Faust, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, September 2011

Covent Garden has a talent for staging nineteenth century operas in sumptuous productions with excellent singers, and this is another fine example.

Gounod’s Faust, with its libretto by Barbier and Carré based on Carré’s earlier play Faust et Marguerite, is loosely fashioned on Goethe’s great work, though it’s hardly Goethe. David McVicar’s production, with its sets by Charles Edwards and costumes by Brigitte Reiffenstuel, all superbly lit by Paule Constable, are wonderfully evocative of the period when this 1859 opera was created. It may be high-brow French pantomime, but many of the scenes are very effective, and Gounod produces some excellent orchestration with a lovely melodic line.

After Dmitri Hvorostovsky sang Avant de quitter ces lieux in Act II the second-night audience roared their applause, and we were treated to glorious singing by an all-star cast. After an unconvincing start as a venerable academic, Vittorio Grigolo sang his heart out as the youthfully revived Faust, and literally bounced onto the stage at the end to take curtain calls. His elegant Marguerite, more debutante than village maiden in this opera, was stylishly portrayed and lyrically sung by Angela Gheorghiu. Add to this the beautiful voice of Michèle Losier in the trouser role of Siebel, and the cast gave a wonderful rendition of the vocal roles, superbly grounded by René Pape as the ever present Mephistopheles, his voice and stage presence giving huge depth to the whole performance.

Conducting by Evelino Pidò gave Gounod’s music just what it needs, and if the stage action is a bit melodramatic . . . well that’s what this opera is, but the whole performance is visually appealing and vocally superb.

The production continues until October 10, though with cast changes for Marguerite and Valentin in some later performances — for details click here.

Tosca, with Gheorghiu, Kaufmann, and Terfel, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, July 2011

The orchestra, under brilliant direction by Antonio Pappano, started with a bang and the tension kept up throughout. Lukas Jakobski made a strong entrance as the escaped prisoner Angelotti, and as he left, Jeremy White came on as a humble Sacristan followed by a madding crowd of children. All very good theatre, before Cavaradossi enters, climbs to his platform, and takes up his paints. Then as I was beginning to daydream I was pulled up short by the voice of a god — Jonas Kaufmann launching into Recondita armonia. This was . . . . well, words fail me. The performance suddenly hit a higher level. Kaufmann was fabulous, well matched by Angela Gheorghiu as Tosca, showing superb quiet notes. This was a woman in love with Cavaradossi, rather than a prima donna, and she kept up the almost understated portrayal throughout. It was very effective.

The Sacristan and children

In this Jonathan Kent production, Act I takes place on two levels and towards the end of the act, as Scarpia is singing near the Attavanti chapel, a crowd of people enter at the upper level. The lighting design by Mark Henderson works particularly well here, and watching the congregation, I noticed the bishop cross himself in time to the music. It’s only a small detail, but getting the details right help a performance come to life — and this was a performance to treasure.

Kaufmann and Terfel

Bryn Terfel’s portrayal of Scarpia showed him to be a thoroughly nasty piece of work, and at the start of Act II we see a man determined to pursue his prey, even though he serves a regime that’s about to fall to Napoleon’s forces. His soliloquies were beautifully delivered, yet when Spoletta — strongly sung by Hubert Francis — enters, Scarpia’s aggressive nature reasserts itself as he knocks the fellow over. Act II swept forward, and the dragging off of Cavaradossi after his Vittoria! Vittoria! was a hugely powerful moment. There were also lovely moments of silence, which helped raise the tension, such as when Ms. Gheorghiu launched into Vissi d’arte. After her beautiful rendering of this aria, Scarpia gave her a slow handclap — a nice touch. Her killing of him, her movements and her placing of the candles, was perfect and I had to remind myself this is an opera and she’s actually gearing everything to musical cues. It all seemed so real I wanted to tell her to get a move on and get away.

With E lucevan le stelle in Act III, Kaufmann started calmly, but by the time he hit the last line E non ho amato mai tanto la vita! (And never have I loved life so much!) his emotion flew from the stage to embrace the audience. The shots from the firing squad sounded like hell, and after Tosca jumped to her death, Spoletta calmly walked forward as the curtain comes down. The menace is still there, and one urgently waits for Napoleon’s forces to arrive.

Pappano’s conducting was nothing short of superb, and a more emotional evening one could not wish for. But one small thing occurred to me during Act I, a mere quibble with the libretto, and I only mention it for Tosca buffs. When Tosca and Cavaradossi agree to meet later she sings E luna piena (the moon is full), but Sardou sets his play specifically on 17 June 1800 when Napoleon’s forces have just won the battle of Marengo. Full moon was on 7 June that year, so the moon would be in the last quarter and have risen only an hour or two before dawn. Yes, I know . . . it’s artistic license, but I’ve never seen this mentioned before, so I thought it worth a comment.

There are only two performances with this cast, so beg, borrow or steal to get a ticket for the final performance on June 17 when the present run of Tosca will close — for more details click here.

Adriana Lecouvreur, Royal Opera, Covent Garden, November 2010

As I took my seat on the first night a young man said to his neighbour that this was better than Puccini. On the other hand I know of someone who walked out of the dress rehearsal at the first interval saying this was not opera. My opinion falls in between such strikingly different reactions.

Gheorghiu and Kaufmann

Covent Garden has not produced Adriana Lecouvreur since its first performances in 1904 and 1906, not long after the Milan premiere of 1902, so I’m delighted they have now put on such a fine production by David McVicar. Sets by Charles Edwards and costumes by Brigitte Reiffenstuel are complemented by Adam Silverman’s lighting, and the effect was excellent. Add to that two principal singers — Angela Gheorghiu and Jonas Kaufmann, both at the top of their game — who sang the same roles in concert at the Deutsche Oper Berlin last month, and we were all set for the best that this opera has to offer. Gheorghiu and Kaufmann were wonderful — she was dramatically terrific, exhibiting a lovely tone, and he sang like a god. They rose to the heights and parsed the quiet passages with superb control. Their duet towards the end of Act II was glorious, and anyone unfamiliar with opera would surely say, “This is opera”.

So much for the answer to one objection — but is it better than Puccini? I don’t think so. Puccini’s work was brilliantly theatrical, but one cannot say the same for this opera: political intrigue, mistaken identity, love triangles, jealousy, and those violets . . . oh, the violets that appear in Acts I and II, and again in deathly form in Act IV. If one of those ‘Konzept’ directors got hold of this, the flowers might be represented by a figment of the unconscious mind, but this is unlikely to happen because Adriana Lecouvreur is not an opera that attracts a multitude of different productions. I think the libretto cannot sustain an abstract production, but fortunately the music is better than the story. It’s pleasingly melodious, and from time to time it sounds as if it may really take off, but never quite does. That’s just the way it is, and no fault of Mark Elder who produced beautiful sounds and admirable tension from the orchestra. The audience were enormously enthusiastic about the singing, which helped create a buzz and must surely have helped inspire the performers.

Along with Gheorghiu and Kaufmann as Adriana and Maurizio, Alessandro Corbelli brought a wonderfully sympathetic dignity to the role of Michonnet the stage manager who loves Adriana, and acts almost as a surrogate father to her. Michaela Schuster sang beautifully in the part of the jealous Princess who sends Adriana the poisoned violets, and Maurizio Muraro sang strongly in the bass role of the Prince, with Bonaventura Bottone delightfully foppish as his servant the Abbé.

Michaela Schuster and Jonas Kaufmann

A wonderful production with superb singing and beautiful sounds from the orchestra. What more could one want? . . . Well, actually  a few cuts might not come amiss in Act III, which I found tedious. They already cut the Prince’s description of his work as an amateur chemist who has discovered a poisonous powder that induces delirium and death when inhaled, though this at least shows how the Princess gets hold of such a strange murder weapon. I would rather see the ballet cut — the music is hardly on the level of the Dance of the Hours, and it was choreographed deliberately as a mockery of bits of classical ballet, such as Ashton’s La Fille mal gardée, with its ribbon dance and cat’s cradle. In the end it was all about the singing, and I’d be glad to see the abandonment of anything that detracts from that.

Further performances are scheduled for November 22, 25, 27 and 30, and December 4, 7, 10, with Angeles Blancas Gulin taking over the role of Adriana on Nov. 25 and Dec. 10, and Olga Borodina taking over as the Princess on Nov. 30 and Dec. 4, 7, 10. For more details click here.

La Rondine, live relay from the Metropolitan Opera in New York, Jan 2009

If this opera were by a lesser composer than Puccini it would be a forgotten work, and indeed the Met has not staged it in 72 years. Its conception arose when Puccini accepted a lucrative contract from Vienna to write an operetta with eight or ten numbers only, the rest to be spoken dialogue. But he rejected the libretto submitted by the Viennese, and the composition of the text was given to the young Giuseppe Adami, who soon afterwards wrote the libretto for Il Tabarro, a dramatically powerful one-act opera. By contrast, La Rondine hovers uneasily between opera and operetta, and although containing some pretty music and technically difficult passages for the soprano, it never really convinces. The story is certainly more appropriate to an operetta: a lively courtesan wants to see what true romance is really like, so she falls in love; but being unable to explain her history to her lover, she reluctantly returns to her life as a courtesan.

It’s a wonderful vehicle for the soprano, and Angela Gheorghiu sang the main role of Magda beautifully, looking and acting the part to perfection. Roberto Alagna sang Ruggero, a newcomer to Paris and the young man she falls in love with. His ardour seemed forceful and shallow at the same time, but this should be judged as an operetta, and when Samuel Ramey, singing the part of Rambaldo, comes on at the end to take Magda back to his life of wealthy frivolity, the superficiality of the story becomes all too apparent. The other love match, between Prunier and Magda’s maid Lisette was well sung by Marius Brenciu and Lisette Oropresa, and she was a delight, hamming the part up to perfection.

The delightful production by Nicolas Joël, with sets by Ezio Frigerio and costumes by Franca Squarciapino, was already staged in London as well as Toulouse and San Francisco, and the young conductor Marco Armiliato, who also directed the Toulouse production, kept things moving and gave the singers plenty of room to express themselves.