An unforgettable, amazing opera night: Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust feat. Sir Willard White, in Madrid.

Madrid, November 23, 2023.

La Damnation of Faust, by Berlioz, is one of the great titles of this season of the Spanish Radio and Television Orchestra at the Teatro Monumental, due to the big staff it requires. It is sometimes confused with an opera, and in fact it has been performed as such on numerous occasions. However, Berlioz conceived it to be performed in concert, leaving it somewhere between opera and cantata. It is not a modest undertaking to stage Goethe's Faust, one of the peaks of Western literature, which takes place in many environments. At a time when cinema did not exist, Berlioz rightly felt that a stage would limit the dimension and dynamism he wanted to give to the work, something that is understood in the grand finale, which changes settings very quickly.

In Madrid it is a work that is scheduled from time to time. In recent times, at the Teatro Real it was performed in 2002 and 2009, the latter with Piotr Beczała, Olga Borodina and Ildar Abdrazakov, and at the Monumental itself it has been performed several times, the last in 2011, directed by Michel Plasson. In 2020 it was scheduled but the pandemic prevented it. But historically it was represented even staged, at the beginning of the 20th century there were performances at the Real with Celestina Boninsegna.

The Russian maestro Vassily Sinaisky, former musical director of the Bolshoi Theater in Moscow, directs the Spanish Radio and Television Orchestra. And it can be said that he has left us a version that can be described as memorable, since he has been able to recreate the multiple possibilities of the work, both the most spectacular, the most majestic, and the most intimate, and even chamber-like, in a intimate reading and at the same time majestic when it should be. The strings shone from the first moment, in the brief initial introduction, the cellos and double basses achieved a mysterious, chilling sound in the scene of Mephistopheles' appearance, and the viola in the initial aria of Margarita with a warm sound. It sounded more intimate, like chamber music, in the well-known Hungarian march, as well as the nature scenes. And in the tavern scene the brass was just fantastic. The finale, which moves from the noisy and shocking pandemonium to Margarita's ascension to heaven, was overwhelming, being the orchestra's highlight. The Choir reached the same level as the Orchestra, shining in each and every one of its interventions, especially the male section.

When a great artist is still active on stage after decades of career, it is a true miracle, involving a fascinating career. This is the case of Sir Willard White, aged 77, without a shadow of a doubt. One of Maria Callas' students in her legendary Juillard master classes, this British bass-baritone of Jamaican origin has been on stage for 52 years, impressing with his powerful voice and imposing presence. White has tackled a very extensive repertoire, ranging from the baroque, Wagner and Verdi, to the wide operatic repertoire of the 20th century, as well as black spirituals (being the artistic heir of Paul Robeson in this genre), lied and popular song in the English language, among others. His performance of the main role of Gershwin's "Porgy and Bess" (which he sang at the premiere of this opera at the Teatro Real in 1998) is considered as referential. In fact, last year he was still singing this opera in the controversial Budapest staging featuring mainly white local singers, he being the only black singer in the cast.White has always been in major, outstanding operatic productions. He was one of the favourite artists of the late and always missed impresario Gerard Mortier, participating in many of his productions. During the latter's tenure as artistical manager at the Teatro Real, White sang at Kurt Weill's Mahagonny staged by La Fura dels Baus, Boesmans' and Monteverdi's version of L'Incoronazione di Poppea, Tchaikovsky's Iolanta and Glück's Alceste, both directed by Krzystof Warlikowski. In addition, he has also been successful as an actor, having made a film of Shakespeare's Otello with the legendary Ian McKellen. For his important career, he was knighted in 2004 by the Queen Elizabeth II. A portrait of him is displayed at the National Gallery in London. In 1999 he sang in in this work, in the legendary Salzburg production of La Fura del Baus, which was filmed on video.

Twenty-four years later, White continues singing Mephistopheles, and it is singing this role that he returns to Madrid after 9 years. And his performance continues to impress because he is in amazing vocal shape for his age. White is a man of strong physical appearance, and enormous presence. His interpretation of the devil Mephistopheles is not only limited to reading the score and singing, but also involves real acting, gestures, expression, interacting with other singers, as if it were an actual performance instead of a concert version. Vocally, he is in shape for his age. Compared to himself two decades ago, it is obvioys that his voice vibrates more with age, and he seems to put more effort into achieving a firm vocal projection. But he still maintains a lot from his prime, since his voice continues to have the same great volume heard through the hall, the tone continues to resemble that of his golden days, with that dark, grave and dramatic sound, in addition to having still good phrasing. An unforgettable performance, which gave this concert its main theatrical contribution.

Faust was sung by tenor Robert Murray. Being the protagonist, I have always thought that a star tenor should sing it, although in reality, character tenors, or  more concert than operatic tenors, have sung this role. Murray is  more a character tenor  than dramatic or lyric one, but despite the fact that the tessitura is for a bigger and more lyrical voice than his, the effort he has made tonight is undeniable. His voice has an acceptable middle register, which sounds good in the most intimate moments of the role, which he defended well in the first act, but if he goes more towards the high pitch it is more difficult for him. In the duets with Margarita, in fact some high notes were compromised, even troubled.

Olesya Petrova was, apart from White, the other major voice in the cast, because of her excellent performance as Margarita. This Russian mezzo-soprano has a voice that is reminiscent of the good old  music tradition of her country. Her tone is dark, contralto-like, and she projects her voice firmly, being heard throughout the room, surpassing the other singers and the orchestra. In her two arias she sang exquisitely, and in the second, D'amour l'ardente flamme, she mastered the phrasing and sang some beautiful pianissimi.

Vladislav Buyalskij is a young Ukrainian baritone, who rose to fame last year when, at the beginning days of the Ukraine war, he sang his country's national anthem with the choir of the Metropolitan Opera in New York before a performance of Don Carlo, repeating this a month later at the benefit concert for Ukraine that took place on the same stage. In his brief role in the first part as Brander, he exhibited his beautiful baritone voice, with an excellent low voice, but which lacked volume, especially with White at his side.

There wasn't a big seat occupation in the hall. One of the things that surprised the audience was the absence of any kind of playbill, which had to be downloaded via QR. Without subtitles to follow the action, shortly before starting the second part there were protests from the mezzanine, complaining about this. But even so, the success could not be denied, since it was a musical evening of the highest level, and audience left the theatre delighted, as could be heard from converstions while leaving.

My reviews are not professional and express only my opinions. As a non English native speaker I apologise for any mistake.

Most of the photographs are from the internet and belong to its authors. My use of them is only cultural. If someone is uncomfortable with their use, just notify it to me.

Any reproduction of my text requires my permission.

Apoteosis en el Teatro Monumental: antológica Condenación de Fausto en Madrid con Sir Willard White.

Madrid, 23 de noviembre de 2023.

La Condenación de Fausto, de Berlioz, es uno de los grandes títulos de esta temporada de la Orquesta de Radiotelevisión Española, debido a la enorme cantidad de medios que exige, un enorme coro y tres grandes voces solistas. A veces se la confunde con una ópera, y de hecho en numerosas ocasiones ha sido representada como tal. Sin embargo, Berlioz la concibió para ser interpretada en concierto, dejándola a caballo entre la ópera y la cantata. No es una modesta empresa llevar a escena el Fausto de Goethe, una de las cimas de la literatura occidental, que transcurre en muchos ambientes. En una época en la que no existía el cine, Berlioz sentía con razón que un escenario limitaría la dimensión  y dinamismo que quería dar a la obra, algo que se entiende en el gran final, que cambia de ambientación muy rápido. 

En Madrid es una obra que se programa de cuando en cuando. En épocas recientes, en el Teatro Real se representó en 2002 y 2009, esta última con Piotr Beczała, Olga Borodina e Ildar Abdrazakov, y en el propio Monumental se ha interpretado varias veces, la última en 2011, dirigida por Michel Plasson. En 2020 estaba programada pero la pandemia lo impidió. Pero históricamente se representó incluso escenificada, a principios del siglo XX hay representaciones en el Real con Celestina Boninsegna.

El maestro ruso Vassily Sinaisky, antiguo director musical del Teatro Bolshoi de Moscú, dirige a la Orquesta de Radiotelevisión Española. Y puede decirse que  nos ha dejado una versión que se puede calificar como memorable, pues ha sido capaz de recrear las múltiples posibilidades de la obra, tanto la más espectacular, como la más majestuosa, como la más íntima, e incluso camerística, en una lectura intimista y al mismo tiempo majestuosa cuando debía serlo. Las cuerdas brillaron desde el primer momento, en la breve introducción inicial,  los violonchelos y contrabajos lograron un sonido misterioso, estremecedor en la escena de aparición de Mefistófeles, y la viola en el aria inicial de Margarita con un sonido cálido. Más intimista sonó en la conocida marcha húngara, así como las escenas de la naturaleza. Y en la escena de la taberna el metal se lució en todo su esplendor. Como no puede ser de otro modo, el final, en el que se pasa del ruidoso y estremecedor pandemonium a la ascensión de Margarita a los cielos, resultó sobrecogedor, siendo el momento culminante de la orquesta. El Coro de Radiotelevisión Española alcanzó el mismo nivel de la Orquesta, brillando en todas y cada una de sus intervenciones, muy especialmente la sección masculina. 

Cuando un gran artista sigue en activo tras décadas de carrera, es un verdadero milagro, que conlleva una trayectoria fascinante. La de Sir Willard White, en activo a sus 77 años, lo es sin atisbo de duda. Uno de los alumnos de Maria Callas en sus legendarias clases magistrales en Juillard, este bajo-barítono británico de origen jamaicano ya lleva 52 años sobre los escenarios, impresionando con su potente voz y su imponente presencia. En todo este tiempo, White ha abordado un repertorio extensísimo, que va desde el barroco, Wagner y Verdi, hasta el diverso repertorio operístico del siglo XX, además de espirituales negros, lied y canción popular en lengua inglesa, entre otros. Su interpretación del protagonista de "Porgy y Bess" de Gershwin (que cantó en el estreno de esta ópera en el Real en 1998) está considerada como referencial. De hecho, el año pasado aún cantaba esta ópera en la controversial producción de Budapest formada por cantantes blancos, siendo él el único cantante negro del elenco. Y es que White siempre ha estado en producciones impactantes. Fue uno de los artistas de cabecera del siempre añorado Gérard Mortier, participando en muchas de sus producciones. Durante la etapa de este último en el Teatro Real, White cantó en el Mahagonny de Kurt Weill por La Fura, la versión de Boesmans y Monteverdi de La Coronación de Poppea, Iolanta de Tchaikovsky y Alceste de Glück, ambas dirigidas por Krzystof Warlikowski. Además, también ha tenido éxito como actor, pues con el legendario Ian McKellen hizo una película del Otello de Shakespeare. Por su gran labor artística, fue nombrado caballero del Imperio Británico en 2004. Un retrato suyo cuelga en la National Gallery de Londres. En 1999 participó en Salzburgo en esta obra, en el mítico montaje de La Fura del Baus, que fue filmado en vídeo. 

Veinticuatro años después, White sigue cantando el Mefistófeles, y es con este rol con el que regresa a Madrid después de 9 años. Y su interpretación sigue impresionando por estar en forma para su avanzada edad. White es un hombre de fuerte complexión física, y de enorme presencia. Su interpretación del diablo Mefistófeles no se limita a leer la partitura y cantar sino que actúa, gesticula, mira, interactúa, como si estuviera una representación en lugar de un concierto sinfónico. Vocalmente, está en forma para la edad que tiene. Comparado con él mismo hace dos décadas, es evidente que la voz vibra más con la edad, y parece esforzarse más en lograr una emisión firme. Y sin embargo, aún mantiene bastante de sus días dorados, ya que la voz sigue teniendo el mismo gran volumen que corre por la sala, el timbre sigue pareciéndose al de su mejor época, con ese sonido oscuro, grave y dramático, además de tener aún buen fraseo. Una interpretación memorable, que dio a este concierto su única aportación teatral. 

Fausto fue interpretado por el tenor Robert Murray. Al ser el protagonista, siempre he pensado que un tenor de primer orden debería cantarlo, aunque en la realidad, tenores de carácter, o de repertorio más de concierto que operístico han cantado este rol. Murray es un tenor más de carácter que dramático, pero pese a que la tesitura es para una voz más grande y más lírica que la suya, es innegable el esfuerzo que ha hecho esta noche. Su voz tiene un centro aceptable, que suena bien en los momentos más intimistas del rol, los cuales defendió bien en el primer acto, pero si se va más hacia el agudo le cuesta más. En los dúos con Margarita, de hecho alguna nota aguda estuvo comprometida. 

Olesya Petrova fue, junto con White, el otro líder del elenco, en su excelente interpretación de Margarita. Esta mezzosoprano rusa tiene una voz que recuerda a la tradición de su país. Su timbre es oscuro, casi de contralto, y proyecta su voz con firmeza, además de que se hace oír por toda la sala, sobrepasando a los demás cantantes y a la orquesta. En sus dos arias cantó de forma exquisita, y en la segunda, D'amour l'ardente flamme dominó el fraseo y emitió unos bellos pianissimi. 

Vladislav Buyalskij es un joven barítono ucraniano, que el año pasado saltó a la fama cuando, al inicio de la guerra de Ucrania, entonó el himno nacional de su país junto al coro del Metropolitan Opera de Nueva York antes de una función de Don Carlo, repitiendo su gesta un mes después en el concierto por Ucrania que tuvo lugar en el mismo escenario. En su breve intervención en la primera parte como Brander, exhibió su bella voz baritonal, con un excelente grave, pero a la que le faltaba volumen, sobre todo teniendo a White al lado.

Había poca gente en el patio de butacas. Una de las cosas que más llamaron la atención fue la ausencia de programa de mano, que tenía que descargarse por QR. Sin subtítulos para seguir la acción, antes de comenzar la segunda parte hubo protestas reclamándolos. Pero aún así, no pudo negarse el éxito de público, ya que ha sido una velada musical de altísimo nivel.

Las fotografías y vídeos no son de mi autoría, si alguien se muestra disconforme con la publicación  de cualquiera de ellas en este blog le pido que me lo haga saber inmediatamente. Cualquier reproducción de este texto necesita mi permiso.

Vuelven la magia del circo, y sus tristezas: Las Golondrinas de Usandizaga en el Teatro de la Zarzuela.

Las Golondrinas, de José María Usandizaga, es uno de los títulos emblemáticos de la zarzuela, y de la ópera española, ya que desde su reconversión en ópera en 1929, va entre las dos aguas. Usandizaga desarrolló su carrera en una de las épocas más interesantes de la historia de la música, en los inicios del siglo XX. Desgraciadamente, su muerte en 1915, a los 28 años, nos privó de la que habría sido una obra tan grande como la de Sorozábal, Chapí, Bretón, Guerrero o Moreno Torroba, aunque lo que tenemos ya lo sitúa en las cumbres del género. 

Con libreto de María Lejárraga, pero con el nombre de su marido, el dramaturgo Gregorio Martín-Sierra, y basada en la obra de este último, Saltimbanquis; se estrenó en el Teatro Circo Price el 5 de febrero de 1914.  No pudo ser un escenario más indicado, al tratarse de una obra sobre payasos que ríen en escena, pero que lloran detrás de ella, como en los Pagliacci de Leoncavallo. Un trágico triángulo amoroso, como tantos en la historia de la lírica, donde los celos posesivos y enfermizos del protagonista llevan a un desenlace fatal. La vida en los circos es dura, con tanta itinerancia, y sigue siéndolo, como no hace pocos años el programa de televisión "21 días" documentó en uno de sus reportajes. Musicalmente, se sitúa cercana al verismo y a la escuela francesa, pero siempre con guiños a la música española. 

La producción que nos ocupa, del maestro italiano Giancarlo del Monaco, se estrenó en 2016 en el Teatro de la Zarzuela, en la primera temporada de Daniel Bianco, el ya ex director del teatro. Y se ha convertido en un exitoso montaje, que traslada la acción a una época indeterminada, entre los 50 y los 60, pero fiel a la esencia de la obra. Y es también inmersiva, por que cuando suena el brillante y breve preludio, unos payasos y acróbatas entran en medio del patio de butacas, lanzando anuncios del espectáculo, y suben a la escena. Toda la obra transcurre en los bastidores de un teatro, y la acción del primer acto sucede mientras los artistas ensayan sus números, escupiendo fuego, tragando espadas, contorsionándose. En el segundo acto tiene lugar la pantomima, con el excelente vestuario de Jesús Ruiz y la coreografía de Barbara Staffolani, en la que Puck se dirige al público y la pantomima tiene lugar, mientras que al fondo se ve una pintura de un payaso. La segunda parte de este acto es la recepción de los artistas, donde se ve al coro elegantemente ataviado. De nuevo del patio de butacas sale un personaje, esta vez Cecilia, quien se encuentra con la sorpresa de volver al circo. El tercer acto es el más oscuro de la obra, pese al hermoso preludio anterior, y aquí el escenario está totalmente desnudo, con la iluminación tenebrosa, dejando a los personajes solos con sus atormentadas conciencias. Tras el trágico final, Puck sale del teatro por el patio de butacas, dejando a Lina sola, con el coro vestido de payaso.

Juanjo Mena dirige la Orquesta del Teatro de la Zarzuela en una interpretación enérgica, con la orquesta sonando en forte, y en muchas ocasiones sobrepasando a los cantantes, los cuales no tienen voces pequeñas para el teatro. Aun así, la agrupacion parecía reservarse para la larga pantomima, de la que dieron una versión encantadora, mágica y divertida. También se reservaron para el preludio del tercer acto, con un lucimiento de la madera, seguida de una apoteosis orquestal. Pese a tapar a veces a los cantantes, no puede decirse que la orquesta no transmitiera la riqueza musical y la tragedia de la partitura, como el trémolo de bajos en el tercer acto o el chelo en una romanza de Lina en el primer acto. El coro tuvo una gran interpretación, alcanzando su punto álgido en el coro del acto segundo "Clavel de abril, la dulce amante de Pierrot", cuando sus voces sonaron en todo su poderío, envolviendo con él toda la sala.

Gerardo Bullón fue Puck, el trágico protagonista. Sustituyendo al previsto Carlos Álvarez, Bullón se ha apuntado un éxito personal, con su interpretación desgrarradora y su potente voz. Raquel Lojendio se erige como la protagonista de la noche, con su deliciosa y convincente interpretación de la abnegada Lina. Su precioso timbre, pese a algún agudo problemático, frente a otros aceptables, unido a su entrega al personaje le aseguraron no pocos aplausos del público. Ketevan Kemoklidze como Cecilia es una excelente mezzosoprano, con un grave imponente, el timbre contraltado, y un bonito timbre, más carnoso y oscuro. Jorge Rodríguez-Norton interpretó a Juanito, que en el segundo acto aparece disfrazado de Charlot, y Javier Castañeda a Roberto, el padre de Lina. Ambos intérpretes cumplieron con sus roles, haciendo que sus voces se oigan, y Rodríguez-Norton trabaja la vis cómica del personaje. Entre los actores payasos, es una agradable sorpresa encontrar a Sergio Dorado, quien participó como uno de los enanitos en la célebre película Blancanieves (2012) de Pablo Berger.

Hoy era la última función, con el teatro prácticamente lleno, aplaudiendo feliz tras los grandes números. Lo que nos muestra una vez más la grandeza de nuestra lírica española, especialmente de nuestras óperas, con una obra que poco tiene que envidiarle a sus contemporáneas óperas veristas italianas. Ojalá volvamos a ver Las Golondrinas muy pronto.

Las fotografías y vídeos no son de mi autoría, si alguien se muestra disconforme con la publicación  de cualquiera de ellas en este blog le pido que me lo haga saber inmediatamente. Cualquier reproducción de este texto necesita mi permiso.

When coming home is worse than battle: Handel's Orlando at the Teatro Real.

Madrid, November 6, 2023.

Two years after Partenope, another Handel opera is staged at the Teatro Real in Madrid. This time, it is the turn of Orlando, whose plot, based on another opera, L'Orlando, by Carlo Capece, goes back to Ludovico Ariosto's epic poem, Orlando Furioso, which also serves as the basis for the plots of his operatic masterpieces Alcina and Ariodante. However, this opera wasn't successful when premiered in 1733, with only 10 performances; remaining forgotten until its rediscovery in the 20th century. Today it is seen as one of Handel's most important operas, with an outstanding discography in modern times. The plot, despite being based on a classic epic, is still unusual in baroque opera: it tells the madness of a hero who discovers that love cannot be for him. This opera, rarely seen in Spain, was performed in Madrid four years ago, in a concert version by Il Pomo d'Oro in the internationally famous Universo Barroco (Baroque Universe) season at the Auditorio Nacional. Now, it is the Teatro Real that stages it with its own company.

Claus Guth makes an interesting parallel between the plot of this opera and present times. Many soldiers return from the front with several consequences to reprise their civilian lives, many of them suffering from psychological aftermath. Guth takes as a reference the Martin Scorsese's film "Taxi Driver, whose protagonist returns alienated and mentally ill from the Vietnam War, for his staging. On this occasion, the work is set in a modest apartment block, surrounded by palm trees and vegetation that suggest a coastal city. For this purposes, it uses a rotating stage that shows the ruined apartment where Orlando lives, a caravan that serves as a bar, the façade of the building, a staircase full of vegetation, and a bus stop, next to which there is a beer advertisement. Guth emphasizes the hero's madness, the self-destruction process of a soldier with post-traumatic stress. At his side, Zoroastro acts as his social worker, and as a drunken tramp who gets involved with the characters. Dorinda has a mobile bar, which she runs dressed as Snow White, and the lovers Angelica and Medoro try to live their love, here a torrid passion, in the middle of this sordid environment. As the action and madness of Orlando progress, an atmosphere of terror, with the protagonist self-harming and suffering hallucinations, permeates the scene. ROCAFILM's Roland Horvath's videos intensify this self-destruction with brilliant, dark  image projections.

Ivor Bolton, conducting the Teatro Real Orchestra, achieves a rendition that goes from less to more, from an acceptable overture, to achieving an inspired accompaniment, and with outstanding intervention of the viola.

Christophe Dumaux, the famous French countertenor, sings Orlando. This production requires great involvement not only musically, but also physically, since he has to jump, or self-harming while singing or reciting. His rendition of bravura arias such as Fammi Combattere is excellent, as well as his acting level. Anthony Roth Constanzo sings Medoro, with a louder voice than Dumaux's, excelling in the long and beautiful aria Verdi allori, where he also gave a beautiful, long and unforgettable pianissimo. Florian Boesch is Zoroastro, the magician who saves Orlando from the tragedy he is about to commit. If on an acting and interpretive level he is impeccable, on a vocal level he is sometimes insufficient, since for the authority of this character a little more bass voice is missing. His rendition of the aria Tra caligini profonde was unpleasant, not because of his singing, but because of the staging, which forces him to sing it as if he were drunk, alternating with some belching, and also with the moans from Angelica and Medoro who are having sex not far away. The female singers were as the best of the night, both Anna Prohaska with her excellent renditions of Angelica's arias, showing a skilled coloratura, as well as beautiful high notes; as Giulia Semenzato in the role of Dorinda, with a sweet voice and able of singing with dramatsm in arias such as Quando spieghi i tuoi tormenti.

Although the audience did not fill the hall, their enthusiasm was striking, applauding, even cheering, after many arias. In the end, they gave the cast an enthusiastic reception. This Orlando has turned out to be a pleasant surprise in this operatic season, in an enjoyable night with a notable cast and a breathtaking staging.

My reviews are not professional and express only my opinions. As a non English native speaker I apologise for any mistake.

Most of the photographs are from the internet and belong to its authors. My use of them is only cultural. If someone is uncomfortable with their use, just notify it to me.

Any reproduction of my text requires my permission.

Cuando volver a casa es peor que la guerra: Orlando de Händel, en el Teatro Real.

 

Madrid, 6 de noviembre de 2023.

Después de dos años, otra ópera del gran maestro Händel se representa en el Teatro Real de Madrid. En esta ocasión, se trata de Orlando, cuyo argumento, basado en una ópera, L'Orlando, de Carlo Capece, se remonta al poema épico de Ludovico Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, que también sirve de base para los argumentos de sus óperas Alcina y Ariodante. Si bien esta ópera no tuvo éxito en su estreno en 1733, con solo 10 representaciones, hasta su exhumación en el siglo XX. Hoy en día está vista como una de las más importantes óperas de Händel, con destacada discografía en tiempos modernos. El argumento, pese a estar basado en un clásico, no deja de ser inusual en la ópera barroca: trata sobre la locura de un héroe que descubre que el amor no puede ser para él. Esta ópera, poco frecuente en España, fue vista en Madrid hace cuatro años, en una visita en versión concierto de Il Pomo d'Oro en el internacionalmente famoso ciclo de Universo Barroco en el Auditorio Nacional. Ahora es el Teatro Real quien la pone en escena con sus propios medios, estrenándola en su escenario.

Claus Guth realiza un interesante paralelismo del argumento de esta ópera con la actualidad. Muchos soldados al volver del frente vuelven con secuelas a la vida civil, muchas de ellas psicológicas e irreversibles. Guth toma como referencia la película "Taxi Driver" de Martin Scorsese, con el protagonista volviendo enajenado de la Guerra de Vietnam, para su montaje. En esta ocasión, ambienta la obra en un modesto bloque de apartamentos, rodeado de palmeras y vegetación que nos sugieren una ciudad costera. Para ello, se sirve de un escenario giratorio que muestra el arruinado apartamento donde vive Orlando, una caravana que hace las veces de bar, la fachada del edificio, una escalera llena de vegetación, y una parada de autobús, a cuyo lado hay un anuncio de cerveza. Guth enfatiza la locura del héroe, el proceso de autodestrucción de un soldado con estrés postraumático. A su lado, Zoroastro hace las veces de su consejero, y de un borracho vagabundo que se involucra con los personajes. Dorinda tiene una tienda, que atiende vestida de Blancanieves, y los amantes Angélica y Medoro tratan de vivir su amor, aquí una tórrida pasión, en medio de este sórdido ambiente. A medida que avanza la acción y la locura de Orlando, un ambiente de terror, con el protagonista autolesionándose y sufriendo alucinaciones, impregna la escena. Los vídeos de Roland Horvath, de ROCAFILM, intensifican el ambiente autodestructivo con sus brillantes proyecciones. 

Ivor Bolton, al frente de la Orquesta del Teatro Real, logra una versión que va de menos a más, desde una obertura aceptable, hasta lograr un acompañamiento inspirado, y con destacada intervención de la viola. 

Christophe Dumaux, el famoso contratenor francés, interpreta a Orlando. Este montaje le exige una gran implicación no solo musical, sino física, ya que tiene que saltar o golpearse mientras canta o recita. Excelente su interpretación de arias de bravura como Fammi Combattere, así como a nivel actoral. Anthony Roth Constanzo interpreta a Medoro, con una voz con mayor volumen que la de Dumaux, destacándose en la larga y bellísima aria Verdi allori, donde además dio un pianissimo bello, largo y memorable. Florian Boesch es Zoroastro, el mago quien salva a Orlando de la tragedia que está a punto de cometer. Si a nivel actoral e interpretativo es impecable, a nivel vocal a veces se queda insuficiente, ya que para la autoridad de este personaje se echa en falta un poco más de grave. Su interpretación del aria Tra caligini profonde resultó desagradable, no por sus medios vocales, sino por la puesta en escena, que le obliga a entonarla como si estuviera ebrio, porque según el montaje lo está, además de alternarse con algún eructo, y con los gemidos de Angelica y Medoro que tienen relaciones sexuales no muy lejos. Las cantantes femeninas se perfilaron como lo mejor de la noche, tanto Anna Prohaska con sus excelentes interpretaciones de las arias de Angelica, mostrando habilidad con la coloratura, como agudos impecables; como Giulia Semenzato en el rol de Dorinda, con una dulce voz y capaz de cantar con dramatismo en arias como Quando spieghi i tuoi tormenti.

Aunque el público no llenara la sala, llamaba la atención su entusiasmo, aplaudiendo, incluso braveando, después de muchas arias. Al final, dio una recepción entusiasta al reparto. Este Orlando ha resultado ser una agradable sorpresa, en una noche disfrutable con un notable elenco y una sobrecogedora puesta en escena.

Las fotografías y vídeos no son de mi autoría, si alguien se muestra disconforme con la publicación  de cualquiera de ellas en este blog le pido que me lo haga saber inmediatamente. Cualquier reproducción de este texto necesita mi permiso.

The legendary Jahrhundertring: How Boulez and Chéreau changed Bayreuth for good.

A month ago, I began a titanic task: watching the famous Jahrhundertring, or "Ring of the Century", as the production that Pierre Boulez and Patrice Chéreau performed in Bayreuth between 1976 and 1980 is known. 

Every Wagnerian always happen to meet this production, which was staged to celebrate the 100th Anniversary of Richard Wagner's The Ring of the Nibelung, the greatest musical epic in the West. When it was filmed on video, in 1980, it not only inmortalised this staging, but also, it represented a step forward in the dissemination of this work, in a similar level like the legendary DECCA recording of Solti's Ring twenty years ago. It the Hungarian maestro's was the first complete audio recording on studio, Boulez's one was the first filming of the complete cycle, which at that time, in the golden the era of operatic television broadcasts, was a monumental task never done before. So, Wagner's music epic reached an audience of millions. Never before had Wagner's work reached so many people in a short span of time, and even if he would have wanted it, he certainly could not have imagined it.

What can I add that to what has been said about this staging? Wolfgang Wagner, in the most risky decision of his career, hired Pierre Boulez to conduct the event, and Boulez chose Patrice Chéreau, a young  director with very few Wagnerian notions, but with an inmense creativity. Until then, the scandals had been caused by Wieland Wagner and Götz Friedrich with their Tannhäuser of 1972. Wagnerian orthodoxy, already dissatisfied in itself since 1951, when in the Wagnerian temple the majestic naturalistic productions began to be replaced by the minimalist ones by Wieland and Wolfgang, more focused on dramaturgy and lighting, and always setting it in a mythical Norse era. If we also add the French nationality of the scenic team (alongside Chéreau, set designer Richard Peduzzi and Costume designer Jacques Schmidt), the wrath of the most conservative sectors of Bayreuth and the Wagnerian world was guaranteed.

Fights, boycotts, riots, threats of attacks, and according to Frederic Spotts, breakups of friendships and marriages, were the most immediate consequence. Critics and audiences were not only puzzled, but also divided. The Wagnerian associations of the time asked to destroy this production and finance a new one. Radio broadcasts inmortalised several boos and interruptions during the show. Many singers did not participate again in 1977. The orchestra revolted against Boulez, but Wolfgang Wagner prevented him from resigning. Even Winifred Wagner, stated that if she ever met Chéreau, she would kill him. But one year later, she herself told him in person, that it was better for a production to generate debate than for it to be boring. This production, together with Götz Friedrich's Tannhäuser, brought the regietheater to the Bayreuth stage and established it there. Nothing would be the same since then. And that's why, when this production ended in 1980, it received a 90-minute ovation. This filming would extend its influence to generations of fans and artists.

Chéreau sets the work in an era beginning with the early Industrial Revolution, until the rise of fascism, which unfortunately mirrored itself  with Wagner's 19th Century nationalism and continues to parasitize his work. Nowadays this staging would be completely classic and conservative, because many of the things from Wagner's original action are recognized despite the change of setting: swords, dragons, forests, ash trees, Valkyrie uniforms, magical fire... But we are in a work, in which the important thing are not the battles, dragons, the heroic deeds, since those are more mentioned than seen, but the feelings of the characters, how incredibly human they seem to us despite being so distant because of their mythological background, and the consequences of their actions. These gods are not powerful, but fragile, hypocritical, impulsive and fickle, like the politicians of Wagner's time,  Chéreau's time, and ours. Likewise the heroes, the dwarves and the giants. The Ring gives the title to the work because of the misery it involves for all of its holders, rather than the power that emanates from it. It is a version with political language, and also cinematographic language, although this is something that Wagner would anticipate decades before the invention of cinema itself.

Das Rheingold is set by Chéreau with a rawness and intensity that shows us the work in a different, in a way never seen before. The first scene is a hydraulic dam, in which the fog that emerges from it evokes the depth of the Rhine. Alberich is a dirty, drunk tramp, who is seduced by  the Rhinemaidens, here dressed as prostitutes or can-can cabaret performers. Gold does not shine from the bottom of the river, but appears through a floodgate. The Walhalla is not seen complete, only its monumental neo-baroque door, embedded in what appears to be an industrial building. Wotan and Fricka are a nineteenth-century bourgeois couple, but Froh and Donner appear dressed as two braggarts  from the previous century, devoid of vigor in front of the giants (because here they continue to appear as giants, which does not happen today), which the Freia's abandonment seems total. From the sewers appears Loge, dressed as a sinister, hunchbacked, long-nosed eighteenth-century official. That he appears from the ground makes it a link with Nibelheim, here an underground, a working-class neighborhood, with brick walls, where sunlight never reaches, where there is dirt and violence, with Mime as an impoverished foreman . The appearance of Erda as a mysterious, veiled figure is a nod to the belief in esotericism and the supernatural that existed in bourgeois circles of the time. The ending is terrifying, because Loge does not participate in the glory of the Gods, but tells the gods his real thoughts about them, to their own faces, and they, stunned after witnessing the death of Fasolt and after hearing the warnings of the daughters of the Rhine, are forced by Wotan to enter Walhalla, while Loge himself closes the curtain with a knowing look at the viewer: the end of the gods is near and he will be seriously involved in it.

Since Die Walküre is the journey in which more personal conflicts take place instead of heroic deeds,.Chéreau takes takes this to the limit, making a dramatic and theatrical reading of the action. The fact of having a young and attractive main couple like Peter Hoffmann and Jeannine Altmeyer means that, in addition to the obvious chemistry between the singers, the stage direction makes them overflow with passion on stage, at the end of Act 1, something never seen before in Bayreuth. In the first act, Hunding's house is the courtyard of a mansion. Hunding is an elegantly dressed landowner. In the center of the house there is an ash tree from which Siegmund draws his sword. In the second act we witness the duet between Wotan and Fricka in an undetermined place, with doors and a clock in the middle, possibly inside Walhalla. It is curious how Chéreau does not define its physical space, but rather gives details, clues to it, to reflect its superficial power, empty inside. The almighty Wotan here debases himself, he is not noble, but a coward, bound by conventions, who betrays his wife, his children. The third act is the most spectacular, with that rock of the Valkyries, a monumental ruin of what was once a palace, but totally credible. Chéreau depicts Brünnhilde as a brave young woman, but with a tenderness and innocence that the other characters do not have. And that, counterbalanced by Wotan's brutality, makes the third act very intense. In the end, Wotan only strikes his spear once, and fire and smoke emerge from the rock, leaving a spectacular scene at sight.

In Siegfried, Chéreau takes the action to the end of 19th century. Chéreau shows very well here the optimism and adventure that permeates the work. We can see, well depicted the thuggish  (which for me was always unbearable) and at the same time innocent temperament of the protagonist hero. This reading of the Ring portrays the darker and less noble side of Wotan, since from his position as a wise god he is arrogant, ambitious, and strives for power as much as Alberich. And it is in the duet with this one in the second act where we see the confrontation between two old men full of hatred and resentment, and in the same way with Erda, whom he attacks after getting her evasion in response. The threatening forest is present in the first act, in the background, in a brick house, in which stands an imposing forge oven. Siegfried appears dirty, with gnawed clothes, like a homeless man from the beginning of the last century. Another thing that is very rare to see today is the bear with which Siegfried torments Mime. Although it is out of context to see the modern pots and pans at the end of the forge, to see Mime putting one on his head while Siegfried forges the sword, which he does not hammer here (in fact the hammering is a recording). The second act has possibly what is the best recreation of the forest ever filmed on stage and added to the excellent lighting, one feels in the middle of it, one feels its heavy darkness (to which the work of the cameras contributes). A visually wonderful moment is that when Fafner's voice is heard, the treasure of the Nibelung is shown, shining. Although when the dragon becomes visible, the stagehands can still be seen moving the wheeled cart where it sits. The little forest bird is a real bird, although it is in a cage. The third act is equally impressive, in the first scene everything surrounded by fog, and then back to the impressive rock of the Valkyries. Here the acting direction manages to reflect Siegfried's fears upon seeing Brunnhilde asleep, and her hesitations and fragility after being awaken by him.

Götterdämmerung  is the most modern of the four journeys, since it sets the work in the 1930s, when the Great Depression prepared the way for totalitarianism in Europe. And perhaps this must have been the most shocking at its time, because for the first time in its history, the characters not only no longer wore traditional costumes, but they wore pants, trench coats, suits, and other street clothes. The mythical world of heroes and gods gave way to everyday reality on stage. And it is in these conditions that the actions of, for example, the Gibichungs appear most real: Gunther is not only the manipulable and pusillanimous character, but Chéreau deprives him of any nobility that his position gives him: dressed in a suit and bow tie, He is the typical void, posh politician who only has his appearance. Hagen, the brute, unrefined, poorly dressed, manipulative and scheming stepbrother, appears here as the mobster who pulls the strings in this clan, now depicted as a town in the coast, in the Depression era. Gutrune is a beautiful woman, dressed like a classic Hollywood actress, the friendly face of the regime. The beautiful rock of the Valkyries appears in the prologue completely dark, something that announces the frustration of the hopes of the previous journey. The Gibichungs palace is represented by two enormous columns, and the immense Rhine behind, which looks more like a sea, and in the background a miniature, a distant building, in an architecture reminiscent of fascist Italy. The second act is the most beautiful visually, since the Rhine is seen as extensive as a sea, while the houses of Gibich's subjects stand on one shore. The Alberich-Hagen duet, in the middle of the gloomy night, is a moment of great beauty. Then the chorus is seen, dressed in street clothes, as they are working class people.The third act shows the melancholy of the work in a masterful way: the dam in operation in the Gold, appears here turned off, in broad daylight, and the daughters of the Rhine are dressed poorly. Although the main climax is the funeral march: after the hero's death the curtain is lowered and many people gather to see his body. Then these people look towards the audience, and the camera focuses on their expressions of sadness: the people has lost their glorious hero, who was like them.

The Finale, as depicted by Chéreau, closes the cycle with a cinematographic picture: the imposing neoclassical gate of Walhalla appears burning, while the people gather around to look. But when the fire goes out, everyone bows. Suddenly, in amidst the remaining smoke, two young girls stand up and look at the audience, followed by everyone else. As it is a filmed performance without audience, after the last note of music, this image stands for a while, in a breathtaking silence, before fading.

Much has been said of Pierre Boulez's fast conducting, blamed to be impersonal. The maestro had to deal with hateful comparisons, as ten years ago the Ring was conducted by none other than Karl Böhm. In Rheingold his rendition is violent, energetic, and that speed translates into making the drama more active. Maybe it's the Bayreuth Orchestra, or the sound, but the performance of the prelude is powerful, with the wind creating a sound from the depths. Boulez does not give Wagner majesty, he makes his music dynamic and puts it at the service of dramaturgy. The prelude strings sound magnificent. However, it just seems a little less refined in the end. In Walküre, the strings in the prelude and the brass in the Hunding scenes and the second act reach a moment of splendor. However, this wanes in the third act, going too fast in the interlude before Wotan and Brunnhilde's duet, even the strings go too fast, breaking the climax, when Wotan sleeps and prepares his daughter, although the final magic fire music regains its beauty. In Siegfried, once again the light tempi are most noticeable where they should be least noticed: the torrent of emotions in which the work delves from the moment Siegfried enters the rock of the Valkyries to wake Brunhilde, until the end. In Götterdämmerung, Boulez continues with his electrifying and fast conducting, but matching with the drama. And certainly in the second act he reaches its zenith, highlighting the theatrical tension. In the interludes it is different: Siegfried's Journey across the Rhine sounds, energetic, but the Funeral March lacks some refinement, and the orchestra sounds rough more than epic or solemn. And although orchestrally Boulez's dynamic tempi fit well to the dramatic tension, in the final orchestral conclusion, the speed takes away a little of its apotheosis, but still moving. The brass is excellent in the brief prelude to the prologue and in Hagen's monologue in the first act.

The Festival Choir is at its excellent level. A curious fact, although not very relevant: you begin to see Asian choristers when two decades ago the choir was genuinely German. Some survivor of Winifred's era must have felt further reason for outrage.

If Boulez had to cope with hateful comparisons, the extensive cast would suffer even more, specially when fifteen years ago there were still Hotter, Neidlinger, Windgassen, Nilsson, Varnay, Greindl, Frick, Rysanek and King singing at the green hill.

Donald McIntyre has suffered a lot of criticism for his supposedly poorly sung Wotan. His woody and nasal tone may not stand up to comparison with Hans Hotter, but he is not denied to have a great voice, a considerable vocal projection, but it is not always pleasant and has guttural moments, but for the most part it can be heard and conveys power and a command of the role. At an acting level he has an imposing stage presence, depicting a violent, authoritarian, rather than noble Wotan.

Gwyneth Jones was criticized for "screaming" too much. And although this may seem true in her high voice, in general her singing is more than acceptable, she has personality and leaving behind her treble trouble (specially in Götterdämmerung) we are in front a great Brunnhilde. In Siegfried, she is tender on a musical and acting level, representing the fragility of the character. In Götterdämmerung, she gives  a memorable rendition of the second act, on a musical and acting level representing Brunnhilde's anger at being betrayed, and in the final Immolation, Despite her limitations, her performance is great, magnificent in many occasions.

Much has been said about Manfred Jung, about how he is the lowest point of this Ring. Certainly, they could have chosen a better Siegfried, since his voice at that time would have been, at most, suitable for Loge or David in Meistersinger. But even if his voice isn't pleasant, at least it has volume and the projection is firm. Nothing to do with many current tenors whose voices are fragile. But it doesn't excuse his poor voice, since in the high notes he is usually in trouble. At least as an actor he is excellent, as Siegfried is seen in his courageous, mischievous temper, and there is chemistry with Jones' Brunnhilde on stage.

Peter Hofmann and Jeannine Altmeyer are probably the best main couple in the cycle, and their performances became a hit in those times. Without being very splendid vocally (although nowadays they would be ovationed in every major houses), their performances are notable. Hofmann has that singular tone, but the middle register sounds heroic, almost baritonal. Altmeyer would sing Brunnhilde in the 80s, but her voice is more suited to Sieglinde, recreating a beautiful and sensitive woman, something that transcends her musicality. In Götterdämmerung she is a beautiful Gutune in every sense, although she does not stand out as much as Sieglinde.

Hermann Becht is not Gustav Neidlinger but he has a deep voice, and musically he is excellent even though he is a little high-pitched for the role. In Siegfried and Götterdämmerung he sings an older, resented and repulsive Alberich, notably being guttural in the former, and dark and ominous in the latter. In fact one of his best moments is the confrontation with Wotan in Siegfried and his duet with Hagen.

One of the highlights of the cast is the Loge and the Mime (from Siegfried) sung by Heinz Zednik. Zednik is here at the peak of his career, and is the big star of this cast. He is vocally impeccable, with that spieltenor voice that sings and expresses the character's double standards, and that grotesque tone, like Gerhard Stolze. As Mime, he doesn't have the same level at the beginning (he would surpass himself in his Met video recording, a decade later), but little by little he takes over the character, shining in the middle of the first act and in the second.

Another surprise in the cast is the great Matti Salminen, excellent as Fasolt and Hunding, with his spectacular deep, dark tone, which is at its best. Hanna Schwarz is an excellent Fricka, with a voice that is more dramatic than authoritative, and a feminine, sensual stage presence, and a delicious tone. Franz Mazura, with his villainous and nasal voice, might not initially be suitable for Gunther. But precisely this makes him fit into the repulsive portrait this staging gives to his character, and it results successful. Ortrun Wenkel is a well sung Erda, but she is better as a First Norn. Fritz Hübner is also a well sung Fafner, without being referential, better in Siegfried than in Rheingold. In Götterdämmerung he sings Hagen, but although as an actor he recreates the brute, mafia and repulsive side of the role, vocally he is just correct, not enough dark. Helmut Pampuch is Mime in Rheingold, a role he sang for more than twenty years at Bayreuth, with an excellent vocal and acting performance. In the rest of the cast there are future stars, such as Siegfried Jerusalem as Froh, Gabriele Schnaut as a Valkyrie and a Norn, supporting cast singers from that time such as Martin Egel's correct Donner, the excellent Norma Sharp as Woglinde and the Little Bird of the Forest, Carmen Reppel's delightful Freia, or Gwendolyne Killebrew, who is Waltraute in both Valkyrie and Götterdämmerung, in the latter being vocally good, in addition to a skilled acting (that cold look she gives her sister Brunnhilde when she hugs her, for example). The rest of the cast, Valkyries, Norns, and Daughters of the Rhine, is a good level although not at the same excellent levels as in past or later editions.

One does not understand the disdain of many conservative Wagnerians with the staging, considering that many things in Wagner's libretto are still recognized there. And one can watch last year's Ring in Bayreuth to understand it: neither the forest, nor dragons, nor gold, nor valkyries, nor shields, nor helmets can be seen. Not even any emotion. In this case, we are looking at one of the most important opera videos of all time, which consecrated the Regietheater in Bayreuth permanently. Chéreau achieves what Wagner wanted: his work to be talked about and to leave no one indifferent. Therefore, more than forty years since its filming and editing, this Ring not only is still fresh, and current, but maintains all its dramatic force, redefining our way of understanding this work.

I want to conclude this account by mentioning the no less must-see documentary of this production,  : while watching the Finale from Götterdämmerung (photo above), the presenter's voice announcing that the following Bayreuth Festival, the 1983 one, would havee a new Ring staging to commemorate the 100th anniversary of Wagner's death , stating that both the stage director, Sir Peter Hall, and the musical director, Sir Georg Solti, would find their justification in Wagner's music...

And we already know that their classic staging was an absolute flop, despite the fact that it was announced as a restorating return to the essential Wagner's stage indication, and had to face a strong comparison with Chéreau's work. What an irony!

My reviews are not professional and express only my opinions. As a non English native speaker I apologise for any mistake.

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