Alastair Miles / Рецензии

Die musikalische Leitung des Abends hat Jordan de Souza. Mit sparsamen, sehr deutlichen Gesten hat er das Geschehen immer unter Kontrolle. Die Tempi überzeugen, die Lautstärken dürften noch unter Kontrolle zu bekommen sein. Die Philharmonia Zürich im hochgefahrenen Orchestergraben folgt ihm höchst konzentriert und mit viel Spielfreude. Ein Extra-Lob verdienen die wunderbaren Holzbläser. Der Chor der Oper Zürich absolvierte seine nicht immer einfachen Auftritte mit schönem Klang und bewundernswerter Motivation.

En fosse, avec une alacrité inaccoutumée dans cet ouvrage, le jeune et bouillonnant chef canadien Jordan de Souza dirige une brillante Philharmonia Zürich, aux sonorités contrastées et à la riche palette de nuances. Toute la flamme, l’énergie, la rage et la poésie qu’appelle le chef d’œuvre de Mozart sont ici restituées avec autant de force que de conviction, et la direction musicale n’est ainsi pas la moindre des satisfactions de notre soirée lyrique suisse !

Jarrell, who created his own libretto, gave much thought to the setting of the French language and Racine’s alexandrines; he created a text that was free of the strict classical form of the language while retaining the sense of the original. The libretto for the ninety-minute work, presented in four sequences, was generally clear and apt, combining natural speech rhythms with more elaborate vocal flourishes for musical emphasis and some electronic murmurings from a pre-recorded chorus. There was warmth and a sustained atmosphere of reflective grief in the strings at the opening of the orchestral score, powerfully conducted by Jordan. Guth created athletic and stylized movement for the singers against Christian Schmidt’s classical-style three-room set. As the opera ended, there was a palpable sense of emptiness and despair as the three central characters each ended up in a state of glacial solitude. Racine’s final “hélas” produced a tragic orchestral sigh before a warm reception from the capacity audience

In the title role, the splendid Barbara Hannigan embodies the voice of passion and gives free rein to her emotions with agile and voluble phrasing. The final scene enlightens her personality in a new way, her singing seeming constrained as soon as she submits to the demands of duty. Conversely, Bo Skovhus's majestic Titus expresses himself in long and monotone phrases, his resignation expressed by rigidity of voice. But at times, the emperor allows emotion to swamp him: at this point, the singer shows his most wonderful effects: cries of distress and heavy-breathed sighs. In the pit orchestral profusion heightens the monotony of the voices, its timbre carefully balanced under the baton of Philippe Jordan. Contrasting atmostpheres flow from moving harmonic fields, the breaking of waves or nervous silences that match the dramatic meanderings. None the less, this carefully crafted texture is made from well-proven effects: don't expect the unexpected in this opera. If one's interest is in novel sonic experiences, what's lacking here is the prophetic exaltation which made Jarrell's Cassandre such a success. None the less, the conventionality of the music and the breathlessness of the libretto do not eclipse the merits of a high quality production, served by an unimpeachable cast.