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Musicweb international, 20
September 2009 |
Colin Clarke |
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Don Carlo (1886 Modena version)
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This
is the first revival of the 2008 staging reviewed by Jim Pritchard for Seen
and Heard. Cardboard cut-out trees and “health-and-safety” flames for the
burning of the heretics hardly draw the audience into Verdi’s fiery
masterpiece (the dark scenes at the tomb or in the prison were by far the
most effective, thanks especially to Mark Henderson’s lighting). The job of
drawing the audience into much of the piece, then, goes to the performers
themselves. It is a testament to their dedication, if not uniform success,
that Don Carlo emerged as one of the jewels in Verdi’s crown. There was the
occasional staging faux pas, too: the trees of which the ladies sing in Act
I Scene 2 (a garden outside the monastery gates) were nowhere to be seen:
instead we had a black wall with back-lit red squares.
Of all Verdi’s well-known operas, it is Don Carlo(s) that suffers from a
largest multitude of versions. The Royal Opera laudably decided to give us
Verdi’s last thoughts, from 1886 (the score given in Modena that year).
Christopher Wintle, in an essay in the booklet entitled, “Don Carlos to Don
Carlo (and back)” traces the story of the score’s various transformations.
The Modena version is in five acts and so includes the so-called
“Fontainebleau” act.
The 2008 performances of this opera had the advantage of Antonio Pappano at
the helm. This time, it was Semyon Bychkov, currently Principal Conductor of
the WDR Sinfonieorchester in charge and perhaps better known in mainland
Europe. The ROH orchestra played well for him and he certainly has a sure
hand in the pit, interacting well with his singers. There was only one real
tempo miscalculation, that for King Philip’s great aria, “Ella giammai
m’amò” : Bychkov seemed intent on forcing his way through, not leaving the
excellent Furlanetto enough space to express his anguish, neither in the
opening lines nor in the section beginning “Dormirò sol nal mento regal”.
The resulting superficiality seemed entirely Bychkov’s fault although he
seemed better in the grander moments, shepherding the choruses superbly in
the auto-da-fé. His way with the drama of the preceding scene (Act III Scene
1, the meeting of Carlos and Eboli in the Queen’s Gardens in Madrid) was
likewise masterly, as was the co-ordination of on-stage and off-stage
instrumentalists in Act 1. There were beautiful moments too – the darkening
of the orchestra at the announcement that Elisabetta is to be married to the
King himself rather than Carlos (therefore becoming Queen) in Act I being
just one of them.
The male voices were almost uniformly excellent. This is a fairly
male-dominated opera, and particular care seemed to have been invested in
this aspect of the casting. Jonas Kaufmann’s voice is justifiably lauded,
fairly well universally, and right from his first entrance his expertise was
in evidence. He acts well, his legato is magnificent and the slight edge to
his burnished voice enables him to convey the ardent aspect of Carlo’s
character perfectly. As far as chemistry between Kaufmann and the other
singers is concerned, it is perhaps telling that there was significantly
more of it between him and his Rodrigo than between Carlos and Elisabetta.
Marina Poplavskaya sang this and despite some lovely moments failed to
portray much of its greatness. She came closest to truly living the part in
the final act, where it seemed as if Kaufmann was inspiring her to give her
best. Even there, though, “Tu che la vanità” lacked the stamp of authority
that it so urgently needs. There was more of a spark between Kaufman and
Poplavskaya in Act II Scene 2, but even there one’s ear - and eye - were
continually pulled to Kaufmann.
Simon Keenlyside, one of the UK’s finest and most intelligent singers, took
the role of Rodrigo with true confidence, bolstering up his friend in the
freedom duet (“Dio, che nell’alma infondere”) and truly superb in his scene
with Philip (Keenlyside’s pitching was preternaturally accurate here). The
concentration in this latter scene was palpable. Keenlyside’s aria, “Per me
giunto”, was a model of excellence and carefully considered projection.
Ferrucio Furlanetto (who returns in June 2010 to sing Fiesco in Boccanegra)
was possessed of a huge voice that he deployed with real authority although
it is probably true to state that his singing carried more conviction than
his stage presence.
What a privilege it was to experience Robert Lloyd in action again, here as
Carlos V, his voice carrying the full weight of a world of experience. As
did John Tomlinson, a magnificently physically shaky Grand Inquisitor. The
duet between Tomlinson and and Furlanetto was another highlight of the
evening.
As Eboli, Marianne Cornetti seemed miscast in physical terms (she looked
awkward) yet delivered her “Song of the Veil” very well, with laudable vocal
agility. South African soprano Pumeza Matshikiza was a splendid Tebaldo,
full of energy throughout. The Voice from Heaven was beautifully sung by Eri
Nakamura, a Cardiff Singer of the World finalist in 2009 and member of the
Jette Parker Young Artists Programme since September 2008
The chorus operated on an axis that began at excellent and moved up to
awe-inspiring. If the whole performance was not quite the sum of its parts,
that is mostly down to Bychkov and some reservations about staging do not
help. Even so , one must acknowledge fully that the darker side of this
opera was more than honoured. It is always a privilege to experience this
great work, and it would he a hard heart indeed that left the Royal Opera
House unaffected. |
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