For some years now the opera world has reveled in the appearance
of many fine lyric tenors, with Juan Diego Florez leading the
charge.
The sad corollary has been a feeling that the
more heroic tenor sound — often called “spinto” — has gone
lacking for fresh talent. Rolando Villazon tried to move from
the light roles into the heavier, and a vocal crisis ensued. And
just recently we lost to a tragic accident Salvatore Licitra,
who a few years ago had seemed poised to attain true stardom in
spinto roles.
Now comes Jonas Kaufmann, German by birth,
and in his early 40s. His is a strong, masculine sound, as
handsome as the man himself. The vocal colors include deeper
hues, as with Placido Domingo, but his top seems to be more
reliable than Domingo’s often was. So far the greatest acclaim
has come to Kaufman in Wagner, but he is by no means limiting
himself to Lohengrin and Siegmund. His Don José for Covent
Garden made it to DVD, and now Decca has released a Werther from
Paris in 2010 and a 2009 Zürich Tosca with Kaufmann’s
Cavaradossi. Both DVDs put on display a confident, poised tenor
whose stardom obviously stems from a lot more than his good
looks. For some he may never be a true spinto in Italian
repertory, due to his nationality, but then those same fans (or
their “ancestors”) felt the same about Jussi Bjorling. His is a
different type of voice, larger and darker, but Kaufmann
probably has no qualms in following the great Swedish tenor’s
path.
Film director Benoît Jacquot’s Werther staging for
Paris (although initially presented at Covent Garden) leaves
wide open spaces for Kaufmann to fill with his stage presence,
which the tenor has no problem doing. The set for the first half
vaguely resembles a strand near a seashore on an overcast day,
while the second half is staged in a vast study, dark and
masculine in appearance. Director Jacquot uses these simple
surroundings as platforms for emotional interaction, rather than
symbolic display. Unfortunately, Jacquot, working with Louise
Narboni, indulges in some odd camera angles as a video director,
and he also makes use of backstage footage in a gambit that
proves initially interesting but ultimately annoying.
Massenet’s opera respects the Goethe source material almost too
much, as two hours with a dreary emotional wreck amounts to
around 119 minutes more than most people would want to spend,
even with such gorgeous music. Kaufmann’s Werther shines in his
opening paean to nature, the character’s only few minutes in the
opera not spent being a moody, lovesick drip. Even more
impressive, though, is Kaufmann’s ability to draw the audience
into Werther’s plight, so that the intolerable self-pity is
muted by a sense of larger social forces oppressing the
anti-hero. A big part of Kaufmann’s success lies with the sheer
power and authority of his voice. There is no resorting to sobs
or ostentatious drooping of the vocal line. Kaufmann lets the
inherent pathos of Massenet’s score fill out the emotional
picture.
As the object of Werther’s passion, Sophie Koch
plays too much to Charlotte’s modest beauty, both in demeanor
and voice — there must be some passion there to make us
understand the depth of Werther’s attraction. Ludovic Tezier, on
the other hand, is almost aggressively bland and prosaic as
Albert, the man Charlotte must marry to fulfill a promise she
had made. The veteran conductor Michel Plasson and the Paris
musicians unfurl gorgeous swaths of color and texture in
Massenet’s score. Decca’s two disc set has no bonus feature,
though the booklet does have more original material than the
usual DVD set booklet offers these days.
Robert Carsen’s
Tosca for Zürich would make the NY audiences that bayed at Luc
Bondy’s production for the Metropolitan howl and foam as if
rabid. Carsen sees Puccini’s take on the Sardou play as
anticipating the glory years of the American film studios, so
the sets and costumes (by Anthony Ward) play upon the libretto’s
settings to create a sort of mock film set, and at times a stage
proscenium. Most of it works quite well, as Tosca and Scarpia
are both inherently theatrical creatures, and Kaufmann’s
Cavaradossi is more in line with the strong, though not so
silent, type of leading man. A couple of bolder touches will not
work well for all viewers — whether it’s having Cavardossi’s
Madonna painting appear in Scarpia’s office during act two or
having Scarpia attack it with a knife. Your reviewer got a big
kick out of Tosca’s fatal leap taking place over the footlights
at the edge of a stage, topped with Emily Magee taking her solo
call in character. Others may not be amused. But the test of any
Tosca is if it can find the emotional truth of the drama while
breaking through the calcified stage directions that make the
drama too clichéd to make any impact, and Carsen does so, with
the invaluable assistance of his excellent leads.
Vocally, Kaufmann takes the prize. His solo pieces are gorgeous,
and he can roar out a “Vittoria” with the best of them. Magee’s
Tosca is best in the dramatic exchanges. Her large voice grows
gritty and unpleasant in extended lines, and though Carsen has
Thomas Hampson’s Scarpia applaud Magee’s “Vissi d’arte,” his
sarcastic look is unfortunately understandable. Hampson’s take
on Scarpia has freshness and edge, but it seems unlikely he will
take on this role at any of the larger American houses. By the
middle of act two, hoarseness scratches at the edge of his
voice. Taken together, though, all three leads are successful
enough to make this a very worthy competitor in the very crowded
field of Tosca on DVD.
An unfamiliar name, conductor
Paolo Carignani treats the score to a fresh approach, with
expansive pacing and an expert selection of orchestral detail.
The Zürich forces follow his lead beautifully. Decca’s single
disc set has a basic essay and synopsis in the booklet and no
on-disc bonus features.
Kaufmann will be in huge demand
for years to come, and US audiences will have to wait their turn
for his appearances here. With two fine DVDs such as these, at
least we have something of the tenor’s to watch while we wait.
