Tosca is an opera of such theatrical wizardry and dramatic
specificity that glomming a concept onto it can create more
problems than it solves — even for a director as serious and
gifted as Robert Carsen. His thought in this 2009 staging is
that Tosca and Scarpia are theatrical beings, playing out a
dramatic ritual, while Cavaradossi is the innocent pawn who
loses his life during their game. Once he is dead, and Scarpia
likewise done away with, Tosca has no purpose but to toss
herself off the stage.
The setting for the opera is a
theater. There is no church (we get it, the theater is their
church); the choir becomes little ballerinas and usherettes; the
congregants and clergy are instead an audience that's come for a
show entitled Tosca. Certain lines of text referring to crucial
locations or plot points become frustrating for the initiated
and confusing for the neophyte. There are a couple of
unintentional laughs, as when an eager fan asks the diva for her
autograph during a particularly unfortunate dramatic moment.
Intended to highlight the private-versus-public conflict of
celebrity, it nonetheless provokes a chuckle. (My drag troupe,
La Gran Scena, actually included the same moment in our
spoof/tribute to Tosca.) The well-staged murder of Scarpia also
becomes a bit silly when, once the diva dispatches the villain,
Carsen replaces Puccini's stage directions with something mildly
risible. The director's experience, skill and intelligence are
on display, but the heavy hand of a pervasive approach turns a
viscerally thrilling piece of theater into a somewhat leaden
piece about theater.
Nonetheless, fans of Jonas
Kaufmann will no doubt want to have this first video document of
one of his most exciting roles. Kaufmann stepped into the Met's
controversial new Tosca two seasons ago, galvanizing the cast
and breathing life into a rather lifeless affair. Here too, he
transcends his surroundings, offering spectacular singing and an
interpretation that works within and despite the direction.
Occasionally, his ravishing mezza voce singing might seem
precious — the opening of "E lucevan le stelle" and "O dolci
mani" — were it not so clearly underlined by a powerful
emotional connection, as is everything he does.
Emily Magee, in her first run of Toscas, offers a rich,
sturdy instrument, impressively controlled in the difficult
climax of "Vissi d'arte." Here, Carsen's idea — that we're
watching the diva in performance mode — works, as this is
already a subconscious element of the aria. Elsewhere, his
insistence that she is playacting all the time can get in
Magee's way and make the characterization too superficial. Magee
is less comfortable in the lighter moments of Act I, which
require nuanced delivery of dialogue with constantly changing
colors that reflect Tosca's personality. But she possesses the
big vocal guns for the role in the two succeeding acts, and it
will be interesting to see her in a production with a less
one-dimensional approach.
Thomas Hampson, also new to
his role, is too intelligent a singer not to turn in a viable
Scarpia, even if the part is not custom-made for his vocal
endowment. The supporting cast is fine, particularly the
creepily subservient Spoletta of Peter Straka. Paolo Carignani
leads the Zurich forces in a well-paced reading that doesn't
generate much orchestral excitement. The generally good video
direction is hampered by the shadowy lighting, which, for
instance, finds Kaufmann in the dark for "Vittoria! Vittoria!"
