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What's on Stage, 22 Jan 2015 |
By Mark Valencia |
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Giordano: Andrea Chenier, London, Royal Opera House, 20. Januar 2015 |
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Andrea Chénier (Royal Opera House)
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Giordano's opera of the French Revolution returns to Covent Garden in a conventional new staging
It's all in the arm, clearly. The Royal Opera's music director only has to
wave a stick at a potboiler like Andrea Chénier and it's practically a
masterpiece. Antonio Pappano's talent is a rare gift: his alchemic way with
Giordano's opera is pretty much the opposite of what befell Verdi's Un ballo
in maschera last month when, in lesser hands, great art became a daub.
More a star vehicle than a repertoire piece, this tale of the French
Revolution is popular among top-table singers when they're casting around
for a showcase. The Three Tenors all essayed the title role in their time,
and now it's the turn of – who else? – Jonas Kaufmann to man the tumbrels.
The historic André Chénier, a philosophical poet, was executed at the
end of the Terror when Robespierre took exception to defiant verse tracts
that he continued to produce even when in prison awaiting death. Sadly,
Giordano's version reduces this sharp-quilled provocateur (shades, alas, of
Paris, 2015) to a romantic purveyor of showstopping arias. In the opera it's
his lover who makes the grand gesture and his nemesis who chews the beef.
David McVicar's decision to give Andrea Chénier an über-realistic
production is a sensible one, because it trains the attention on a story
that's tangled enough as it is. Abetted by Robert Jones's solid, functional
sets he keeps things simple and draws the eye where it needs to go. There
are few set-pieces beyond a powerful moment in the first act when the
proto-revolutionary Gérard has shed his flunky garb and a horde of
sans-culottes has roared through hermetic world of the de Coignys' ballroom.
As the shaken aristocrats resume their dance, a bloodied tricolore falls
upon them like a giant guillotine.
"Frock-coated and
pony-tailed, Kaufmann's Chénier is a poetic Puss in Boots"
For the rest, expect an evening of straightforward tale-telling. Crowds bay,
lamplighters light, a tricoteuse clacks away at her knitting needles. The
opera's notional villain, Gérard, has one of the loopiest dramatic arcs in
all opera, but that's what makes him plausible. Baritone Željko Lučić sings
him with a wonderful dramatic amplitude and invests the character with a
hundred inner conflicts.
Eva-Maria Westbroek sounded too Wagnerian
early on, but once Maddalena evolves into a heroine her considerable voice
found its level. In the tragic final scenes with Chénier this consummate
lyric actress suggests an almost metaphysical sense of grace.
As for
Kaufmann, he's in his element. Frock-coated and pony-tailed, his Chénier is
a poetic Puss in Boots with a voice of liquid gold. On opening night, "Come
un bel di di maggio", the condemned man's farewell poem, elicited roars of
approval from buffs and adoring fans alike. Few punters are likely to feel
short-changed by their leading man.
Nor by the extensive and
distinguished supporting cast, I dare say, for the most part at least. Blink
and you'll miss the likes of Peter Coleman-Wright, Peter Hoare and Roland
Wood; but Rosalind Plowright brings the Contessa di Coigny to tremendous
life while Adrian Clarke excels as the revolutionary Mathieu. Carlo Bosi's
stalking ‘Incredibile' and Elena Zilio as tragic old Madelon also grab their
moments.
If the sum of its parts is less than the opera, there's
little that Pappano or McVicar can do about that. Let's hope the experience
of collaborating on Andrea Chénier prompts them to place their talents at
the service of a worthier cause next time. Il trovatore, perhaps? It's been
a while.
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