masterpiece, a fine testament to the wondrous complexity of her musical range. The beauty and power of her music is fully evident here, the restless striving to push her music into new ground through the use of unconventional instruments like the kantele and exploring the range of the voice as an instrument.

Innocence is in almost complete contrast to her previous opera Only the Sound Remains. It exudes menace and sorrow from the outset even as the drama opens on the day of a wedding that is a supposedly happy occasion for the bride, the groom and his family. But not everyone is happy, the celebrations tainted, almost overwhelmed by a greater emotion; the shock and horror of the caterer Tereza who has been asked to provide service at the last moment. To her horror, she has just come to the realisation that the eldest son of the family she is working for killed her daughter Markéta along with a number of other children in a gun rampage through a school ten years previously. As she relives the experience, the family are forced to confront the reality that this event cannot be erased or forgotten about.

Going into the opera without knowing what is to take place, there is nonetheless an evident rawness and complexity in the situation, one that is trying to bring together two contrasting events that do not sit well together. The music tries to encapsulate these conflicting sentiments, as well as find a way to suggest that something has taken place that is almost too deeply disturbing and horrific to depict or even speak out loud. It takes a while before the libretto make that realisation explicit, the present and past playing out at the same time, and when it comes it still feels painful, even if it remains too horrific to show with any kind of dramatic realism. And yet, through the music and the direction, it manages to truly get to the heart of the mixed emotions surrounding it in place and time.

Simon Stone is a good director to bring out the complexity of undercurrents and contrasting viewpoints (see his extraordinary Tristan und Isolde, also performed at Aix in 2021) and he finds a creative way of allowing it to work coherently, but it's Saariaho's music, conducted at the premiere by Susanna Mälkki, that really brings it together. The score gets to the heart of the situation and sentiments without resorting to cinematic techniques or the conventional dramatic orchestration that you might expect, but rather with a delicacy and sensitivity of touch, the music plunging deeply into the interior world rather than the external drama.

That's quite a challenge. For a start there is a large cast of individual figures in Sofi Oksanen's original libretto, each of the children international students, speaking in a mix of languages, who each tell their own story while simultaneously living and reliving their experience. Some are now dead, others express fear blended with survivor guilt, constantly questioning how they reacted at the time, how they could possibly have helped. This plays out at the same time and alongside the parents of the killer feeling concern about bringing an innocent new bride into this family, mixed with guilt about their son's actions, questioning whether they are in some way to blame, whether they failed to notice the warning signs, whether they were complicit to one extent or another in what has happened.

Then there is the challenge of exploring the act of the school shooting itself, trying to present a rounded account of the complex motivations that may have lain behind it; was it inspired by racism? was it a terrorist act? and the impossibility of even being able to fully explaining it. The stage shows commemorations taking place simultaneously with the bloodbath, the occasion contaminated by a sense of anger at the tragedy being used and exploited for political gain, with politicians making fake promises of changes to gun laws. The pain of some has value, the pain endured by others none at all, as one of the victims puts it, words and good intentions replacing any real action; nothing will be done, until the next shooting.

The singing has its own complexity, in a multiplicity of languages, English, Finnish, French, Spanish and German are spoken, and even the singing voices have an uncommon range, from background choral voices used as an instrument, to spoken recitative and folk-inspired arrangements on the part of Markéta, the dead daughter of the catering server at the wedding party. The work also captures Saariaho's fascination for time, how it can be subjective, seeming to stretch out when one is bored and in other moments it can feel like time seems to stop. This feeds into how she composes the music for each overlaid and overlayered scene. Time has stopped for some, it is repeating for others, past and present coexist. The music ambitiously attempts to bring this all together, bringing together the experiences of many into the same period of time.

The opera is superbly directed by Simon Stone for the Aix festival. It's not just the concept of the rotating box of rooms and split levels that keep the continuity flowing and scenes overlapping, but much like how the same idea was applied to his Wozzeck, the clarity with which the complexity of the story is allowed to unfold is impressive. The scene of the shooting is horrific enough without it requiring blazing guns, the testimonies from blood-splattered victims and survivors tells the story in its own horrific fashion, but the scene where Tereza confronts the family and the new bride with the deception they have been carrying out, pouring out all the pain she has had to live with is truly harrowing. Nothing however is as clear cut as we would like it to be when it comes to identifying who is a victim. The performances here from Sandrine Piau and Magdalena Kožená is this scene are extraordinary, but then they are both remarkable throughout. The filming for screen is also superb, the close-ups in this scene showing the intensity of the dramatic performances.

The singing is outstanding, Saariaho writing beautifully for the voice with singers clearly chosen as best for the roles and all of them outstanding. Markus Nykänen as Tuomas, the Finnish groom, and Lilian Farahani, his Romanian bride Stela, both give notable performances of great emotion and intensity at the situation they find themselves in. Saariaho is not afraid to use spoken recitation when it is required for its own effect, for the direct expression of the students, rising into singing under the strain of the experience. Choral arrangements of chants and humming vocalisations underline the ambiguity of the unspoken and the inexplicable. The high pitch yelps of Vilma Jää's Finnish folk singing for the dead Markéta takes getting used to but have their part to play also and work effectively for the dramatic purposes of the opera. Combined, it makes Innocence an almost overwhelming experience, for all it takes in, for all it expresses, for it being a work of unparalleled ambition and genius. 

External links: Festival d'Aix-en-Provence

Verdi - Nabucco (Geneva, 2023)

Verdi - Nabucco

Grand Théâtre de Genève, 2023

Antonino Fogliani, Christiane Jatahy, Nicola Alaimo, Saioa Hernández, Riccardo Zanellato, Davide Giusti, Ena Pongrac, Giulia Bolcato, Omar Mancini, William Meinert

OperaVision - 17th June 2023

At my last count I have written reviews of 100 Verdi opera productions, probably more than necessary on La Traviata, Rigoletto and Aida, although I seem to see Don Carlos, Simon Boccanegra, Otello and Macbeth featuring more regularly now. Nabucco I've covered only once in the last 15 years (at Vienna in 2015), but it doesn't seem to be one quite as often performed these days. Which is surprising in some ways but - having watched this Geneva production - not surprising in others. It's surprising since it is 'pure opera' (which is a bit of a vague claim, but I'll try to clarify that), but also unsurprising in the way that it's hard to do anything with it that will allow it to connect with a modern opera audience - if that's not a contradiction with the assertion that it is pure opera. In any case, it strikes me that at least as far as the Brazilian filmmaker and director Christiane Jatahy handles it, the Geneva production of Nabucco comes across as little more than abstract 'pure opera'.

By pure opera, I of course mean classic Italian opera and Verdi is perhaps the greatest proponent of that form of opera, although claims could also be made for Rossini leading the way before him and Puccini taking it further after him. And in those early works at least, it's pure opera in as far as adherence to the conventions of the Italian opera style, where the tailoring of a familiar arrangement of numbers, arias, cabalettas, choruses were arguably more important - or at least as important - as any narrative coherence, message or personal style. Verdi of course had plenty of substance to say and frequently ran into trouble with the censors for his outspoken attacks on religion, politics and his stance on Italian independence, but the emphasis tends to sit more on the individual personal and familial conflicts within the greater scheme of the abuse of power. You can see this in Aida, La Forza del destino, Simon Boccanegra, I due Foscari and many others. It can also be seen in the shift of emphasis in his Shakespearean adaptations, and even the ambitious Don Carlos doesn't quite overcome those challenges of striking the right balance.

It's a format nonetheless that clearly inspired Verdi and gave the composer great material to work with, even when the plot development, weak libretti and inadequate character development forced to meet the conventions of grand opera numbers and expectations of a conservative opera audience didn't allow for any deep exploration of the human experience. Only latterly in his career would Verdi find strong librettists like Arrigo Boito and be presented with material that could measure up to the quality of his musical talent. Nabucco belongs to the power and passion of his early works, never quite satisfying, never really giving the audience much of a challenge. There is certainly plenty for the composer to get his teeth into however in a charged dramatic situation, but it's a lot of sound and fury, signifying not very much. 'Va, pensiero' notwithstanding.

Having failed to find any enthusiasm to put myself through a streamed viewing of Aida at the Bavarian State Opera, abandoning it after 'Celeste Aida' (never a favourite Verdi opera), I thought it might be better watching a Verdi opera I was less familiar with. The Geneva production of Nabucco up there on the OperaVision site seemed ideal, and even though I've only watched the opera once in the last 15 years, I was sure I could follow it without needing to read the synopsis. It's an early Verdi opera after all - written in 1841, only his third opera - and surely not too difficult to follow, particularly as it looked like this production has no intention of being restricted to a Biblical setting. I was however a little bit lost in the opening scenes, but fully enjoying the performance and presentation for the impact alone. This is what I consider to be pure Verdi opera; a lot of highly charged scenes with expression of high romantic melodrama in a setting of religious, political or national conflict. Without really knowing what is at stake, it's enough just to see how the main characters express their struggle to put across the power of the work.

And in some respects that is largely all that the Geneva production does. Avoiding the Biblical Nebuchadnezzar period, it's the kind of production style I personally enjoy; an abstract and timeless spectacle, finding a fairly unique way of presenting a work, not trying too hard to make a statement. It's early Verdi on fire, it's Nabucco and that's enough, a blockbuster writ large for the big screen. The stage production makes use of a camera for live projection of close-ups, a mirror hangs over the proceedings and a shallow pool of water with spotlights permit filmed footage and other special effects. A large cloth robe is draped over the stage that Abigaille will wrap around her in dramatic and regal fashion. The charged situation spills over from the stage, with chorus members arising out of the audience in the stalls, enveloping the theatre in the full Verdi.

All this is very impressively supported by musical direction of the Orchestre de la Suisse Romande under Antonino Fogliani, who captures the straightforward force of the work, but also its dramatic precision. This is an opera and a production to just give yourself over to, which is often what you have to do with Verdi and the rewards can be great. The musical qualities however shouldn't be underestimated, nor the challenges of the singing roles. When you have the right kind of singers who have strength, force and precision, as well as the ability to emotionally engage with these highly charged arias and scenes, the impact is like nothing else. Nabucco offers many such opportunities, and the are well taken. For the Verdian who has tired of the overplayed main three (La Traviata, Aida, Rigoletto), Nabucco (and Macbeth) offer new life for those who just want to experience the classicism of Italian opera in its purest form.

Maybe it's just lazy to say that the production offers nothing more than this; there has clearly been great effort put into every element, from the set design to the orchestration, casting and the singing. After watching the stream, I went back and checked the synopsis, read some background information, listened to the director's presentation and reconsidered the production in that light, but it didn't enlighten or improve my opinion of what I had seen. I enjoyed this purely as a - for me - not-so-familiar Verdi opera given a thoroughly skilled and entertaining performance and presentation. The nature of the modern production in everyday dress allows others to see contemporary application of the themes brought out by this work if they so want to, but you are not obliged to do so.

That's the nature of opera. It's not just notes on a page, it only lives in the moment it is performed, and a modern audience with greater familiarity of the world of opera and history in the following almost 200 years will have an entirely different response to a work like Nabucco than the audience who first saw it performed. Each individual will also respond to an opera differently, speaking to them in different ways. In fact, often it's more successful when a production allows room for personal identification and connection, rather than imposing a strict idea or over-worked concept. Verdi's full-blooded musical scores for the subjects in his early operas often go for the heart rather than for the head, but dealing with basic human emotions and struggles, they are just as capable of touching as deeply with as the grander concepts and philosophical pursuits in Wagner's operas.

Rather than impose a reading beyond the idea of an oppressed people in the abstract, Christiane Jatahy's cinematic techniques served at least to highlight the impassioned performances of the cast. I particularly liked the character that Saioa Hernández brought to Abigaille, with a performance that could pin you to your seat, fully living up to the challenging role Verdi had composed for Giuseppina Strepponi. Having seen her singing impressively in the otherwise weak Verdi opera Attila, this comes as no surprise. There were solid performances for the reliable Italian Verdian singers Nicola Alaimo as Nabucco and Riccardo Zanellato as Zaccaria. Ena Pongrac made a fine impression as Fenena, and Davide Giusti also delivered with the requisite charged singing performance. An excellent cast all-round and, of course, the all-important chorus impressed with their contribution to this work. 

It was conducted well by Antonino Fogliani, who also composed a brief closing intermezzo before a final repeat acapella version of 'Va, pensiero' from the chorus placed all around the Grand Théâtre de Genève. Perhaps they felt the opera lacked the right kind of impact at the finale - and certainly the final act doesn't measure up to the first half of Nabucco - but if you want the audience to leave the with a lasting impression of what it means to live oppressed but unbowed, with Verdi's stirring composition ringing in your head, this serves very well indeed.

External links: Grand Théâtre de Genève, OperaVision

Puccini - Tosca (Belfast, 2023)

Giacomo Puccini - Tosca

Northern Ireland Opera, 2023

Eduardo Strausser, Cameron Menzies, Svetlana Kasyan, Peter Auty, Brendan Collins, Matthew Durkan, Niall Anderson, Aaron O'Hare, Connor Campbell, Paul McQuillan, Mollie Lucas, Alexa Thompson

Grand Opera House, Belfast - 12th September 2023

You can't go wrong with Tosca and not going wrong is important to a company like Northern Ireland Opera, a company trying to get on its feet again after the pandemic, in a time of cuts to arts budgets and with no working Assembly in place in Stormont. Tosca is also a safe bet, like the previous two operas staged by NIO, La Bohème and La Traviata, neither of which inspired me to go and see live opera in my home town. But then it strikes me that NIO are not appealing to an opera audience - which is probably indeed limited here - but, as collaborations with musicals at the Lyric Theatre suggest, aiming to win over a certain class of theatre-going audience. Even then, there is a presumption that even there isn't a large enough audience or budget to put on more than one full scale opera a year. Oliver Mears, who directed the company with a more ambitious programme from 2011 to 2018, might disagree with that, but clearly we are in different times.

Tosca however strikes me as being a good test to judge how successfully an opera company might be able to meet its current challenges. It's a perfectly calibrated drama with music scored for maximum impact on those dramatic points, with carefully placed arias in each act and each act delivering a highly charged emotional climax. The good news is that Cameron Menzies's production rightly went for spectacle and impact and delivered on expectations for this opera. I originally typed 'minimum expectations' there, but I suppose that is subjective and dependent on what you expect from this opera. As far as the majority of the audience are concerned, which is more important, it delivered pure operatic drama. As far as expectations for commercial viability, NIO also delivered four sold out shows. You can't reasonably ask for more than within the current limitations, but there is surely a case for suggesting that four performances of one full-scale opera a year must be considered a bare minimum.

Whatever budget the Northern Ireland Opera had been allocated for Tosca, it was however well used in Niall McKeever's decoration of the elaborate stage set. In the past NIO would take Tosca to site specific locations and a new audience in Derry/Londonderry and bring a meaningful context to the story as a way of illustrating its power. If you're only going to put on one full-length opera a year in Belfast to appeal to a regular theatre-going audience hoping attract future funding, donations and investment, you might as well make it impressive. Act 1 of Tosca does look very impressive, the portrait of the Madonna encased in a huge circular stone frame, looking something like a fresco in the dome of a cathedral. Other than that though, the setting was worryingly unimaginative, sticking close to the original period and stage directions with scaffolding, naves and the Angelotti private chapel. Still, when you have room for the chorus of nuns and altar-boys filling the stage for the Te Deum and the Ulster Orchestra booming it out to the audience, there's no ground for complaint at the effectiveness of the direction here.

Any concerns about this being a staid by-the-book production were put aside as Menzies had more up his sleeve for the sets and continuity between them through Act II and Act III. The surrounding scaffolding remained in place for no meaningful reason other than perhaps for it being difficult to move, but the period is less easily tied down. Scarpia's dining room sits on a raised platform looking like it was fitted by IKEA, with a huge backdrop of a topless woman throwing off what looks like a transparent veil. Visually this worked well, not just to put Scarpa's lust up in the stage (this would hardly be needed considering the expression of the libretto and the score), but it also provided good sightlines so that everyone in the Grand Opera House could get a good view of one of the most powerful scenes in the opera repertoire (not to mention the Act III finale, which is similarly very well staged). This also serves to bring the opera's themes into a more contemporary post-#MeToo age, and there is after all no reason why it should hark back to the troubled history of the province as the Oliver Mears's production did. Different times, different audience, different requirements to achieve the necessary impact. It's not as if Puccini's Tosca was any kind of commentary on police and politics of its time.

Act III likewise found a novel and effective way to present that all-important Castel St. Angelo finale by having Cavaradossi led onto a raised gallows-like platform for execution, the firing squad taking aim from the surrounding scaffolding. The stone circle is present behind this, looking like a deep void into which the heroine plunges at the conclusion. It could hardly be more dramatic. Arguably the scene could hardly fail to be, but I have seen productions where it has been less effective than it should be. The audience were suitably impressed here, and from some reactions I heard, taken totally by surprise.

I wasn't totally won over by the singing. Peter Auty singing Cavaradossi has a beautiful dramatic tenor line, but the challenges of hitting and sustaining the high notes showed. He hit them consistently of course but I found myself wincing and willing him on. Russian soprano Svetlana Kasyan had no trouble with the high notes, sustaining them or projecting them to the back of the opera house, but the accuracy of her notes was inconsistent and I'm afraid the clarity of her diction wasn't strong. Floria Tosca is a big challenge however and Kasyan commanded attention as the diva and in a strong 'Vissi d'arte'. Brendan Collins was an effective Scarpia, never resorting to pantomime bad-guy swaggering, but a bigger baritone voice is needed to really deliver that villainous bile.

Tosca is not just all about love, sex, violence, betrayal and murder between the three major roles, and it's not just a showcase for a leading soprano, tenor and baritone, or at least it doesn't have to be. Personally I enjoyed some of the little touches and smaller roles more than the big ones and Puccini adds plenty of other colour and detail in the likes of the scene stealing chorus Te Deum finale to Act I, although that is hardly what you would call a little touch. Niall Anderson's sacristan and the shepherd heard (and seen) on the streets of Rome at the beginning of Act III (either Mollie Lucas or Alexa Thompson) sang well and it's a credit to the casting and direction that attention was paid to these details.

As it was to the orchestration. It's always a pleasure to hear the Ulster Orchestra play and conducted by Eduardo Strausser, Puccini's score wasn't too shabby about delivering its notorious shocks, musical as well as dramatic. Tosca is a great opera and, albeit with minor misgivings, I enjoyed this performance. It was also nice to see opera at the Grand Opera House in Belfast again - even the touring companies have abandoned us. It would be a shame if we have to wait another year for the next one.

External links: Northern Ireland Opera