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Operawarhorses.com, 18 October 2008 |
William |
Manon, Chicago, October 15, 2008
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Kaufmann Astonishes, Dessay Enraptures, in McVicar “Manon”: Lyric Opera
of Chicago
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Lyric Opera’s 2008-09 season commenced with
Massenet’s “Manon” in the fascinating David McVicar production, originally
designed for English National Opera in London and subsequently shown in
Barcelona, Auckland, Liege, Houston and Dallas. McVicar, who sticks to the
story and time period of most operas he assays, famously delves into the
sexual conduct at least implied by each opera’s libretto.
Massenet’s most popular opera is a tale of instantaneous sexual attraction
between adolescents, acted on impulsively, with disastrous results, against
a society in which family honor and social conventions are constantly
countervailing forces. That much of that social order is itself decadent and
corrupt is fully evident from the opera’s libretto and score, whether or not
a McVicar is there to accentuate the negative.
Readers of this website know of the high regard I have for the opera, for
productions that display the opera’s abundant drama and passion (such
productions including Vincent Paterson’s for Los Angeles Opera), and for
operatic stars who excel in singing the luxuriously beautiful melodies
Massenet composed and who present the drama convincingly.
Much of this review will concentrate on McVicar’s production, which
emphasized a unit set, the active involvement of the ballet troupe, and, to
a somewhat lesser but still impressive extent, the chorus, in stage business
throughout the opera.
The unit set is basically a slice of the circumference of a circular arena,
with four tiers in which spectators can stand, the action taking place on
the piece of the arena’s adjoining floor. When the Lyric Opera audience
enters the theater, the McVicar sets are in full display. They include small
round tables and long monastery style dining tables.
Several minutes before the house lights dim and conductor Emmanuelle
Villaume takes his place at the podium, characters in 18th century dress
(whom we soon will realize are the 12 members of the opera ballet) begin to
walk about the stage sets, peering at the audience, and constantly fanning
themselves. Occasionally one or more will walk on top of the long tables, or
climb up a ladder leaning against the spectator tiers.
When Villaume does arrive and begins conducting a spirited performance, each
of the 12 fall into a choreographed ballet pantomime. In a McVicar
production, each ballet member and chorister is an individual character
going about his or her business. The choristers who, unlike the ballet
members, never move together in choreographed motions as a single unit,
distribute themselves among the four arena spectator tiers.
But, beyond McVicar’s enchanting conceptualization, the quality of the
singing arguably set new standards for performing Massenet. We become
engrossed in the conversation of two of opera’s most notable “dirty old men”
Guillot de Morfontaine (excellently sung and played by David Cangelosi) and
the Marquis De Bretigny (Jake Gardner).
Most opera companies will cast major character actors in the Guillot and De
Bretigny roles, but we know we are in a special performance when we hear the
quality of singing for the smaller comprimario roles in the bustling first
scene at the Amiens coach stop. Each role is played by a member of the Lyric
Opera’s Ryan Opera Center Young Artists Program - the Innkeeper (Sam
Handley) and the chattering trio of camp followers, Poussette (Andriana
Churchman), Javotte (Kathryn Leemhuis) and Rosette (Katherine Lerner).
Christopher Feigum plays Manon’s cousin, Lescaut. His light baritone was
interesting in the first scene, and proved expansive and affecting for the
more substantive music Lescaut gets to sing in the opera’s later scenes.
The heart of this opera are the lovers - Manon, who appears in all six
scenes and Des Grieux, who appears in five. The team of French soprano
Natalie Dessay and German tenor Jonas Kaufmann raised the performance bar to
a new level - unmatched by even the legendary duo of Beverly Sills and
Nicolai Gedda (whom I saw together at San Francisco Opera, 1971), nor by a
memorable pairing directed by John Copley with Ruth Ann Swenson and Jerry
Hadley (San Francisco Opera, 1998). Nor was this pair exceeded by the
enchanting performances of Anna Netrebko and Rolando Villazon (Los Angeles
Opera, 2006).
Chicago is the first city to hear Kaufmann in this role. The German
tenor, now in his late 30s, possesses a lustrous voice with brilliance at
the top of the tenor range, a beautiful legato, superb vocal control and the
ability to move (seemingly) effortlessly between a projected pianissimo (as
if he were a tenor Tebaldi) and an open voice at full volume.
Massenet provides the music for a great tenor to show his stuff. Kaufmann
sang des Grieux’ great showpieces En fermant les yeux and Ah! fuyez, douce
image with such beauty, intensity of feeling, elegance of execution and
technical skill that it must have occurred to others than myself that this
man from Munich is defining what present day excellence in the French tenor
repertory sounds like.
Kaufmann sings both the Berlioz and Gounod Fausts, and soon will have a
role debut as Romeo in Gounod’s “Romeo et Juliette” at Opera National de
Paris *. But lest he be “pigeon-holed” simply as the emerging contemporary
champion of French opera, he is simultaneously working on a rather different
group of tenor roles - Walther in Wagner’s “Die Meistersinger” and the title
role of Wagner’s “Parsifal” (he has already performed both roles at the
Zurich Opera), as well as the title role of Wagner’s “Lohengrin”, that he is
scheduled to sing at Munich’s Bayerische Staatsoper.
Natalie Dessay’s small stature and school-girl looks make her a natural for
playing a giddy adolescent. But her dainty appearance belies as large a
voice and as accomplished a coloratura technique as one finds in Manon or
similar roles on the opera stages today. She is also a savvy actress who
performs well under McVicar’s intensely detailed stage direction.
McVicar’s ideas constantly impress. At the Amiens coach stop, Dessay’s Manon
sits on her stack of luggage. When she catches the eye of Kaufmann’s des
Grieux, he stumbles into the stack of luggage, almost knocking her off of
it.
In the apartment on the Rue Vivienne, the ballet characters spy on the
lovers, continuously peeping from behind furnishings, even when Manon steps
out of her clothes to take her bath. The Rue Vivienne quartet when Manon
conspires with Bretigny, and Lescaut deceives des Grieux, was effectively
presented.
Like Netrebko in the Los Angeles “Manon”, Dessay performs the aria Adieu,
notre petite table while reclining on the table itself in erotic positions.
When family honor requires the kidnapping of the Chevalier by his own
father, it is more than emotionally traumatic for the errant son. He is
knocked out cold by his abductors.
The father, Comte des Grieux, was wonderfully realized by Raymond Aceto,
whose appearances in French roles are as impressive as his commanding
presence of the Verdian repertory. The Comte’s relatively short appearances
in his three different scenes of the opera become the center of attention
whenever he is onstage. The encounter with Dessay’s Manon was beautifully
and elegantly done.
No part of a McVicar production escapes the attention of the master. The
ballet itself was a fascinating presentation, with a fantastic plot
involving an archer-hunter and his prey. The irony, of course, is that this
lavishly imaginative creation is barely noticed by the person for whom it
was intended.
This being La Belle Epoque French opera, Massenet pulls out all the stops
for an archetypal Saint Sulpice scene of religious sanctity giving way to
sexual abandon. After an affecting scene between the Comte and the
Chevalier, in which the former pitches the idea of marriage and fatherhood
for the Chevalier, and after Kaufmann’s Chevalier sings (Ah! fuyez) his
determination to overcome his memories of Manon, she shows up to wreck his
willpower.
Few modern stage directors, certainly not McVicar, can resist the
juxtaposition of Des Grieux’ line Ne parle pas d’amour ici, c’est un
blaspheme (It’s blasphemy to speak of love in this place - Des Grieux
clasping his hands in prayer in McVicar’s concept) with the two falling
entwined in each others’ arms onto the floor of the sanctuary.
The scene that takes place in the Casino at the Hotel de Transylvanie is
vintage McVicar. The croupier, in a deliciously decadent portrayal by tenor
Rodell Rosel, is surrounded by persons of great wealth and profound
depravity. In what seems to be perfectly natural behavior, virtually all of
the characters of the opera - Guillot, the Chevalier and Manon, Lescaut,
Pousette, Rosette and Javotte, even the Comte des Grieux - appear to
frequent this very edgy place.
Everyone is gambling, and everyone seems intoxicated. One handsome young man
loses everything except his underwear. But he snuggles next to some men who
find his nakedness interesting enough to provide him with some additional
paper money to stuff in his underwear as they delicately stroke his legs.
The moral of “Manon” may well be that it’s not in the interest of persons of
limited means to go out of their way to cross and humiliate persons of
wealth and power. The story ends badly for the lovers, especially for Manon,
although the audience, particularly with this cast, can revel in the
glorious music of the final scene.
Many were involved in this meritorious production, but special mention
should be made of the Set and Costume Designer, Tanya McCallin, who was a
true collaborator on such McVicar ideas as the voyeurism and the concept of
the arena. A special note is the exclusive use of cloth for the costumes of
a kind that existed in the 18th century (no synthetics). Thus, almost all of
the production’s costumes are made of silk.
The McVicar production of this opera with the current cast is
enthusiastically recommended.
*at Teatro La Fenice |
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