Julius Caesar, English National Opera, ENO, London Coliseum, October 2012

As a great fan of recent ENO productions I was hoping for better despite the many negative comments I had heard about this one.

Caesar and dancers, all images ENO/ Robert Workman

Julius Caesar, which deals with Caesar’s visit to Egypt in 47 BC when he was chasing Pompey and met the twenty-one-year old Cleopatra, is one of Handel’s great operas, full of rich melodies and stylistic variation, more so than any of his operas up to that time. Its rhythmic intensity compels movement from the performers, but in this odd production by Michael Keegan-Dolan the singers were mostly left fairly immobile while dancers took over the choreography. This sometimes suited the music and sometimes not, but the main problem is that it detracted from the impact of the singers and didn’t move the drama forward. Temporary losses of surtitles didn’t help, and it was not always easy to catch the words since the singers’ diction was of variable quality.

Ptolemy pours sand on Cleopatra

A more coherent production, with less histrionic waving of pistols, shots being fired, and red paint and even sand being poured over the singers might have helped, but for all that the dancers could do the choreographic content was nugatory. This was a pity because Patricia Bardon as Pompey’s widow Cornelia was a class act. Her singing and vocal expression of grief were outstanding, and counter-tenor Lawrence Zazzo as Julius Caesar had a truly Handelian quality. Tim Mead gave an intriguing and well thought out performance as Cleopatra’s teenage brother Ptolemy XIII, and Anna Christy was an earnest and vocally pretty if lightweight Cleopatra. In this important role she was poorly served by the costumes: her simple white dress and grey cardigan in Act I were frumpy, and her see-through tutu later on looked absurd.

Ptolemy and Cornelia

Christian Curnyn, who collaborated with the director in making various cuts to the music, particularly some of the recitative, conducted with a sure hand for the singers, bringing out the stylistic variety of this work, though the result was a tad lacking in bite. But it was the production that took the soul out of Handel’s masterpiece, and the transformation of Daniela Mack’s fine Sesto to be Cornelia’s daughter rather than her son seemed merely the offspring of a wish to be different.

Among strange opera productions I have seen and disliked, including some defiantly Regietheater ones in Germany, there are some I would be willing to see again in the hope they would reveal interesting though hitherto unnoticed interpretations. This is not one of them.

Performances continue until November 2 — for details click here.

Siegfried, Metropolitan Opera, Met live cinema relay, November 2011

In the final part of the intermission feature from the second interval, as Renee Fleming went to meet Bryn Terfel in his dressing room, he said he was wondering when she would get round to him. Was he feeling left out? Perhaps so, but never mind because in the third act he was superb as the Wanderer. When Siegfried asks, who are you then, who wants to restrain me? Terfel’s lengthy response came over superbly, with a strong focus on Wotan’s psychological angst, ‘wer sie erweckt, wer sie gewänne, machtlos macht’ er mich ewig!‘ (whoever wakes her, whoever wins her, would render me powerless forever!).

Mime and Siegfried, all images Ken Howard

This production by Robert Lepage, brilliantly conducted by Fabio Luisi, brings nuances in the score and the libretto that had previously passed me by, and in Act I, Gerhard Siegel gives one of the finest portrayals of Mime that I have ever seen. After his encounter with the Wanderer, and his failure to ask the one question he really needs answering, he muses on what he has just learned: that only one who knows no fear can kill the dragon. He has already forfeit his head to the Wanderer and knows that Siegfried will lop it off unless he learns fear from the Dragon Fafner. But how can he kill the dragon if he learns fear? “Verfluchte Klemme!” (Damned dilemma!) he sings, and you feel for the poor fellow who has devoted eighteen years to bringing up the boy who will kill the dragon, but will also finish his own ill-fated existence. Gerhard Siegel acts everyone else off the stage, making me think of him as an Asperger’s victim embroiled in teenage fantasies that he can never fulfil.

Siegfried and the Sword

As for the real teenager, Siegfried, Jay Hunter Morris sang the role with huge conviction. There are not many people in the world who can do this well, but their number has just increased by one with this great new Heldentenor, and the intermission features showed he was utterly dedicated and loved what he was doing. He looked the part too, as a Christ-like figure full of spirit, rather than the rambunctious oaf he sometimes appears.

Alberich and the Wanderer

Eric Owens reprised his wonderful Alberich from Rheingold, and Patricia Bardon looked and sang a beautiful Erda, with Deborah Voigt bringing back her Brünnhilde from Walküre. After a mythical eighteen year sleep, and a real absence of over four hours while the other singers have warmed up, or even died, she has to come in with Heil dir, Sonne! Heil dir, Licht! and it’s a tough call. As she began expressing her love for Siegfried, the voice took on more confidence and she was terrific.

Brünnhilde and Siegfried

One of the odd moments in the last scene is when Siegfried loosens the breastplate of the sleeping hero, and cries, Das is kein Mann! This sometimes sounds foolishly naive but the way Jay Hunter Morris tackled it, facing the audience with this revelation, it all made sense. Making sense is a vital feature of this production, and Terfel helped bring out the subtleties of Wotan’s dilemmas. Technically I regret that the shards of the sword looked fake, unlike the eventual sword itself — an important point when you have close-ups on the cinema screen — but the Woodbird flitted around like a well-rehearsed pet animal, and we shall doubtless see more of these clever 3D-projections in other productions.

Das Rheingold, Metropolitan Opera live relay, October 2010

Building a glorious monument with borrowed money is a dangerous business, as many of our politicians have now realised. It’s a lesson they could have learned from Wagner’s Rheingold whose consequences lead to three more operas in the Ring cycle. When the two brothers get their payment for the elaborate folly of Valhalla one kills the other to take the powerful ring, reminding me of recent events in British politics. The brother giants get their payment in treasure stolen from Alberich by Wotan, but Alberich in turn stole it from the Rheinmaidens who were guarding it in the river Rhein. There’s word play in German between Rhein and rein (pure), and although one might regard the Rheinmaidens as pure they are not unsullied by very human failings, and it’s their teasing rejection of Alberich that causes him to forswear love, a necessary precondition for creating the ring from the gold.

 

Giants and Gods, all photos by Ken Howard

 

One cannot help feeling sympathy with Alberich as he cries out, “O Schmerz!” (What pain!), and Eric Owens sang and acted the role brilliantly. His dark, rich voice expressed his anguish and determination, and my only quibble — a really minor one — is that he looked such a nice guy! Truly he was the star of the show, along with Bryn Terfel as Wotan, who managed to look ruthless and show fierce determination to retain the ring after stealing it, until Patricia Bardon as Erda warned him off such nonsense. She was terrific in that small role, looking and singing like a goddess.

 

In Niebelheim, Alberich transformed as a dragon

 

As that other goddess, Wotan’s wife Fricka, Stephanie Blythe sang strongly and gave a warmly human portrayal. Loge, whose schemes let Wotan off the hook he’s made for himself, was well sung by Richard Croft, and I liked the costume and the lighting for him. In fact the whole production, by Robert Lepage, was very well lit by Etienne Boucher with good costume designs by Francois St-Aubin, including those for the giants who were made to look large without using stilts or artificial heads. Franz-Josef Selig and Hans-Peter König as Fasolt and Fafner both gave fine portrayals of these giants, and I loved the way Fasolt turned his head sympathetically as Fricka sang of a woman’s value, Weibes Wonne und Wert.  Fafner was thoroughly menacing, and we shall presumably hear him again in his transformation as the dragon in Siegfried.  Carl Fillion’s set design, with multiple strips of wood that could tilt at various angles was certainly clever, and I liked the placing of the giants at a higher level, and loved the rainbow bridge at the end. This high-tech production sets a standard that will be hard for other opera houses to beat, and I look forward to the broadcast of Walküre next May.

 

Gods ascend the rainbow bridge

 

As to the conducting, it was wonderful to have James Levine back in the pit, and the orchestra played beautifully under his direction.