Past Production Reviews
11The music, conducted by Rene Jacobs, was excellent. From the Akademie Für Alte Musik Berlin, the orchestra maintained a lively and rhythmic pulse, the distinct sounds of Purcell’s instrumentation constant in the midst of the whirligig of activity of actors and singers unrolling the narrative on the stage above them. Continuo too emphasized the constancy of the musical line. The Staatsoper Choir, under the direction of Martin Wright, retained its elegant weight throughout.
La production du Couronnement de Poppée par Eva-Maria Höckmayr l’année passée en fait partie. Le décor unique, un vaste panneau couvrant le fond et le sol de la scène, est d’une brillante couleur dorée au début du spectacle. Dans des costumes néo-baroques, tous les personnages sont en scène : la première idée de la metteuse en scène est d’opposer la stricte rigueur de la cour impériale à la puissance érotique de Poppée. La mise en scène montre avec brio comment Poppée, en pleine conscience du pouvoir que cela lui donne, bouleverse l’ordre établi et instaure dans ce petit monde une loi nouvelle. L’intimité n’est ici qu’une illusion : tout se sait, chacun écoute et regarde, et Poppée en joue à merveille.
When going to any Calixto Bieito production, you can be reasonably sure that normal rules will not apply. When going to his take on Rameau's Platée, which was a pretty off-the-wall number even in its original version as a ballet bouffon in 1745, some level of craziness was even more likely. But nothing quite prepares you for the level of high energy wackiness with which you are assaulted by Bieito and Oper Stuttgart. The fun starts about a third of the way through the overture, when a black-clad figure wanders from the front of the stage round to the railing above the podium, starts making bored gestures at the conductor, and eventually shoves him out of the way and starts enthusiastically conducting the orchestra himself... which he proceeds to do for the rest of the evening, since this is musical director Hans Christoph Bünger. In fact, the one non-wacky part of the evening is the orchestral performance, which is bright, upbeat and sweet-toned throughout. No hint of period instruments here, which provides a reminder that modern instruments can sound just as wonderful when playing Rameau's tuneful and energetic Baroque music as they can on newer material. Platée's premise is that Mercury and various others cook up a plot to reassure Juno about her husband's fidelity by staging a fake wedding between Jupiter and the ugliest nymph they can find: the unfortunate target being the swamp nymph Platée. The amount of play-within-a-play-within-a-play, cross-dressing, doubling up of parts and general opéra-bouffe antics is enough to keep you in a severe state of confusion even when in Row 4 of the audience, and I'm not even going to attempt to give details. But with the staging and singing performances, it didn't really matter. The title role is by a long way the biggest and tenor Thomas Walker gave a bravura performance. The nature of the original voice type, the French haute-contre, is debated by scholars: Walker sang in something like a normal light tenor voice, but stretching upwards into counter-tenor territory with the joins barely audible. His voice was constantly full of character, and he minced around the stage delivering his comic visual gags as if he'd been born in a Victorian music hall. The other big role is "La Folie", who is at the centre of the very long wedding feast divertissement in Act II (Platée was written for the wedding of Louis XV to the apparently rather plain Maria Theresa – the fact that Rameau not only retained his head but subsequently received a royal appointment being testament to the fact that the French royals of the day must have had a sense of humour). Lenneke Ruiten dominated the stage, resplendent in tutu, whiteface, goth eye make-up, with microphone stand and electric guitar (the original calls for a lyre), bringing the house down with a rockstar-style "Bonjouuuuuur, Stuttgart"! She also proceeded to show impeccable Baroque vocal credentials (as, in fact, she had done in the role of L'amour earlier on), sounding clear, strong and flexible. Her rock star aria "Que les plaisirs les plus aimables" was an absolute showstopper. The supporting cast was strong, with no real weak links. I'll single out Lauryna Bendžiūnaitė, with a particularly attractive bell-like voice in her small role as Platée's friend Clarine, and Cyril Auvity, splendid as the conniving Mercury and the poet Thespis (who is supposed to be composing all this as we go). It wouldn't be Bieito if there wasn't any sex on stage, preferably gay sex, and we had plenty of erotic gags ranging from the relatively discreet sight (four bare feet waggling suggestively) to the not-even-slightly-discreet (the largest strap-on penis you are ever likely to see on an operatic stage, with unspeakable things being done with feather dusters), ranging from the quite subtle down to basic toilet humour. I'm fairly neutral about the erotic content – some of it was fun, some of it a bit tedious – plus some staging gags that were merely bizarre, like the Queen Elisabeth II lookalike munching flowers during the wedding. But I really loved the production visuals. Anna Eiermann's costumes were a riot of black, white and gold. Lydia Steier's choreography was constantly entertaining.What really wowed was the staging of the divertissement that followed La Folie's "Que les plaisirs": as the music was taken down to an exquisitely played lyrical slow movement, the hundreds of light bulbs that had been high up and blue (representing Juno's rain storm) turned to a warm, golden light and were lowered to the level of the chorus, who swayed them gently as the music wrapped itself around you. It made for a rare visual and musical treat.It made for a rare visual and musical treat.It made for a rare visual and musical treat. As I close, I muse on my last three operas – the high energy madness of Platée, the tortured psychological existantialism of Szymanowski's Król Roger and the traditional Italian melodrama of La forza del destino – and I can merely marvel at sheer quality and variety of opera on offer these days. We're truly in a golden age of performance.
Graeme Broadbent steals the show as the cynical Satyr who advises the men that marriage will be merely trouble and strife, he projects robust good humour while thrilling us with a gravelly basso profondo. Sky Ingram is a splendid Venus, a magnet for the audience’s attention. Louise Alder’s Eurydice is the pick of the singers for the sublime parts. The set of emotions she has to project isn’t exactly complex, but she puts across Eurydice’s fidelity and despair in an engaging manner, helped by a sweet voice, spot-on intonation and well-turned phrasing.In view of Mary Bevan having a throat infection, the title role was sung by Siobhan Stagg with Bevan acting – the plan is that Stagg will act the role also from the third performance until Bevan’s return. Obviously, having to split the role isn’t ideal, but Bevan put in a sterling effort at mime and Stagg showed that she certainly has the voice for the role. Some of the theatrical tricks worked well. Venus’s transformation into the old crone Alkippe is masterly, and the appearance of the Three Graces in Act II (I won’t give the game away) comes as a real shock. I enjoyed Act III a lot more, when the frantic pace slackened off and we were treated to some truly lovely arias from Stagg’s Orpheus, Alder’s Eurydice and Caitlin Hulcup as Aristaeus - having spent most of the previous two Acts being downtrodden and risible, Hulcup seized her chance to project some real pathos. L’Ormindo, from the same period, by the same company at the same venue, was the best thing I saw last season. Orpheus doesn’t come close to that completeness, but any performance at the Sam Wanamaker is a delight and there’s plenty to enjoy in this production. And it’s worth going out of historical interest alone.
Because the singer for the role of Falke was indisposed, he was replaced by the Eisenstein of the first cast, Peter Bording, who turned out to be the best singer of the entire evening. The fact that he can just step into a different role at a moments notice and make it feel like he has been singing this role all along, is the best indication that he understands the genre perfectly. (translated from the Dutch original)
In dieser Vorstellung übernahm der holländische Bariton Peter Bording die Titelrolle, und stellte mit seinem kräftigen Bariton einen eleganten Figaro dar [...].
Peter Bording is terrific as Figaro. His euphonious voice resembles a young Thomas Hampson and he plays the role with dedication. His duet with Strobos is one of the highlights of the evening.
Peter Bording campe un Figaro incroyablement hâbleur, véloce et charmeur. Doté d’une voix solide et pleine d’abattage, le baryton néerlandais ne fait qu’une bouchée du « Largo al factotum », maîtrisant de manière très satisfaisante le syllabisme vertigineux de cet air célébrissime. On admire également la maîtrise du souffle, impeccable, tandis que l’aigu et le grave se révèlent solides par l’éclat et la stabilité du son. Peter Bording camps an incredibly boastful, fast and charming Figaro. Endowed with a solid voice and full of slaughter, the Dutch baritone makes only one bite of the "Largo al factotum", mastering the vertiginous syllabism of this most famous aria in a very satisfactory manner. One also admires the impeccable mastery of breath control, while both the upper and lower registers of the voice are solid in terms of brightness and stability of sound. (translated from the French original)
The cast reunion led to an evening of fooling around, farcical ánd sophisticated. A vocal celebration about singers and their seductive arts, in which the main story shifts from the barber (the excellent Peter Bording) to Almaviva [...]. (translated from the Dutch original)
