Metropolitan Opera (live broadcast), 23/11/2019
Glass : Akhnaten
Gandini Juggling
Metropolitan Opera Chorus
Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera, New York
Karen Kamensek
Akhnaten is the last of Philip Glass's so-called "Portrait" operas, his first three outings in a genre which now comprises some twenty-odd examples (depending on how 'opera' is defined) to date. Glass identified these three characters as visionaries in their own fields - Einstein in science, Ghandi in politics, and Akhnaten in religion, as he is broadly credited as having installed the first monotheistic religion in history. As is the case with the other two Portraits, there is very little actual plot here, it's more a series of tableaux, or snapshots, of a life, beginning with the funeral of Amenhotep III and coronation of his son, Akhnaten, and ending with the death of Akhnaten and coronation of his son Tutankhamen, with an epilogue in which the lingering ghosts of the king, his wife and his mother, finally move on from the ruins of Tel-el-Amarna.
It's a static piece, full of ceremony, the great majority of the sung text a mixture of ancient Middle Eastern languages, and a somewhat overblown spoken narrative at times to let the audience know what is going on. Musically, the really startling thing is the casting of a countertenor in the title role. Though present on stage, Akhnaten is silent for a good part of the first (and longest) act, so that when he does finally open his mouth to sing, that high, fluting timbre is a genuine shock, particularly as the orchestral colours are sombre, with no violins in the pit.
Originally presented at ENO, this is Phelim McDermott's third Glass production for them, and the Met also mounted his Satyagraha back in 2011. His Akhnaten, visually, is a very different affair, a sumptuous display of colour, richly dressed and bejewelled, with a sort of steampunk vibe to many of the sets and costumes, voluntary anachronisms and a solid dose of Western colonialism. It's gorgeous to look at, and where it does rejoin Satyagraha is in the introduction of an alternative theatrical skill set - there, it was puppetry, here, it's juggling. A dozen characters, anonymised in body suits of baked, cracked mud, like neglected golems, toss balls, balloons or juggling bats in hypnotic patterns perfectly matched to Glass's rippling and repetitive rhythms. At times when movement on stage is so slow as to seem frozen, these items seem to be the only real sign of life.
One peculiarity, which may be due strictly to the fact this was a cinema broadcast, is that the gender-fluidity of the title role has disappeared. The costumes for Akhnaten and Nefertiti, which are largely transparent and comprise no undergarments, if you look at the original ENO production shots, were perfectly decorous tonight. The Met's website warns of full frontal nudity - again, corroborated by reference back to the original 2016 staging - but there was no such thing visible tonight. So the Met was either being extra-cagey in a one-off for their international HD audiences, or they have bowdlerised the production as a matter of course for their home audience.
Anthony Roth Costanzo has consistently played Akhnaten in this production since its first outings - he said this was the fourth time. He's a frail figure, crushed by the ceremonial trappings of the coronation, ever-increasingly detached from the real world. His voice, very ethereal, a little reedy, seems equally frail, though there's real power there, carrying effortlessly through choral and orchestral textures, and the Hymn to the Sun, which is as close as this opera ever gets to an aria, was ecstatically beautiful. J'nai Bridges's warm timbre contrasted beautifully, her lower vocal line rubbing up against Costanzo's persuasively and seductively in the Act 2 Duet. The spoken text is on the pompous side, and could have come across very badly, but bass Zachary James cuts an imposing figure, with a magnificent speaking voice, and made the text resonate powerfully. All the other parts, and the chorus, were solidly played; the only thing I wasn't entirely happy with was the six daughters, at the start of Act 3, the vocal balance didn't seem quite right to me, but it's been a while since I've heard the piece, and I may be misjudging.
This is a spectacular production, visually immensely arresting, and musically as sound as could be desired.
[Next : 28th November ]
Gandini Juggling
Metropolitan Opera Chorus
Orchestra of the Metropolitan Opera, New York
Karen Kamensek
Akhnaten is the last of Philip Glass's so-called "Portrait" operas, his first three outings in a genre which now comprises some twenty-odd examples (depending on how 'opera' is defined) to date. Glass identified these three characters as visionaries in their own fields - Einstein in science, Ghandi in politics, and Akhnaten in religion, as he is broadly credited as having installed the first monotheistic religion in history. As is the case with the other two Portraits, there is very little actual plot here, it's more a series of tableaux, or snapshots, of a life, beginning with the funeral of Amenhotep III and coronation of his son, Akhnaten, and ending with the death of Akhnaten and coronation of his son Tutankhamen, with an epilogue in which the lingering ghosts of the king, his wife and his mother, finally move on from the ruins of Tel-el-Amarna.
 |
| L. to R. : J'nai Bridges (Nefertiti), Anthony Roth Costanzo (Akhnaten) and Dísella Lárusdóttir (Queen Tye) Akhnaten (© Metropolitan Opera, 2019) |
It's a static piece, full of ceremony, the great majority of the sung text a mixture of ancient Middle Eastern languages, and a somewhat overblown spoken narrative at times to let the audience know what is going on. Musically, the really startling thing is the casting of a countertenor in the title role. Though present on stage, Akhnaten is silent for a good part of the first (and longest) act, so that when he does finally open his mouth to sing, that high, fluting timbre is a genuine shock, particularly as the orchestral colours are sombre, with no violins in the pit.
Originally presented at ENO, this is Phelim McDermott's third Glass production for them, and the Met also mounted his Satyagraha back in 2011. His Akhnaten, visually, is a very different affair, a sumptuous display of colour, richly dressed and bejewelled, with a sort of steampunk vibe to many of the sets and costumes, voluntary anachronisms and a solid dose of Western colonialism. It's gorgeous to look at, and where it does rejoin Satyagraha is in the introduction of an alternative theatrical skill set - there, it was puppetry, here, it's juggling. A dozen characters, anonymised in body suits of baked, cracked mud, like neglected golems, toss balls, balloons or juggling bats in hypnotic patterns perfectly matched to Glass's rippling and repetitive rhythms. At times when movement on stage is so slow as to seem frozen, these items seem to be the only real sign of life.
 |
| Zachary James (Amenhotep) and the Gandini Jugglers Akhnaten, Metropolitan Opera (© Metropolitan Opera, 2019) |
Anthony Roth Costanzo has consistently played Akhnaten in this production since its first outings - he said this was the fourth time. He's a frail figure, crushed by the ceremonial trappings of the coronation, ever-increasingly detached from the real world. His voice, very ethereal, a little reedy, seems equally frail, though there's real power there, carrying effortlessly through choral and orchestral textures, and the Hymn to the Sun, which is as close as this opera ever gets to an aria, was ecstatically beautiful. J'nai Bridges's warm timbre contrasted beautifully, her lower vocal line rubbing up against Costanzo's persuasively and seductively in the Act 2 Duet. The spoken text is on the pompous side, and could have come across very badly, but bass Zachary James cuts an imposing figure, with a magnificent speaking voice, and made the text resonate powerfully. All the other parts, and the chorus, were solidly played; the only thing I wasn't entirely happy with was the six daughters, at the start of Act 3, the vocal balance didn't seem quite right to me, but it's been a while since I've heard the piece, and I may be misjudging.
This is a spectacular production, visually immensely arresting, and musically as sound as could be desired.
[Next : 28th November ]