Puccini : Manon Lescaut
Royal Opera Chorus
Orchestra of the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden
Sir Antonio Pappano
There are times when I really don't know just what we, the audience, have done to deserve having certain productions inflicted upon us. Tonight was a case in point. While Pappano, Opolais, Kaufmann & Co. were pouring their collective hearts out in Puccini, I think the director Jonathan Kent secretly wished he'd been staging Henze's Boulevard Solitude (yes, I did hear the broadcast on Saturday), because a lot of what I saw seemed far better suited to that work than the one actually performed.
If the first act in its updated setting was relatively innocuous, things started to come apart in the second, starting with the whole idea that any kind of banker these days would be caught dead fondling anyone dressed as vulgarly as this Manon was, let alone being filmed doing so. Have a mistress, sure. Show her off to his friends, certainly. Put it up on YouTube - not a chance! Act 3 remains an utter mystery to me - it looked like some sort of television studio, but what the purpose was I still cannot fathom - while Act 4 seemed to transport us, and the doomed lovers, into a post-Apocalyptic Mountain Valley. I kept half-expecting zombies to appear from around the supporting struts of that ruined flyover. Herein lies perhaps the only significant advantage of the cinema broadcast - the close-ups at this point allowed us to completely ignore the scenery and focus on the (very fine) singing.
Thank goodness for the musical side of the evening. First and foremost, Pappano and the orchestra played absolutely magnificently. I could argue with one or two tempo choices, but only very slightly, and really, the overall effect was superb. The chorus was crisp and alert, there were a couple of very nice cameos from Nadezhda Karyazina (the Madrigal Singer) and Luis Gomes (the Lamplighter), and a lively Edmondo from Benjamin Hulett. Christopher Maltman was an exceptionally sleazy Lescaut, rather more disagreeable than I'm used to seeing the character, but still well sung.
Jonas Kaufmann, like Maltman and Kristíne Opolais, has taken on his role here, in this production, for the first time. I have to say I'm not sure he's quite right for the part. Nothing against the actual singing, though he could tone it down a little in a couple of places, but for much of the opera, he seemed a bit too controlled, rather than projecting the impulsive ardour that is the dominant characteristic of Puccini's Des Grieux. Finally, in Act 3, that splendid instrument connected with an emotional core, and the plea to the Captain, "Pazzo io son" was heart-rending. From there on, he never looked back.
Whatever Kaufmann may have lacked, however, was amply compensated for by the outstanding Manon of Kristíne Opolais. She has an ideal voice for this role, lush without heaviness, warm, clear, just the right degree of vibrato to give it that italianate throb, and richly expressive. A good actress physically (or at least as convincing as this production allowed her to be), the voice carried the rest, all the contradictory feelings that make Manon such a challenging role being given full rein. Her final aria almost bordered on a Mad Scene, but when she cried out "No, non voglio morir", it was completely credible. A truly excellent performance that deserved a much better setting.
[Next : 26th July]
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