Past Production Reviews
7The set looks airy and minimal, Káťa’s sense of imprisonment and desire for freedom achieved by Alessandro Carletti’s intense use of lighting and high white walls that shut out the world. Three standard visual motifs, drawn from references in the libretto, are brought into play: bird, cage and angel. Magritte’s disturbing birdcage paintings, one of which he pointedly called The Therapist, come to mind. By the end, these symbols have multiplied to the point of distraction. This might irritate more had musical standards not been so outstanding in every quarter, steered by Glyndebourne’s music director, Robin Ticciati.
Michieletto’s production is symbolic and psychological first and foremost. The white set designs by Paolo Fantin suggest an abstract dream space – there is no village or river, only the interior of Kat’a’s mind. Their acute angles are redolent of the kinds of vitrine-like structures that so fascinated Francis Bacon in his paintings; these walls close in on Kat’a at the end of Act one, trapping her in the room with Kabanicha, which then ingeniously segues uninterrupted into the beginning of Act two.
Oreste, taken from Euripides, was the first of the three pasticcio operas (sort of paste-ups) which Handel himself created from his own works. It outlines Oreste’s reunion with his sister Iphigenia (remarkably secure soprano Jennifer Davis) while she is serving as high priestess of Diana in Tauris operating the harsh laws of King Toante (bass Simon Shibambu in crazed dictator mode), which require all strangers to be sacrificed. For Jones, the horrific cruelty of the classics translates easily into a grungy post-apocalyptic world where order has entirely broken down: a tagged urban underbelly where all protagonists wonder in a traumatised daze of psychopathic bloodlust. Acting is strong – we shall surely see more of baritone Gyula Nagy, and soprano Vlada Borovko, who lands in this world like something out of Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and sings with style to match.The eight-strong Southbank Sinfonia under James Hendry impressed, with reliable tempos and much lyricism, and the lower strings relishing every scrunch on offer. But for all the ingenious attention to gruesome detail, it’s not entirely clear what this Handel-Mad Max mash-up really adds to our understanding of either.
In London, Fleming’s colleagues were less consistently good than Fleming herself. Reiffenstuel’s dresses for Alice Coote’s Octavian and Mariandel were not the most becoming the mezzo-soprano has worn on this stage, where she has thus far specialized in male characters. Coote’s singing was often ungainly, frequently with a discomfiting rawness to the tone. The finest exponent of the three main women’s parts was Sophie Bevan, who sang the ingenue role of her namesake to perfection, with a top register to die for.Steinberg’s family-sized sets looked too big on the Covent Garden stage; the Princess’s bedroom and its mammoth collection of dynastic paintings dwarfed the characters. A troublesome feature of Act II was a collection of enormous field guns and an obsession with rifles: in his desire to underline the militarism of his redesignated period, Carsen decided, without any specifics in Hofmannsthal’s text to back it up, that the army supplies that provide the basis of Faninal’s fortune were, in fact, armaments. Act III swapped the original’s dubious suburban inn for a palatial, populous brothel, where Ochs’s assignation with Mariandel almost got lost in the wider sweep of hedonistic goings-on. Overall, Carsen’s direction lacked the detail and focus that can make Der Rosenkavalier profoundly moving. Supplying some, at least, of the missing magic was the conducting of Andris Nelsons, whose enthusiasm for Strauss has already resulted in persuasive Covent Garden performances of Salome and Elektra. Once again his ability to balance super-enriched textures and provide dramatic momentum in a score that needs to be kept on the move paid rich dividends. The Orchestra of the Royal Opera House responded keenly to his confident direction.
Gerard Finley was a different Michonnet from others I’ve seen – more expansive, less of a character actor – but the beauty of his velvet timbre and his lieder singer’s attention to the nuance of the text made him intensely watchable. Each time he portrayed one of the scenes where Michonnet finds himself incapable of declaring his true love to Adriana, I felt the man's wrenching melancholy; his unheeded advice to Adriana not to meddle in the affairs of the great was heartbreaking.Tenor voices are a matter of taste, and I have to admit that in this kind of repertoire, I prefer a darker, more rounded timbre to Brian Jagde’s bright, clear tones. But Jagde tackled the role of the dashing Maurizio with enthusiasm and improved steadily through the evening, at his best in the boisterous relation of his war heroics, “Il russo Mèncikoff”. On the softer side, he was effective in the tenderness of the closing duets as Adriana dies of poison.As ever at Covent Garden, supporting roles were strongly cast, most notably Bálint Szabó’s powerful bass as the Prince. Under Daniel Oren, the Royal Opera Orchestra turned in a solid performance – lacking, perhaps, in the last degree of Puccini-esque sweep and lustrous string timbre, but well paced and sprightly.This production of Adriana Lecouvreur isn't the star vehicle that I'm sure some would like, but it’s a solid, watchable, well put together and well performed production of an opera I love.
The Exterminating Angel is an international co-production, and Tom Cairns's staging scored a hit at last summer's Salzburg Festival. It arrives at the Royal Opera House garnered with critical plaudits and was greeted by the Covent Garden audience with wild approval, so I feel duty-bound to join in. Almost. The composer's orchestrations are undeniably bold and scintillating, and he has the knack of tempering musical challenge with approachability.Christine Rice as the pianist sings with exemplary clarity and expression, whereas Amanda Echalaz as the hostess makes one grateful there are surtitles.There's some above-the-stave virtuosity from Audrey Luna as a high-flying, high-lying opera singer. In places she sounds uncannily like the Ondes Martenot , the electronic instrument of warbling soundwaves that Cynthia Millar plays from one of the side boxe.What exactly is the Exterminating Angel? Adès describes it as an 'absence', although it makes more sense to see it as the thief of free will. We, like the sheep who safely graze as the audience enters, go astray and follow each other blindly towards annihilation. As a parable for our time, that's chilling.
Vratogna is in total command, vocally and dramatically, ever alert to the sinuous subtleties of Verdi’s most flexible score, dark and menacing, and ruthless in his racist determination to destroy his man. He knows instinctively that all devious schemers can present a plausible face to the world while sowing seeds of doubt in malleable minds. Vratogna took over the role just three weeks ago (just as he stepped in as Scarpia three years ago) and it was he, not Kaufmann, who drew and deserved the greatest ovation on opening night.That storm scene introduces another character to the piece in this new production: the set itself. Designer Boris Kudlička has built a clever, shape-shifting tunnel that fragments and slides, lit starkly by Bruno Poet to emphasise Otello’s descent into jealous madness, or bathed in soft, golden hues when hidden rooms and courtyards are revealed behind attractive Moorish tracery. The set both brilliantly frames and comments on the drama, and is suitably ambiguous for a production that consciously moves away from the realism of Moshinsky’s Renaissance world towards an expressionism that more closely reflects Verdi’s most daringly fluid score.The Italian soprano Maria Agresta makes an implacable Desdemona, devastated yet dignified in the face of Otello’s false accusations of adultery and singing with a tender yet creamy intensity, never more so than in Piangea cantando nell’erma landa and her heartfelt Ave Maria, moments before her demise. The Canadian tenor Frédéric Antoun is a lithely elegant Cassio, and among the smaller roles, Estonian mezzo Kai Rüütel as Emilia and Korean bass In Sung Sim really make their mark.
