Carlos Ullán / Recensioner

The six soloists demonstrate, both on stage and on screen, solid acting skills and seem to have obviously taken a certain pleasure in recording the making of projected on the background screen. The disarticulated triptych formed by the parents and the daughter concentrates an important part of the dramatic action. At its head, soprano Sabrina Cirera (Rosine) develops the dry, strong but pitted voice of a hysterical, indecisive and authoritarian mother. Equipped with an elegant vibrato, its colors are tapered and held with ease. The tenor Carlos Ullán uses a high voice, tense as of an animated and inspired theatrical game to plant the embittered character of the father (Alfred) and his relational discomfort, stuck between his wife and his daughter. Laura Pisani's performanceis noticed as much by her limpid and bittersweet inflections as by the virginal freshness of her soprano voice (supposed to be that of Antoinette, a teenager) which imprints her character's gaze on her family and, more generally, on the work itself. From where this good-natured impression which emerges and authorizes laughter, even if the cruelty of the child, animated by hatred towards his parents, sometimes has the appearance of a game of massacre towards them. This trio sees three other characters revolving around him who share their daily life: the mezzo-soprano Alejandra Malvino is Miss Betty, the Teacher, and has a high, bright and clear voice. The timbre, playing on fine nuances in the phrasing, is pleasant and varied depending on the situation. Víctor torressings the role of Georges, the Butler who has a relationship with Betty unmasked by Antoinette. He vibrates his baritone voice, deep, wide and ample, to show his bows and his double playing. The soprano Marisú Pavón finally plays Isabelle, Piano teacher and Antoinette's aunt. The voice of her character, deliberately erratic and tumultuous, is leaping, sometimes strident: it is that of an ironic and caustic gossip. It should be noted that this vocal plateau does not shine by its pronunciation of French: the spectator even takes a certain time before guessing which language the libretto is. The great Hall of the Colón , packed, reserves a very contrasting and unadulterated welcome to this spectacle which leaves no one indifferent, between angry premature desertion and prolonged sustained applause.