Metropolitan Opera (live broadcast), 11/05/2019
Poulenc : Dialogues des Carmélites
Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera, New York
Yannick Nézet-Séguin
This season's Metropolitan Opera broadcasts were, from my point of view, a singularly uninteresting selection. Of the entire set, only one went right to the top of my 'must-see' list, their last, Poulenc's harrowing Dialogues des Carmélites, and it was well worth the wait.
The John Dexter production was premiered in 1977; to date, it's the only production of this opera to be staged at the Met, but it's ageing extremely well. The stage is black, with a large, white, cross-shaped walkway in the centre, the traditional outline of any western Christian church's nave and transepts. Some decor elements descend from the flies - the pillars of the church, a bookcase and fireplace for a townhouse room, bars for a prison cell - and there is the occasional bit of furniture, but generally the setting is minimalist, stark and sober, finely lit, light pooling in the centre of the church space. The surrounding darkness is both comforting and troubling, serene against the turmoil of the outside world, or hiding unseen, unspoken terrors.
Dexter manages the actors splendidly. Without ever going overboard, you get a distinct sense of the daily rituals that regiment every aspect of the nuns' lives. When they are forced out of the convent, and into ordinary, everyday life and clothing, the habitual patterning of the convent breaks up, and they cluster and mill in little groups, confused and aimless, until Mme. Lidoine gathers them about her for the last scenes, maternal and reassuring. At the end, there's no visible guillotine, instead, one by one, the nuns walk straight down the 'nave' to the back of the stage, pass between a pair of sentries, and disappear into the darkness, from which then comes the hair-raising, metallic swoosh and thump of the falling blade. It's a production which is as clearly legible as the music, direct and powerful.
It was also extremely well served by the cast. Finding a mezzo in the role of Blanche de la Force was surprising, although the Met has form here, because the original Blanche of this production was Maria Ewing. Isabel Leonard is a high mezzo, the voice clear and bright, just a little extra warmth in the timbre, which contrasted nicely with Erin Morley's artlessly luminous Constance. Karen Cargill's darker mezzo was perfectly suited to Mère Marie, authoritarian, but a little mellower than some I've heard. I was less inclined to judge this Mère Marie harshly in her last scene, Cargill made her responses seem wholly genuine.
Adrianne Pieczonka wasn't singing quite as smoothly as I would have liked, there was a very slightly pinched quality to the upper register at moments, as if she was over-controlling the sound production, but her presence was appropriately serene and pragmatic, as befits the character. However, the true star turn was Karita Mattila's Mme. de Croissy. This is not a part that requires beautiful singing, but a lot of vocal and physical acting. The character only appears in two scenes in the first act, but both, and especially the second, are crucial. The First Prioress's agonising death is the materialisation of all of Blanche's fears, and it has to be made believable. Mattila delivered on every count, and that death scene was electrifying.
Secondary roles, notably David Portillo's sympathetic Chevalier de la Force, were all very well taken too, and considering there was, I think, only one native French speaker amongst the soloists, the standard of French was very good indeed.
Yannick Nézet-Séguin's direction of the orchestra was perfectly judged, the sound, wind- and brass-heavy, but with a particular sheen on the strings, and the sudden, lush swirls of harp glissandi, ideally balanced. The pulsing bass-lines, which recur regularly throughout the work, ratcheted up the tension, leading inexorably to the shattering conclusion. This was an outstanding performance in a very fine production, which I hope will not be replaced any time soon. There aren't nearly enough of this calibre around.
[Next : 12th May]
Chorus and Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera, New York
Yannick Nézet-Séguin
This season's Metropolitan Opera broadcasts were, from my point of view, a singularly uninteresting selection. Of the entire set, only one went right to the top of my 'must-see' list, their last, Poulenc's harrowing Dialogues des Carmélites, and it was well worth the wait.
The John Dexter production was premiered in 1977; to date, it's the only production of this opera to be staged at the Met, but it's ageing extremely well. The stage is black, with a large, white, cross-shaped walkway in the centre, the traditional outline of any western Christian church's nave and transepts. Some decor elements descend from the flies - the pillars of the church, a bookcase and fireplace for a townhouse room, bars for a prison cell - and there is the occasional bit of furniture, but generally the setting is minimalist, stark and sober, finely lit, light pooling in the centre of the church space. The surrounding darkness is both comforting and troubling, serene against the turmoil of the outside world, or hiding unseen, unspoken terrors.
 |
| Poulenc's Dialogues des Carmélites at the Metropolitan Opera (© Ken Howard, 2019) |
It was also extremely well served by the cast. Finding a mezzo in the role of Blanche de la Force was surprising, although the Met has form here, because the original Blanche of this production was Maria Ewing. Isabel Leonard is a high mezzo, the voice clear and bright, just a little extra warmth in the timbre, which contrasted nicely with Erin Morley's artlessly luminous Constance. Karen Cargill's darker mezzo was perfectly suited to Mère Marie, authoritarian, but a little mellower than some I've heard. I was less inclined to judge this Mère Marie harshly in her last scene, Cargill made her responses seem wholly genuine.
Adrianne Pieczonka wasn't singing quite as smoothly as I would have liked, there was a very slightly pinched quality to the upper register at moments, as if she was over-controlling the sound production, but her presence was appropriately serene and pragmatic, as befits the character. However, the true star turn was Karita Mattila's Mme. de Croissy. This is not a part that requires beautiful singing, but a lot of vocal and physical acting. The character only appears in two scenes in the first act, but both, and especially the second, are crucial. The First Prioress's agonising death is the materialisation of all of Blanche's fears, and it has to be made believable. Mattila delivered on every count, and that death scene was electrifying.
 |
| L. to. R. : Paul Corona (Dr. Javelinot), Karita Mattila (Mme. de Croissy), Karen Cargill (Mère Marie), Dialogues des Carmélites, Metropolitan Opera (© Ken Howard, 2019) |
Yannick Nézet-Séguin's direction of the orchestra was perfectly judged, the sound, wind- and brass-heavy, but with a particular sheen on the strings, and the sudden, lush swirls of harp glissandi, ideally balanced. The pulsing bass-lines, which recur regularly throughout the work, ratcheted up the tension, leading inexorably to the shattering conclusion. This was an outstanding performance in a very fine production, which I hope will not be replaced any time soon. There aren't nearly enough of this calibre around.
[Next : 12th May]