Předchozí recenze výroby
9That's one side of the oppressive force in the society that Salome has been brought up in. The other is the religious moralising of the prophet Jokanaan, whose mystical imagery and phrasing presents an authoritative and attractive alternative, but Salome comes to find it also prohibitive. Disdainful of the earthly treasures promised by Herod, attracted to the condemnation of her despised step-father and his corrupt, vice-ridden world, and aroused by the alluring promises of Jokanaan (something that is very much brought out in the resonant bass register of the role), Salome reacts violently when neither of these patriarchal structures offer her any personal expression or freedom, but rather seek to further enslave her and any like-minded women with their own strong sense of identity and desires.
The tenor Peter Hoare was very impressive in the hugely demanding part of Orpheus the man (as opposed to Orpheus the myth and Orpheus the hero, also played well by Daniel Norman and Matthew Smith respectively) but the whole cast coped magnificently with the outlandish score.
This is the last of the four operas based on the Orpheus myth which the ENO had the wonderfully crazy idea of bringing together for the last few months of this year and on the whole the quartet has been a success. It began with Gluck’s Orpheus and Eurydice which is full of great music and tells effectively the basic story of Orpheus travelling to Hades to try to bring back his beloved Eurydice after her untimely death.
If it's not broke, don't fix it!" Most clichés gain their status through being true, but that one is honoured in the breach as often as in its application, the desire to sell something new (even if it isn't really) as addictive to the vendor as it is to the buyer. Not always though. "25 years of Richard Eyre's La Traviata" is emblazoned (in gold, no less) on the cast list and the programme compiles a Who's Who of opera stars who have sung the roles in that quarter century - it was staged here as recently as January after all! So you've every right to expect something good, something slick, something that can fill hundreds of seats on wet Tuesday night a week before Christmas. And that's what you get.
Apart from Oropesa’s Violetta, the superb tenor Liparit Avetisyan gives a convincing performance as the passionate Alfredo, a role that is rarely achieved in operatic productions. The German baritone Christian Gerhaher in the role of Giorgio Germont, the man responsible for the break-up, also offers an impressive performance. The entire leading cast as well as the rest of the cast secured the narrative’s realism that is so brilliantly embedded in its musical fabric, which translates on stage in a manner that even those not musically trained, gain a satisfying musical and dramatic experience. The stamp of the director of this revival, Pedro Ruibeiro, is much in evidence. The dramatic performance, highlighting the conflict between father-son, the shift in Germont’s attitude towards Violetta, the ‘saintly courtesan’, is made clear in their first encounter in Act II. His hard tone and demeanour towards this fallen reveal early signs of softening and gestures of respect. The social norms layered with hypocrisy are superbly probed musically and dramatically in that first encounter between the two. The dramatic tension is given momentary relief by the colourful and beautifully performed gypsy’s singing dancing and the matadors. They lighten up the atmosphere before the mood darkens.The evening, in its entirety, can be summed up as memorable
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.
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.
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.
