Reseñas de producciones pasadas
14This weekend I saw the ENO’s production of Nico Muhly’s Marnie. Based on a novel by Winston Graham which later became a Hitchcock film, the story is full of suspense and drama. Visually beautiful and very cleverly staged, using moving set pieces and projections to provide film-like transitions between scenes, the production was rich to look at, full of eye-catching tableaus and scenes. The costuming was very effective as well, particularly on Marnie herself and her quartet of Shadow Marnies who followed her throughout the show.
La version lyrique de Nico Muhly, coproduction entre l’English National Opera et le Metropolitan Opera de New York, est plus compatissante envers Marnie que le film, et se rapproche davantage du livre original. La voleuse est ici victime, et affirme que nous, êtres humains, incarnons constamment des personnages distincts selon notre environnement. La mise en scène entoure donc la protagoniste de quatre « ombres » (Charlotte Beament, Katie Coventry, Emma Kerr and Katie Stevenson), qui révèlent plusieurs facettes de sa personnalité. Quatre danseurs en costumes de bureau apparaissent à intervalles réguliers dans des chorégraphies très saccadées, pour représenter l’emprise masculine et les forces qui se jouent contre elle. Au cours d’une croisière, ils se placent autour de son lit et rappellent les « hommes aux costumes gris » dont la Princesse Diana parlait régulièrement.
That's one side of the oppressive force in the society that Salome has been brought up in. The other is the religious moralising of the prophet Jokanaan, whose mystical imagery and phrasing presents an authoritative and attractive alternative, but Salome comes to find it also prohibitive. Disdainful of the earthly treasures promised by Herod, attracted to the condemnation of her despised step-father and his corrupt, vice-ridden world, and aroused by the alluring promises of Jokanaan (something that is very much brought out in the resonant bass register of the role), Salome reacts violently when neither of these patriarchal structures offer her any personal expression or freedom, but rather seek to further enslave her and any like-minded women with their own strong sense of identity and desires.
Ninguna versión de concierto con tenor y barítono detrás de un atril y en medio de una orquesta puede satisfacer del todo el significado de este momento. Aquí se necesita una escena como la propuesta por Kramer: semi vacía, cubierta de nieve con una tumba abierta y un coro tímidamente intrusivo a los costados, y dos hombres mirándose primero con asombro y angustia, después con tierna admiración y finalmente tomados de la mano. Hasta este momento, el barítono y el tenor se habían movido no solo como enemigos el uno de otro, sino con una perplejidad que traicionaba la enemistad interna, la que cada uno tenía consigo mismo.
ENO’s excellence with technology, demonstrated on multiple occasions, is once more on display here. Massive screens display anti-war propaganda, an appeal from Srebrenica (fleshed out by an essay, ‘Kada Hotić – Seamstress of Srebrenica’ in the exceptionally lavish programme booklet) alongside scenes of the utmost violence mirrored by the blind violence of today’s football hooligans. Nature also plays a huge part in the visual display, as do Tilmans’s photos of Coventry Cathedral (for whose re-consecration the War Requiem was written; as was, of course, Bliss’s Beatitudes).
The prospect of Natalya Romaniw making her role debut as Cio-Cio-san at English National Opera has given the latest revival of Anthony Minghella’s 2005 production of Madam Butterfly an added flutter. The Welsh soprano has been building an impressive career in bringing opera’s tragic women to life in a startlingly vivid way; the uniquely awful story of the heart-broken Japanese girl who commits ritual suicide – albeit inauthentically – was always likely to be movingly depicted in Romaniw’s hands and indeed this was an absolute triumph.
This is the third or fourth time I have seen Anthony Minghella's stunningly gorgeous production of Puccini's Madam Butterfly at the London Coliseum and in many ways it is the best. Revival director Glen Sheppard has made some delightful tweaks that make Minghella's vision even more effective and the title role is sung by Welsh soprano Natalya Romaniw in gloriously impressive style.
Mimi’s sickbed is the floor of her transit van. Rodolfo sits hunched against a wheel outside, the closest he dare get to his dying lover. Musetta makes her showy arrival in a convertible Merc, and an old ice-cream van serves as the Cafe Momus. Trailer-trash stagings are nothing new – many an old camper van has been rolled on to an operatic stage – but here we’re in a proper car park, this unparalleled season’s venue of choice for high art.
A feature of this La bohème is that some characters come up or down from the stage or roam around the parked cars and indeed Rodolfo’s first entrance is when he cycles back from his part-time job delivering takeaways. He hopes to be a playwright but earns additional money writing newspaper reviews. Home isn’t a Parisian garret but a Volkswagen campervan in a car park much the same as the opera was being performed in. It is surrounded by a couple of others and appears to be part of a commune of some sort peopled by those at the fringes of society.
Nicky Spence rings out like a heroic peal of bells as Siegmund. Emma Bell’s Sieglinde, in jeans and a tee-shirt, was the abused wife from The 39 Steps, welcoming a stranger (here with an industrial-sized jerry of water). Like Brünnhilde, a decent woman surrounded by vile men. The siblings work well together, despite schematic direction which initially has them moving like the figures in a German weather house.
