I’ve owned a VHS tape of Harry Kupfer’s 1991 Royal Opera House production of Gluck’s Orfeo ed Euridice pretty much since it came out. I really can’t bear to watch VHS anymore so I haven’t watched it in ages and was intrigued when I managed to get my paws on a DVD copy and was able to see what I thought after all this time. Continue reading
Rossini’s Il Viaggio a Reims is a curious work. It was written as part of the celebrations for the coronation of Charles X of France, a leading contender in a relatively large field for the title of “most utterly useless king of France”. It doesn’t really have a plot and, in a sense, is a three hour riff on “An Englishman, a Frenchman and a German go into a bar”. It also has a huge cast; twenty solo roles of which ten or twelve are quite substantial and require no little virtuosity. It’s small wonder that it’s not seen all that often.
I’m not sure whether it was director Pierre Audi’s intention or a lack of chemistry between the principals but the 1994 Amsterdam production of Monteverdi’s L’incoronazione di Poppea, while extremely elegant, lacks gut punch. The stage has been extended to mostly cover the pit leaving the band (only seventeen musicians) in a triangular space cut into the extended stage. Much use is made of a staircase into the pit for entrances and exits. The large stage area is sparsely furnished with objects suggesting, rather than being, rocks, furniture etc. The costumes, by Emi Wada, are odd indeed ranging from a nurse who appears to be wearing sculpture to a Seneca who wears what looks like an old bedspread that the cat has used as a scratchy toy. Within this fairly artificial and abstract concept Audi manoeuvers his singers in complex ways (or at least he seems to when the video director lets us see) supported by a complex and atmospheric lighting plot. It really ought to be terrific but it just doesn’t get there. Continue reading
Yuri Temirkanov’s 1992 Kirov Opera production of Tchaikovsky’s Queen of Spades is extremely traditional but not dull. It’s given the default Catherine the Great setting and there are opulent ball rooms, gold braid, wigs and crinolines aplenty. There’s also careful direction of the action and some good acting so it’s far from a “park and bark” snoozefest, though it has nothing new or original to say. The lighting for the supernatural bits is especially atmospheric.
Just for fun, here are a couple of statistics. They show the language and location of performance of the 100+ DVDs reviewed by this blog.
Perhaps unsurprisingly Italian is well in front but then of the Italian language operas eleven were written by an Austrian and seven others by other non-Italians. It was a bit of a surprise that English featured so prominently. Only two of the English language performances are ENO shows in translation. When one thinks about it, it’s a bit remarkable that only six languages figure in total although I suppose there is some Chinese in Tan Dun’s The Last Emperor.
I was surprised by how geographically spread out the performances were. I expected the Met to be much more prominent though my taste in directors probably biases the list away from the Met and towards Paris and Salzburg. I really can’t account for the prominence of Glyndebourne though it may be partly Handel and Janáček related and partly a label preference towards Opus Arte. The forty four assorted ones are a really mixed bag ranging from Perth to Los Angeles to Helsinki.
The 1993 San Francisco Opera production of Strauss’ Capriccio is about as literal a take on the work as one could imagine. Stephen Lawless’ production sticks to the stage directions as laid down with an almost fetishistic fidelity. This is backed up by highly decorated costumes and sets firmly placed in a slightly over elaborated 1775. The traditionalists dream? I suppose so if one thinks that Strauss and Krauss meant the work to be taken literally. I don’t. This is an opera about an opera about opera. It begs to be deconstructed and the time and circumstances of its composition tend to reinforce the idea that all is not as it seems. To take it at face value is actually a bit absurd but that’s what happens here and the result is rather dull and unsatisfying. Continue reading
Mid period Verdi in a highly traditional La Scala production isn’t usually my cup of tea but I thought that if the usually excellent Opus Arte label thought the thing was worth a reissue it might be worth watching. With caveats, it was, even for someone who is as allergic to this kind of production as myself.
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Emilio Sagi’s 2005 production of Il Barbiere di Siviglia is incredibly elegant and restrained. It looks like something by Robert Carsen. The sets are all constructed and transformed in full view and just about everything is black and white until the final scene. There is a lot of background action and commentary from a talented group of dancers who give a very Spanish feel to the piece. The final scene bursts into vivid, even loud, colour and the finale is just gorgeous to look at. The direction of the actors is well thought out too though they do seem to sing from on top of furniture a lot of the time.
Johann Strauss’ Eine Nacht in Venedig is a pretty slight piece. In fact it makes Die Fledermaus look like Parsifal. It’s set during Carnival. There’s a visiting duke who is out to bed the last woman in Venice he hasn’t already slept with, the young wife of a doddery senator, but she’s being impersonated by her maid and her foster sister for reasons of their own while she gets off with her nephew. The duke fails to seduce anyone. Ash Wednesday arrives and everybody, on the surface, returns to her proper partner. All this serves as an excuse for lots of boob and thigh flashing, some big dance numbers and lots of, by Fledermaus standards, rather dull music. Continue reading
Given all the myriad versions of Le Nozze di Figaro in the DVD catalogue (eighteen currently available) why would anyone bother with a bog standard version in 18th century dress and with a cast that probably aren’t household names in their own households? Who (apart from the Toronto Public Library) would buy such a thing? Anyway, that’s pretty much what you get on the 1994 Lyon recording. To be fair, there’s nothing wrong with it. If you saw it live in Winnipeg or Edmonton you probably would feel that you had had an OK night at the opera but why a DVD release? It’s a mystery!
operaramblings 