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musicOMH |
Dave Paxton |
Verdi: La traviata, Royal Opera House, 14 January 2008
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Verdi's La Traviata
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After an unpredictably drab
first act, the Royal Opera's outing of La Traviata on Monday evening
inexplicably transformed into a gripping and brilliant piece of theatre.
Anna Netrebko and Jonas Kaufmann are a physically beautiful and musically
sensational pairing as Violetta and Alfredo. |
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Their increasingly intense and passionate
relationship provided the focus to the first night of this gripping revival.
But first things first. Act One - probably the most theatrically effective
single act in all opera - never truly shone. Some blame must lie with
Richard Eyre's otherwise magnificent production, for the set here is elegant
but too condensed, even claustrophobic, giving not enough of an impression
of the grand party that is taking place. Verdi's mature works famously
balance, for want of better words, the happy and the sad, and here, that the
party's opulence is constricted undermines the sense of tragic loneliness
that should pervade Violetta's climactic scena. The ironic contrast is lost,
and thus so is much of the drama.
Musically too, there were problems here on opening night. Maurizio Benini
conducted with alertness, but could overdose on pace in the choruses and
ensembles, leaving both voice and orchestra gasping, performers having to
battle to stay in time. The high strings had their moments of poor
intonation also, most problematically in the Prelude. Netrebko, as Violetta,
was theatrically gripping, and it was superficially pleasurable to wallow in
the sheer opulence of her sound. However, her expressive vocal delivery too
often strayed from Verdi's clear rhythms, vital to bring out. In the
glorious love duet, the tempo had to be noticeably and distractingly
manipulated to accommodate the soprano's coloratura. Kaufmann was
excellent with regard to rhythm, but he could be underpowered, the usually
startling tenor entry in Violetta's cabaletta here barely registering. The
act entertained, but it gave little indication of how engrossing the evening
would later become.
And engrossing it was. Eyre's production, though unashamedly traditional,
becomes increasingly brilliant as it progresses, the staging of Act Two's
second scene colourful and intoxicating in its grandeur and muscularity,
that of Act Three stupendous, with ghostly silhouettes and surreal visions
effectively evoking Violetta's mental confusion, and increasingly garish
lighting intentionally counterpointing the dark approach to the heroine's
death. This is a favourite production at the Royal Opera House, and it still
thrills, fourteen years after its premiere. To match, Benini's conducting
became gradually more secure: more idiomatic and increasingly sensitive.
In Act Two's difficult first scene (essentially a traditional double duet
for Violetta and Germont père with lengthy elaboration, as Christopher
Wintle's programme note explains), the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House
provided lovingly caressed phrases, delicate and heartfelt wisps of sound,
gut-wrenchingly underlining Violetta's sorrow. Surging chromatics also gnaw
constantly at the act's harmonic language, and they too were conveyed
arrestingly; the orchestral detail was great, the string pizzicati in the
Act Three Prelude immediately conjuring tension. Perhaps the one exception
to the rule - and it is a great exception admittedly - was the rendition of
Act Two scene two's concertante finale. Previously in this pithy scene,
Benini's breathlessly fast tempi had provided all the orchestral danger and
momentum needed, but I now wished for a more modest and lyrical approach:
the sound presented was overcooked and empty. Nevertheless, it was all
passionately played. The staging and conducting provided a strong platform
from which character drama could emerge.
And Netrebko was exceptional. Here is a true singing actress, blessed with a
gloriously rich, luxurious soprano, and also with completely convincing
dramatic powers. Her Violetta approached death in the most convincing and
captivating manner, spluttering, flailing and collapsing, every move
truthful and fully integrated into the committed characterisation. And her
voice, if it had seemed out of place in Act One's coloratura, bloomed in the
lyrical piano lines of Act Two and harrowed in Act Three.
Kaufmann was scarcely less good. Not as secure as he was in last year's
Carmen, he nevertheless characterised superbly in the potentially
unrewarding role of Alfredo, and sang increasingly ardently, his golden tone
in the opera's final ensemble particularly of note. The only real problem
was his singing of the Act Two cabaletta, in which projection was poor and
the interpolated top note was terribly, unhealthily strained. Otherwise,
this was a fine vocal and physical performance from the handsome tenor, and
I look forward to seeing his Cavaradossi later in the season. Dmitri
Hvorostovsky completed the central trio, instilling the elder Germont with
authority, as well as vocal dignity, some slight hoarseness in the famous
aria notwithstanding. The comprimarios, if none of them brilliantly sung,
did not distract from the thrust of the narrative. It was Netrebko's and
Kaufmann's night, and a complete standing ovation from the Stalls at the
opera's conclusion said a lot about how affecting an evening's entertainment
this had initially threatened not to be, and then wonderfully turned out to
be. |
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