Frühere Produktionsrezensionen
4Edgar and Edmund’s father, the Duke of Gloucester, mirrors Lear. He is blind to the true feelings his sons’ have for him, and therefore easy to manipulate. Old age has made him vulnerable. Playing the role was the Turkish baritone, Levent Bakirci, who, again mirroring Skovhus’ Lear, looked and sounded much younger. He made an excellent impression nonetheless. His voice possesses an interesting array of colors, which he projects well, with clear, well-focused intonation,
Dating from 2008, the Semperoper’s current production of Rigoletto is quite intriguing. It’s set in what appears to be a swanky 21st-century Berlin apartment – industrial, sparse and effortlessly cool – and in many ways this is an interesting choice. Berlin life is notoriously debaucherous, and this matches well to the Duke’s court in the opera, where sin and vice are not just condoned, but encouraged. There’s also something about the bleak simplicity of the set, which makes it seem almost timeless, emphasising the eternal nature of the emotions played out on stage. Though dying for a man you’ve known for less than a day isn’t something you’d expect from a girl in 2013, the young, unquestioning love of Gilda, the insatiable lust of the Duke, and Rigoletto’s desire for revenge don’t have a sell-by date. In spite of this, the first scene was a disappointment. During the overture Rigoletto comes up from a hole in the stage in a suit, changing into his jester’s costume, helping to emphasis his difficult dual nature: Rigoletto is no fool, he’s just clever enough to act like one. However, the scene which follows – in which we see the madness that is the Duke’s court – is unbelievably tame. The chorus wear animal masks (realistic ones, not masquerade ball style) and rather than creating a visual spectacle of sinful jollity they seem to do little more than stand around and occasionally come slightly closer to each other than would be appropriate in polite 19th-century company. Thus, when Monterone enters and complains of the Duke’s orgies, the meaning is all but completely lost. Giorgio Berrugi is an impressive Duke. He has a very big and even voice, but it’s what he does with it which is most interesting. He finds details in the music which are so often overlooked and really makes the most of this somewhat one-dimensional character. The famous aria “La donna è mobile” is wonderfully sung, with just the right amount of rubato and it never begins to cloy or sound routine as such well known arias can. As Rigoletto, Markus Marquardt is also stunning to listen to, and really delved into Rigoletto’s conflicted character. The Scene II monolgue, where Rigoletto lays his heart bare, was stunningly sung and acted and was one of the evening’s high points. Olesya Golovneva’s Gilda was light and sprightly, contrasting well with the richness of the male leads. Her voice shone throughout, but was always bathed in emotion. You felt her love, you felt her die; it was all there in the colours of her voice. However, perhaps the most impressive thing about the cast was that no one really stood out as a star; they were all equally impressive, and not just the principals. Scott Conner was a wonderfully dark and sinister Sparafucile, and Matthias Henneberg’s Monterone was full of a fearful vengeance which brought the fate and dark magic into the theatre, and all of them had voices to match Berrugi, Golovneva, and Marquardt. It’s rare to see a cast so even, where even the smallest solo is wonderfully sung. This was a very enjoyable Rigoletto in many ways, with singing of the highest calibre. Added to the ever wonderful playing of the Staatskapelle Dresden, this made for a musically satisfying evening. However, I found the production in many ways too tame. In spite of the relocation of time and place, it seemed somewhat conservative. The Duke’s court is a place of sexual depravity, where the Duke’s promiscuity with other men’s wives and his raping of Gilda goes unpunished, an environment which is somewhat lacking in this production.
Bieito’s dark production was staged on an austere but effective set of wooden planks designed by Rebecca Ringst, which opened up for the storm scene. The production was acted with an intensity rarely seen on the opera stage and free of any Regietheater excesses. The division of Lear’s wealth was simply represented by the daughters grabbing their part of a loaf of bread. Goneril and Regan, the sisters from hell, were sung with devastating power by sopranos Ricarda Merbeth and Erika Sunnegårdh on May 23. Both nailed the high tessitura of their roles with exciting accuracy and penetration. The opera is “full on” for much of the evening; vocal climaxes succeed one another with harrowing regularity. The second half of the opera is more reflective, as Lear descends into madness and despair. At fifty-four, Skovhus looked and sounded as young and fit as his daughters. Innocence and reserve come less naturally to the composer’s language, but soprano Annette Dasch achieved glowing beauty as Cordelia. In an evening of remarkable performances, special mention must be made of countertenor Andrew Watts as Edgar, who sang in both chest and head register with outstanding power and stamina, and baritone Lauri Vasar as Gloucester, whose terrifying blinding was managed with consummate skill. This Lear was a big triumph for the entire team and the composer, who were greeted with enthusiasm far beyond the polite reception usually accorded late-twentieth-century works here.
Kristina Mkhitaryan, appearing in Zurich for the first time, is an exquisite Violetta. She turned Hermann’s portrayal into her own; she was desperate to host a party in Act I without cracking up, she was taken aback by Liparit Avetisyan’s Alfredo as he offered unwelcome and genuine love, and she was launched into brief and nescient bliss in Act II in her untenable household. Be it said that Mkhitaryan’s topmost coloratura flirted with harshness on this evening, and that her ‘Sempre libera’ high E flat was ever so briefly pinged before she eagerly descended back to safety. Yet even would-be blemishes served her portrayal – more vocal confidence would have undercut her Violetta’s uncertain rage and tantrums. (This Violetta hits on waiters at her banquet when confronted with her implicit demise.) Mkhitaryan is otherwise sumptuous: lithe Italian, mature control of dynamics, and a way of inhabiting each line and phrase, giving it all real meaning. She managed to deliver three distinct stages of life over three acts by means of subtle stylistic variation. Do I have to mention how hard that is?
