From Seen and Heard International
By: José M Irurzun; Pictures © Antoni Bofill

Soloists, Orquestra Simfònica and Chorus Gran Teatre del Liceu. Conductor: Yves Abel., Gran Teatre del Liceu de Barcelona. 9 & 10.03.2010 (JMI)

New Production based on the original co-production from New York Metropolitan, London’s Royal Opera and Vienna Staatsoper.

La Fille du Régiment has not been a frequent visitor to Barcelona’s Liceu. Its last outing there was in 1993, as a showcase for Edita Gruberova in the title role. Most opera-lovers would agree that this opera is not programmed for its intrinsic musical qualities, but rather as a vehicle for at least one great singer. If the last occasion the Liceu featured this work was for the Slovak diva, this time the presence of the work was assured the Peruvian idol Juan Diego Flórez.

Wherever he goes this great tenor is guaranteed a palpably triumphant atmosphere. The Liceu event was no exception. Success was in the bag before anybody even began to sing. After a little more than accurately played overture the first cheers, although quite sparse, could be heard in the theatre. The problem is that some people come to the opera with a full complement of “bravos” but lack the judgement to know how or when to unload them. “Tal dei tempi è i costume” (Carlo Gerard dixit).

The Laurent Pelly production was announced as a new item, which is rather strange, since this work has in recent years been present in many of the most important opera houses in the world, always with Juan Diego Flórez as Tonio. I guess that the Liceu had built fresh sets, but there is noting new in the production apart from a speckle of fresh touches in the final act around the figure of La Duchesse de Crakentorp. The last performance of this production at the Metropolitan took place on 22 February 2010, while the premiere in Barcelona was on 7 March 2010. There was precious little time for transport and rehearsals.

Laurent Pelly moved the action into World War I and this has had a very good reception, both from audiences and critics, since its premiere in Covent Garden in January 2007. Mr. Pelly does outstanding stage-work, in particular in the way he uses the choir and extras. It should be noted that he draws fine collaboration from all the singers, who have a great time on stage and this is immediately transmitted to the audience. When so often we have to attend so-called conceptual productions or encounter the work of directors who pay attention only to aesthetics, it is all the more praiseworthy when we come up against the work of a true man of the theatre who puts his job and imagination at the service of the opera. Pelly’s sets are quite simple, consisting of a very rich room (no walls) in Act II and a few mountain-dominated maps of Europe. What stands out above all else is Pelly’s great stage direction, full of imagination and gags that win the laughter of the public. Particularly notable is the appearance of the Regiment in the final scene with a tank and Tonio at the top. Then there’s the final presentation on stage during the last ensemble “Salut à la France” dominated by a huge painted cock which puts an end to the opera with his “Kikirikí!” or “cock-a-doodle-doo!”.
(more…)

From Seen and Heard International
By:James L. Zychowicz
Soloists, Chorus and Orchestra of Lyric Opera of Chicago, Sir Andrew Davis (conductor) Civic Opera House, Chicago, 20.2.2010 (JLZ).

The Part III Set – Photograph © Dan Rest

Lyric Opera of Chicago’s new production of Hector Berlioz’s La Damnation de Faust marks the first performance of this work in the company’s repertoire. This work, which its composer called a légende dramatique and initially conceived as a concert opera, has been revived in recent years in innovative productions on the stages of various opera houses, a change from what had been its customary venue in concert halls. In fact, Lyric’s production combines conventional staging with various projections to support Berlioz’s highly connotative work. While it is possible to appreciate a reference in the text of the work and even to apprehend the tone painting in the score, the production makes some of the references come to life on stage.

Set and costume designer George Souglides presents this version of the Faust legend in a twentieth-century milieu. Faust is first shown at a computer desk in a confining cubicle raised high on the stage and framed in light, as if it were a cel in a filmed graphic novel. Yet when the scene shifts to Faust’s experience of the peasants merrymaking, his raised set comes down to the stage, were the crowd is a made up of various sets of identically costumed people having a picnic. The costumes for this scene appear to be from the 1960s, predating Faust’s cubicle in the opening scene. This picnic scene then dissolves into the advancing military, as male dancers in fatigues with red berets dominate the set. They are soon joined by blond women in sweaters, who carry flags which suggest the red-gold-black colors of Germany, but with a medieval-style emblem in the center.

When the work moves to Brander’s scene, the traditional cellar is replaced by a high-tech disco, with banks of glaring lights. The dais in the center of the disco is the setting for a public display of pole-dancing, also suggesting a crucifixion, since the vertical pole intersects with one of the horizontal rows of lights. For this scene the women entertaining at the disco are dressed as large-breasted rodents, whose tails can be fondled by the men in the on-stage audience. Brander himself is costumed as a ghoul, suggesting that he may have already sealed some diabolic pact, a drastically different view of singer Christian Van Horn to his usual appearances on this stage.

When Marguerite appears, she has a 1960s style hairdo, and the flat she shares with her aged mother is a three-room affair that opens to a balcony. The living room with television is next to Marguerite’s rather dated-looking bedroom with its patterned wallpaper, dresser photos in standing frames, and its own crucifix. It has the look of a Kubrick film, and the lack of solid walls between the staged spaces allows the supernatural character of Méphistophélès to move between the chambers seemingly by magic. Marguerite’s neighbors, when they appear, emerge from various doors under her flat, and their costumes suggest a group of middle-aged or older couples roused from sleep – or perhaps some sort of nocturnal cleaning activity, since most of are carrying or wearing blue latex gloves.
(more…)

Met’s Carmen Telecast Matches Radio’s Vocal Performances

Now that interviews with the singers have become an important intermission feature of the Met’s HD Telecasts, the viewing audience gets to meet the artists as they come off stage right after their performances. At the Encore Telecast of Carmen on February 3rd, it happened to be after Act Two, which stood out not only for the heated drama mezzo-soprano Elina Garanca and tenor Roberto Alagna created as the doomed lovers, but for Alagna’s botched high note taken piano instead of forte as written at the end of La fleur que tu m’avais jetée, in Don José’s rapturous love song. The interview did not go as originally planned, but since the Met’s General Manager Peter Gelb wanted the audience to have immediate contact with his “stars,” the audience listened patiently as Alagna spoke of his vocal mishap in what surely was an embarrassing moment for the tenor. It is now becoming a question of how many of these “live” interviews the viewers have to sit through during these telecasts.

But Richard Eyre’s new production of composer Georges Bizet masterpiece has turned out to be the hit of the Met opera season so far. In the January 2010 issue of Opera News, the British director described that he and set and costume designer Rob Howell wanted to give the opera a grittier feel by moving the story from 19th Century Spain up to a “period a century forward to the 1930s, the fascist Franco era.” Howell was able to deliver on Eyre’s vision by creating, “a circular architectural space on the Met’s rotating stage” with a unit set that suggested “the ruins of a city wall, perhaps after a bombing.” Also, Eyre was able to add “psychological depth and social realism” with the cast he put together.

Alagna may not have achieved all that he wanted vocally with his Don Jose, but physically and dramatically the tenor delivered an emotionally disturbed character whose possessive love for Carmen could only lead to their destruction. Even though this was a new production for Alagna and Garanca, they looked entirely comfortable in their respective roles, likely because they sang Carmen and Don José in Europe before they came to the Met.

Garanca’s physical carriage as Carmen coincided with her vocal performance on the radio. The role posed no problems vocally, and she produced an even sound throughout her vocal range, but still she lacked the piquant nasal sound that French native speakers bring to the text. But her interpretation was unique. Garanca presented Carmen as an independent woman who showed annoyance with anyone trying to claim her love without her full consent. She also took her physical attraction to men as a given; the mezzo, even with her blue eyes, presented a warm, alluring Carmen; this no-nonsense Carmencita could have any pick of the litter.

The Act Four duet between Carmen and Don José was a dramatic standout for the couple. Alagna’s José, a volatile composite of jealousy, rage and mental instability appropriately did not mix with Garanca’s determination to be rid of José as a lover and ready to take on a new amorous adventure with the toreador Escamillo. The reason for their exciting delivery in this last scene was the dramatic harmony of their vocal strengths and emotional eruptions.
(more…)