Bertrand de Billy / Recenzie

The Paris Opera presented a revival of their own production, directed by Ivo van Hove, which, along with set designs and lighting by Jan Versweyveld, costumes by An D’huys and projections by Christopher Ash, have created a powerful and meaningful adaptation of the famous myth of Don Juan. The production’s use of its theatrical resources is so well-balanced that every scene is a surprise and a thrill to see: something very uncommon in modern performances, where stage effects are often overused, making productions repetitive and tedious. The sets were three concrete buildings with numerous doors, windows and stairs. The buildings were in a constant state of movement throughout the entire first act, but the movement was so slow that it could not be perceived: one only realized that the perspective of the stairs and walls had changed after a while. The effect was subtle but left a terrific impression. In Act two the audience, having grown accustomed to this aspect of the set, received a shock when the Commendatore appeared and the buildings suddenly turned around with great speed, creating a claustrophobic, enclosed space that represented the imprisonment of Don Giovanni. There are projections, used only in this scene, depicting thousands of persons moving. The images enlarge as the scene progresses, to finally show a group of people in the mud moving against each other. The effect was electrifying. Sets and costumes are in grey and light brown, reflecting the moral decay of the protagonist. The buildings appear with curtains, flowers, hanging clothes and plants bursting from their balconies, turning these monolithic concrete abstractions into a naturalistic environment. The concept works fantastically and the effect of the lighting on the constantly moving and changing sets creates a sense of infinite possibilities. Van Hove opted for a naturalistic acting approach, making the several comical moments of the opera believable, as well as Don Giovanni’s final fight to save his soul from damnation. French conductor Bertrand de Billy opted for a fast and frenzied tempi. The agile tempo of the Andante in the Overture marked the rhythm of the whole opera; he was precise with the dynamics and rallentando but always sustained a rapid tempo. This was in accordance with this opera as a whole: a performance Mozart classified as “dramma giocoso”—that is, a “comic play,” as “drama” did not have the sense of tragedy that it would later attain. The overture, the final scene of Act one and Don Giovanni’s dinner in Act two were full of energy. De Billy knew he also had to obtain all the dramatism that the Paris Opera Orchestra could provide, in scenes like the beginning of the Overture, the killing of the Commendatore or the confrontation between Don Giovanni and the Commendatore—and this he executed perfectly. De Billy presented the Vienna version of the opera, which contains a single aria for Don Ottavio—”Dalla sua pace”—an extra buffo duet for Leoporello and Zerlina, and a new recitative for Donna Elvira before her second act aria “Mi tradi quellálma ingrata.” But instead of ending the opera with Don Giovanni descending into hell, de Billy maintained the buffo and moralistic ending of the Prague version with a final ensemble. The Paris Opera orchestra shone in the pit and the choir accomplished its brief appearances with excellence. Overall, it was a splendid, dramatic production with a great cast of singers where the female voices outshone their male colleagues.

Viele schöne Operetten gibt es. Doch die unangefochtene Königin aller Operetten, die sich just zum Jahreswechsel immer einen Stammplatz im Programm der großen Opernhäuser der Welt sichert, ist des Wiener Walzerkönigs komödiantische Fledermaus. An der Wiener Staatsoper in einer bewährten, seit 2011 unveränderten Inszenierung des Regisseurs Otto Schenk, die auf ein nostalgisches Bühnenbild und opulent ausschmückende Requisiten setzt, erlebt sich 2021 ein intensiv prickelnder Musikgenuss mit exquisiten Sängerdarstellern in einer grandiosen Besetzung. In überschwänglicher Champagnerlaune, in der die satanische Unterhaltungssucht der Protagonisten in einem Zusammenspiel von Sentimentalitäten, Frivolitäten und einem lockeren Sittenverständnis verwechslungskomödiantisch zu einer großen Blamage führt, geben sich Sängergrößen wie Rachel-Willis Soerensen, Andreas Schager, Christina Bock sowie Vera-Lotte Boecker und Clemens Unterreiner musikalisch im alten Jahr noch die Ehre.

In the title role, Elena Maximova disappointed. She has the looks and moves for the part, power to burn and the right sort of dark colour in the voice. But a thick accent was allied to awful diction, with hardly a consonant intelligible all evening. I spent the evening struggling to work out the words from a combination of memory and back-translation of the surtitles, and that kills any possibility of being swept away by siren-like sexuality, which is required to make the whole opera plausible. Just like the singing, the orchestral performance was mixed. Bertrand de Billy kept things moving nicely and strings and woodwind gave good, precise performances: the prelude to Act III, when they’re playing on their own, was the orchestral highlight of the evening. But there were simply too many errors and hesitancies in brass and percussion: this is a score where anything less than immaculate timing of triangle or tambourine notes can throw the whole flow of the music. The result was an orchestral performance that was adequate without ever touching greatness. Zambello’s staging is appealing: her take on 19th century Seville is well lit and bustling, very much one’s ideal of a Hispanic city in the burning sun gathered from Zorro movies or elsewhere. But it gives a lot of rope on which a revival director can hang himself: there is a huge amount of movement on stage and it all needs to be executed crisply. Under the revival direction of Duncan Macfarland and choreography of Sirena Tocco, last night’s cast and chorus were good enough to execute it all correctly, but not good enough to give the sense of doing so with abandon. The defining example was extras abseiling down the walls, who landed with care rather than with a thump and a flourish; the exception was the Royal Opera Youth Company, with the children throwing themselves into the action with delightful abandon and brio. For anyone seeing Carmen for the first time, this production will have been a more than satisfactory evening. Old hands hoping to see something extra will find it in Hymel and Car, but not elsewhere.

Kristin Lewis, making her Royal Opera debut as Elisabetta at relatively short notice to replace Krassimira Stoyanova, cut a girlish figure dashing through the snowy forests of Fontainebleu in Act 1. Her soprano was a little cloudy at first, consonants swallowed, and nervousness doubtless played a part in a couple of forgotten words and skipped cues. After a few cranky gear changes between registers, Lewis rose to the challenge of her demanding Act 5 aria “Tu che le vanità” well, with good pianissimo high notes and long phrases blossoming. Christoph Pohl, stepping in at even shorter notice for Ludovic Tézier, made a fine impression as Posa, his noble baritone having just enough bite to wound Philip in their Act 2 confrontation. After a curiously low-key Veil Song, Ekaterina Semenchuk made her mark as Eboli.For a performance which ended a good ten minutes ahead of the advertised timing, Bertrand de Billy's reading felt ponderous in places, the final Carlo—Elisabetta duet in danger of grinding to a complete halt. The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House played well though, the brass on its better behaviour, and the Chorus gave the auto-da-fé plenty of mob mentality. Hopefully individual performances will bed in during the run, but this was an evening where it wasn't just the heretics that failed to catch fire.