Although Act 1 finds Mr. Marelli bringing out the story’s charm, while paying close attention to the innkeeper Lisa, who had hoped to win Elvino for herself, one gets the impression that in Act 2 he got tired of taking “La Sonnambula” seriously.
For Amina’s ecstatic “Ah! non giunge,” sung at the end after all is resolved, Ms. Dessay suddenly appears in a red gown, comes to the footlights and sings in front of a backdrop resembling the trompe l’oeil curtain of the Palais Garnier. This operatic moment points up that, splendid though Ms. Dessay’s singing is, others have brought more vocal brilliance to this dazzling moment. Limpid melodies are more her thing.
Ms. Dessay is happily partnered with the tenor Javier Camarena, who as Elvino sings with handsome, well-modulated tone and arresting dynamic shading. He delivered only one verse of his cabaletta “Ah! perchè non posso odiarti,” but ended it with a loud interpolated high note, as if that compensated the omission.
The suave baritone Michele Pertusi finds the nostalgic essence of Count Rodolfo’s aria “Vi ravviso,” and Marie-Adeline Henry offers a perky, vibrantly sung Lisa. Evelino Pidò is an able conductor, whom singers apparently like because he lets them do pretty much what they want. Among the cuts he sanctions is the charming chorus at the start of Act 2.
Paris offers so many opportunities to hear 17th- and 18th-century operas played on period instruments that you might expect the Opéra’s modern-instrument orchestra to cultivate big-boned Mozart performances in the manner of a Muti or a Levine.
For the current revival of Luc Bondy’s production of “Idomeneo” at the Palais Garnier, however, the early-music specialist Emmanuelle Haïm was engaged on expectations that she would bring period flair to the performance.
It was not to be. Just two days before the premiere, Ms. Haïm pulled out. As Le Monde put it, the Opéra orchestra has a reputation as a “killer of conductors.”
“This is a French phenomenon,” it added. “If a conductor is unacceptable to a German, British or American orchestra, the players will play as well as possible and be content not to have him invited back.”
Under the circumstances, it is understandable that the orchestral performance under the replacement conductor Philippe Hui fails to have much of a profile. Still, with Charles Workman in the title role of the Cretan king, Mozart’s great sacrificial drama manages to work its effect. The excellent soprano Tamar Iveri sings the jealous Elettra with iridescent tone and, in her final rage aria, riveting excitement.
Vesselina Kasarova is always a pleasure to encounter in any trouser role, here as Idomeneo’s son Idamante. Isabel Bayrakdarian, though her voice sometimes sounds wiry, also makes an impression as the Trojan princess Ilia.
Mr. Bondy’s somber production, set on the desolate beach of Erich Wonder’s décor, with murky images of stormy skies and seas, makes important moments tell, like the recognition scene for Idomeneo and Idamante. It also brings home the devastation Idomeneo causes his subjects by failing to fulfill his vow to Neptune and sacrifice his son.
Yet amidst the rejoicing at the end, a thunderstorm gratuitously breaks out, the chorus runs off and the music fades away. The effect is sophomoric, in much the same way that the close of Mr. Bondy’s “Tosca” is for the Metropolitan Opera, when the heroine, jumping to her death, is seen suspended in midair.
La Sonnambula. Directed by Marco Arturo Marelli. Opéra National de Paris, Opéra Bastille.
Idomeneo. Directed by Luc Bondy. Opéra National de Paris, Palais Garnier.Continue reading the main story
NEW YORK -- A few years ago, it seemed that Bellini's operas were seldom performed. Now they're done all the time, in part because of the ascendancy of two sopranos -- Natalie Dessay and Anna Netrebko -- who are seen as ideal for this repertory. Netrebko did Bellini's "La Sonnambula" in Vienna in 2006. Cecilia Bartoli, the mezzo-soprano, has just recorded it for a CD. And on Monday night, the Metropolitan Opera's new production, with Dessay, earned boos at its first performance. (The production will be shown live in movie theaters on March 21.)
One reason not to do "Sonnambula" is that it's silly: Oh-so-innocent young girl loves boy, sleepwalks, is found sleeping in strange man's room, regains trust of lover. But plenty of operas are silly and are staged nonetheless, because of the music. The Met's problem was that it approached the opera backward, engaging the stage director Mary Zimmerman -- a tacit indication that the staging will play a leading role -- and two proven leads, Dessay and Juan Diego Flórez, but leaving the conductor as the weakest part of the equation.
Bel canto opera only sounds easy. To bring it off you need a musical leader who can weave all those delicate musical threads into a single strand. Evelino Pidò, in the orchestra pit, was not that leader, and the music was wishy-washy as a result. The chorus, which has been sounding fantastic since Donald Palumbo took over as chorus master in 2007, was not fantastic at all. And even the good leads found the opera somewhat heavy to carry entirely on their own.
In a recent profile in the New Yorker, Dessay said that "it's almost impossible to sing and really act at the same time." This statement perfectly sums up the weaknesses in her performance. When she is focused on singing -- as when she sleepwalked through the auditorium, one of the most satisfying moments of the evening -- her voice fills out and expands through the house. But acting is her calling card; when she is building character, adorable though she be, she scales back her singing, and it is simply less interesting.
Flórez is singing really well these days. Always a formidable technician, he seems to have tempered the bothersome driven quality in his voice, and his sound is more supple and elastic (he also stars on the Bartoli recording). Like Dessay, he has to contend with the restrictions imposed by a smaller voice. His voice, like hers, blossomed when he focused wholly on the singing (particularly in their Act 1 duet and in his cabaletta after Elvino, his character, rejects his bride in Act 2).
The other singers all did what they could. I found the bass Michele Pertusi disappointingly pale as the Count (whose simple aria is a favorite). Jennifer Black was a lively, brassy Lisa; Jane Bunnell was fine as Teresa, and Jeremy Galyon made his company debut as the bumpkin Alessio.
But what about those boos?
I, too, have approached this performance backward. For while I believe the music comes first, what drew the boos on Monday night, and what everybody will be buzzing about for days to come, was Zimmerman's production.
Zimmerman did a lot better with this than she did with her last Met outing, the unfortunate "Lucia di Lammermoor" (also with Dessay) that the Met just revived with Netrebko and broadcast in movie theaters last month. She hasn't learned to work with a chorus yet -- her crowd scenes are generally disastrous -- but she managed to make a few things happen on the stage, like that inspired sleepwalking scene.
But sadly, the production still didn't quite work. And because it is more daring than the "Lucia" -- the conceit is that the cast is meeting in a New York loft space to rehearse the opera, and their characters' actions bleed over into real life -- it is probably going to bother people more than "Lucia" did.
It's refreshing to see Amina depicted with some spunkiness. The heroine is usually so naive and vulnerable as to become cloying. Here, instead, she made a diva entrance, talking on her cellphone while chorus members, all in street clothes, gathered around to take her coat and present costume options to her. And Elvino (Flórez) was the diva's real-life lover, who proposes marriage during a break in the rehearsal proper.
Well and good. But then the Count enters, and the stage manager, Lisa, fixes him up with a bed for the night. Who is the Count, and why is he sleeping in a rehearsal room? Why is the diva napping on the job, or is she supposed to be in character when she starts sleepwalking? Confusion is a hallmark of bel canto operas, but it shouldn't extend to the audience as well. And the Act 1 finale, which had the chorus throwing torn-up paper and cups around the room, was inexplicable.
I have no problem with updating opera or reinterpreting it, as long as the whole thing hangs together. But in order to work, it has to make sense. This production managed to follow the contours of the story while making no sense at all. At the end, the whole chorus appeared for the first time in quaint Swiss costume: Okay, they're putting on the show now; I get it. But how did that fit Zimmerman's conceit? Perhaps by her next Met production, Rossini's "Armida" in April 2010, she will be comfortable enough with opera to deliver something better than merely the next step on what is, apparently, a long learning curve.