WNO, 23/09/2022
Janáček : The Makropoulos Affair
Gentlemen of WNO Chorus
Orchestra of Welsh National Opera
Tomaš Hanus
I count myself very fortunate to have seen Makropoulos as often as I have - four times, not counting tonight - but it's been just over 20 years since the last time. As the first was in the excellent David Pountney staging that was part of the WNO/SO Janáček project back in the 80s, when this new production came up, and fitted into the calendar, it was pretty irresistible.
Images of time, in one form or another, are strewn throughout the production. During the orchestral prelude, the cogs of clockwork are projected onto the scrim, while a clock face encumbers the backstage area of Act 2, and the lavish bed in Act 3 has a clock set into its headboard. Director Olivia Fuchs has kept to Janáček's original choice of period, contemporary to him, that is, 1922, with handsome, clean-lined sets by Nicola Turner. Turner's costume designs are also generally good, save those for Emilia Marty herself; the black outfit in Act 1 lacked chic, the red/black dress in 2 was frankly unflattering (it looked a good deal better in the sketch reproduced in the programme, it has to be said), although the white satin nightgown and marabou-trimmed peignoir for Act 3 were unexceptionable, while her 2nd and 3rd Act wigs were pretty ugly too. It didn't help cement Marty's image as an captivating siren.
However, there were other problems with this Marty too. While Ángeles Blancas Gulin brought a fine, opulent soprano voice to the part, the thing that really stood out, in a bad way, was the muffled quality of her diction. I can't comment on the standard of pronunciation of the Czech (though it seemed convincing enough to me) - only the Dr. Kolenaty of Gustáv Belácek was a native speaker - but the clarity of diction was excellent all round. Blancas Gulin, on the other hand, was singing with plums stuffed in her cheeks, or that was the impression she gave, and it impeded her performance all the way through. The soaring luminescence of the final scene didn't come across, nor did the rare moments of tenderness - towards Gregor, as his many-times great-grandmother, towards Hauk-Sendorf, in the strange clarity of his dementia - emerge, and they are essential, because they are part of the elements that render an otherwise fairly monstrous character not only palatable, but endearing. Blancas Gulin never really projected that dichotomy, that tangled knot of contradictions that makes Emilia Marty such a remarkable creation, and her death, despite the best efforts of conductor Tomáš Hanus and the WNO orchestra, was not the incandescent transfiguration that it should be, and that I think Fuchs intended it to be.
There were no equivalent vocal problems with any of the rest of the cast, though I found that Nicky Spence was occasionally over-parted as Gregor (which surprised me a little, because I know he has Siegmund under his belt now), while David Stout lacked a degree of charisma for Prus. Beláček, on the other hand, was a superb Kolenaty, vital and expressive, with an excellent line in sarcasm, which can be pretty difficult to get across in music. Harriet Eyley was a good, fresh-voiced Christa, but as is often the case, it was the Hauk-Sendorf that truly stole the attention, Alan Oke really bringing the character to life, simultaneously amusing and pitiful, and revealing of so many secrets.
As mentioned above, Hanus and the orchestra were very much in charge of the evening, with playing of great transparency and a wonderful brass sound. The distant fanfares of Rudolf II's court, that are played off-stage in the prelude and are like a glimpse through the veil of time, sent shivers up my spine. It wasn't quite enough to compensate for the slightly hollow finale, though. This is an opera whose closing scene never fails to put a lump in my throat, until tonight. It's a production the company is taking to the Janáček Festival in Brno in a few weeks, I hope it will have found its heart by then.
[Next : 21st October]