11/10/2012
Swayed by the murmurs about its "classic" status, I went to ENO's Magic Flute, worried that I might miss its final outing. Obviously nostalgia has tinted the spectacles of the chorus of sighing admirers, as Hytner's production is about as literal and vanilla (read: plain) as you can get. Maybe all those aeons ago when Noah was loading the Papagenos onto the arc, this may have been original and illuminating as a take on Mozart's most elusive opera, but it never once seeks to interpret what the piece might mean beyond the most general and literal "light and dark" metaphors. True to its roots in Singspiel, Die Zauberflote is an evening of pure entertainment dressed up in dubious philosophical garb: whatever the higher intention of the work's creators, the plot and Schikaneder's libretto are very, very silly, and that Mozart responds to it with music of such noble warmth, charm and beauty is a difficult thing to reconcile artistically. But there has to be an attempt!
In this production (perhaps only this revival?) there is clumsiness everywhere: the single set creaks and squeals as it shifts; characters say farewell and then exit via the same door; they gain, lose, and regain items of costume without reasonable explanation; sound effects regularly interfere with the music and sound shoddy and unconvincing. The acting would seem crass and hammy if witnessed in a Christmas panto, with the most exaggerated and laboured use of silly voices and accents, ridiculously clichéd delivery of serious lines and ceaselessly bad comedic timing such that real sentiment and believable characterisation are studiously (and successfully) avoided.
Vocally at least, things were much better. Most treasurable is Elena Xanthoudakis whose ultra shiny and youthfully pure soprano is absolutely ideal for Pamina. She sounded best when she let herself go a bit volume wise, easily filling the Coliseum's dry acoustics with silvery ribbons of legato. Duncan Rock was an impressive Papageno, with his beefy, rich baritone ringing out clearly if not always subtly, though he was guilty of the biggest excesses acting wise. I often found myself cringing at his delivery of the spoken dialogue. Robert Lloyd's voice is still impressively massive and rich and deep (I can't quite believe that he's sounding this good at 72!) but it has crept almost entirely into his nose. (My companion quipped: Is there actually any sound coming out of his mouth?). Kathryn Lewek as The Queen of the Night sounded very beautiful in her Act I aria, though the voice is very much on the small side for this role. Unfortunately she was slightly out of tune in the iconic high flying passages of Der Holle Rache, with unsupported, thin high notes. Roland Wood revealed a wonderful bass-baritone in the small role of the Speaker - let's get him back soon please! Shawn Mathey's Tamino was the cast's weakest link, sounding a little hoarse and with appallingly wooden acting.
In the opening minutes of the overture I thought we were in for a very special night from the pit as conductor Nicholas Collon seemed to be getting a very lovely and clean, though warm HIP sound out of the ENO orchestra. Unfortunately it remained merely pleasant, lacking sufficient contrast in dynamics or colour, and not enough body in the sound to really support the singers. The biggest casualty was Pamina's Ach, ich fuhl's which was played secco and as a result completely failed to move. A more fundamental problem was the very frequent coordination issues between the pit and stage with singers regularly getting ahead of the orchestra. A little disappointing and I'm mystified by the misty-eyed reverence that this production inspires!
Showing posts with label Elena Xanthoudakis. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Elena Xanthoudakis. Show all posts
Saturday, 13 October 2012
Wednesday, 6 June 2012
La Cenerentola at Glyndebourne
28/05/2012
Glyndebourne's La Cenerentola is so vanilla that it almost hurts. The final scene is absolutely magnificently simple (Cenerentola sings her monologue facing the audience bathed in light, in a gold dress. What could be better!?) but the rest is just plain. It's regency costumes and cartoonishly plain period sets all the way (by Moritz Junge and Hildegard Bechtler respectively). No attempt at interpretation is made, nothing about what the opera might mean, we're just presented the story as it is - which some people will breathe a sigh of relief to, but those with more searching minds will feel slightly exasperated as the plot is so thin.
La Cenerentola has two problems as far as I'm concerned. The first is that there is plot, but no drama. Things happen in an order, but there's really very little tension or conflict - the step sisters and father aren't that evil, Cinderella and the prince fall in love within 20 minutes of the opera's start, and we are repeatedly told in the first scene that her life is going to change dramatically. We all know what happens in the story of Cinderella, but so do we know in La Traviata or Salome - that doesn't mean we don't get drawn into the plot each time (ideally speaking of course).
The second is that the score doesn't quite offer the cornucopia of delights that the very best Rossini operas offer, where number after number delights and glistens. This brilliance can save the thinnest plot (Armida and especially Viaggio a Reims), but Cenerentola doesn't get enough chances to really sing until the end, where she should obviously be the musical centre of the work. There is of course much to love for admirers and lovers of Rossini's music such as myself - the overture, the lovely little tune that Cinderella keeps humming, the glittering ensembles and the amazing finale.
There are other challenges to staging this opera too. So much of the text is internal monologue/asides. Peter Hall has every single one of these addressed directly at the audience, so the fourth wall is constantly broken. The ensembles all end up as dreamy moments of stasis where the characters go out of character and weave around each other in surprise or shock or confusion as the situation requires. It's a solution, but it does get a little tired, and means that the characters just fail to have any inner life whatsoever. Absolutely no explanation or exploration is offered of the interesting character of Alidoro, the fairy god mother figure in this opera. It's not bad, and just about maintains interest, but surely we can expect a little more?
I first heard Elizabeth DeShong in the ENO's Lucrezia Borgia last season in the role of Orsini and was blown away by the richness and evenness of the voice. This performance only confirmed my expectations, and expanded my admiration as she is very adept at the coloratura too. The problem is, that the voice is so beefy at the bottom, so much gorgeous chest register singing, that she never for one second sounds like a victim that say Von Stade could so movingly affect. The top has that shiny fullness that is usually the reserve of true altos... I love this voice! Dramatically she was best in the final scene, where despite her small stature, had real poise and presence as a noble figure - more roles like this please.
The rest of the cast were very good too. Taylor Stayton as Prince Ramiro is one of the few tenors who can actually sing the coloratura properly, and his small sweet voice never outstayed its welcome. Umberto Chiummo was a slightly camp (shades of Dale Winton) but equally well sung Don Magnifico, again a luxury to hear such clean coloratura in a baritone, though he doesn't quite have the low notes for this role. Elena Xanthoudakis made a magnetically horrible Clorinda and sang her small part well. The rest of the cast I had no complaints about either (how unusual!)
James Gaffigen conducted the London Philharmonic Orchestra expertly - this was excellent Rossinian style, beautifully coloured string playing, all as clean and accurate as Rossini needs to be to shine.
Glyndebourne's La Cenerentola is so vanilla that it almost hurts. The final scene is absolutely magnificently simple (Cenerentola sings her monologue facing the audience bathed in light, in a gold dress. What could be better!?) but the rest is just plain. It's regency costumes and cartoonishly plain period sets all the way (by Moritz Junge and Hildegard Bechtler respectively). No attempt at interpretation is made, nothing about what the opera might mean, we're just presented the story as it is - which some people will breathe a sigh of relief to, but those with more searching minds will feel slightly exasperated as the plot is so thin.
La Cenerentola has two problems as far as I'm concerned. The first is that there is plot, but no drama. Things happen in an order, but there's really very little tension or conflict - the step sisters and father aren't that evil, Cinderella and the prince fall in love within 20 minutes of the opera's start, and we are repeatedly told in the first scene that her life is going to change dramatically. We all know what happens in the story of Cinderella, but so do we know in La Traviata or Salome - that doesn't mean we don't get drawn into the plot each time (ideally speaking of course).
The second is that the score doesn't quite offer the cornucopia of delights that the very best Rossini operas offer, where number after number delights and glistens. This brilliance can save the thinnest plot (Armida and especially Viaggio a Reims), but Cenerentola doesn't get enough chances to really sing until the end, where she should obviously be the musical centre of the work. There is of course much to love for admirers and lovers of Rossini's music such as myself - the overture, the lovely little tune that Cinderella keeps humming, the glittering ensembles and the amazing finale.
There are other challenges to staging this opera too. So much of the text is internal monologue/asides. Peter Hall has every single one of these addressed directly at the audience, so the fourth wall is constantly broken. The ensembles all end up as dreamy moments of stasis where the characters go out of character and weave around each other in surprise or shock or confusion as the situation requires. It's a solution, but it does get a little tired, and means that the characters just fail to have any inner life whatsoever. Absolutely no explanation or exploration is offered of the interesting character of Alidoro, the fairy god mother figure in this opera. It's not bad, and just about maintains interest, but surely we can expect a little more?
I first heard Elizabeth DeShong in the ENO's Lucrezia Borgia last season in the role of Orsini and was blown away by the richness and evenness of the voice. This performance only confirmed my expectations, and expanded my admiration as she is very adept at the coloratura too. The problem is, that the voice is so beefy at the bottom, so much gorgeous chest register singing, that she never for one second sounds like a victim that say Von Stade could so movingly affect. The top has that shiny fullness that is usually the reserve of true altos... I love this voice! Dramatically she was best in the final scene, where despite her small stature, had real poise and presence as a noble figure - more roles like this please.
The rest of the cast were very good too. Taylor Stayton as Prince Ramiro is one of the few tenors who can actually sing the coloratura properly, and his small sweet voice never outstayed its welcome. Umberto Chiummo was a slightly camp (shades of Dale Winton) but equally well sung Don Magnifico, again a luxury to hear such clean coloratura in a baritone, though he doesn't quite have the low notes for this role. Elena Xanthoudakis made a magnetically horrible Clorinda and sang her small part well. The rest of the cast I had no complaints about either (how unusual!)
James Gaffigen conducted the London Philharmonic Orchestra expertly - this was excellent Rossinian style, beautifully coloured string playing, all as clean and accurate as Rossini needs to be to shine.
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