Koloraturen und Terror — 22-09-2009

by Georg Rudiger (Badische Zeitung)

Die jüngste Terrordrohung gegen Deutschland ist nur wenige Tage alt, da sieht man auf der Bühne des platter Aktualisierungen eher unverdächtigen Zürcher Opernhauses einen Islamisten. Er kombiniert olivgrüne Kampfklamotten mit Rauschebart und Mütze und schlägt gern mit der Faust auf den Tisch, wenn er nicht in einer Höhle mit einem Satellitentelefon hantiert oder mit gefesselten Händen auf dem Boden liegt, gekleidet in ein orangefarbenes Guantanamo-Kostüm. Es ist Anna Netrebkos Verlobter Erwin Schrott, der in Rossinis 1818 für Neapel entstandener Opera seria “Mosè in Egitto” die Titelpartie singt.

Moses war mutmaßlich weder Islamist noch Terrorist, aber für das Regieduo Moshe Leiser und Patrice Caurier spielt das keine Rolle. Der Prophet erinnert die beiden “in seinem Fanatismus an all die religiösen Führer gleich welcher Couleur, die sich im Besitz der einzigen Wahrheit wähnen”. Deshalb erstaunt es nicht, dass Moses’ bärtiger Bruder Aronne (mit hellem Tenor: Reinaldo Macias) mit Kippa und rhythmischen Gebetsbewegungen als Jude zu identifizieren ist. Die Ägypter mit ihrem Faraone (Michele Pertusi) repräsentieren in der Sichtweise der Regie die von der aktuellen Wirtschaftskrise gebeutelte westliche Gesellschaft, die Ziel terroristischer Gewalt wird. Statt ein Unwetter zu beschwören, lässt Moses am Ende des ersten Aktes zwei Bomben explodieren. Immer wieder taucht der zottelige Prophet auf, um die Partystimmung zu stören – bis er am Ende sein züchtig gekleidetes Volk doch durch das auf eine Leinwand projizierte Rote Meer führt, ehe die Ägypter von der Zürcher Unterbühne verschlungen werden. Soweit der Aktualisierungsversuch der Regie, der aus mehreren Gründen scheitert. Zum einen widersetzt sich Rossinis federnde, selbst im Pathos von großer Leichtigkeit und Eleganz getragene Musik diesem gewaltvollen Zugriff. Koloraturen und Terror – das passt nicht zusammen, zumindest nicht in der naiven, gänzlich ironiefreien Sichtweise von Leiser und Caurier. Zum anderen erzählt die dreiaktige Oper eine andere Geschichte – von Urvertrauen und Wortbrüchen, von der Flucht eines Volkes, von einer unmöglichen Liebe zwischen dem Ägypter Osiride (Javier Camarena) und der Hebräerin Elcia (Eva Mei).

Die Regisseure bebildern den auf Dauer erschreckend langweiligen Abend mit ungeheurem Aufwand (Bühne: Christian Fenouillat, Kostüme: Christophe Forey, Hans-Rudolf Kunz). Im ersten Akt ist ein Börsenraum eingerichtet mit Flachbildschirmen, Bürostühlen und einer Aktientafel an der Wand. Später werden zwei Designerküchen, ein Auto, ein Hotelzimmer und ein Büfett auf die Bühne gerollt. Sondereinsatzkommandos seilen sich von der Bühnendecke ab und prügeln lautstark mit ihren Schlagstöcken auf Moses ein – spätestens hier kann man diesen Opernabend nicht mehr ernst nehmen.

Leider liegt auch musikalisch vieles im Argen. Paolo Carignani versteht es nicht, das Opernorchester halbwegs sicher durch den Abend zu führen. Die Streicher vergeigen viele Rezitative, die Bläser wackeln, selbst die Schlagzeuger sind häufig nicht Herr des Geschehens. Es fehlen Präzision, Inspiration und vor allem Tempo. Die Partitur wird buchstabiert, statt interpretiert, die motorische Energie Rossinis entfaltet sich nur in wenigen Momenten.

Auch gesanglich hat man in Zürich schon bessere Abende erlebt. Am überzeugendsten sind Eva Mei als koloraturensichere, über viel lyrisches Potenzial verfügende Elcia und Sen Guo als ebenso bewegliche, feingliedrige Amaltea. Michele Pertusis Faraone ist zwar wuchtig, aber zu wenig nuancenreich – in der Tiefe ist sein Bass seltsam dünn. Auch Javier Camarena malt nicht gerade mit feinem Pinsel. Seine Spitzentöne sind zwar strahlend und kräftig – seinem nasalen Tenor fehlt es jedoch an Wendigkeit und Bodenhaftung. Neben dem soliden Peter Sonn (Mambre) gefällt vor allem Erwin Schrott mit seinem virilen, zunächst etwas ungestümen Bassbariton, der wie bei der Preghiera “Da tuo stellato soglio” (Von deinem Sternenthron), in der vor dem Exodus nochmals Gottes Hilfe erfleht wird, ganz zart werden kann.

Szenisch ist das Ensemble auf verlorenem Posten. Man steht herum, macht wie die immer gut singenden Zürcher Choristen ein absurdes Tänzchen im Bürostuhl oder wartet einfach, bis die hochgerüsteten Polizisten wieder verschwunden sind. Personenregie findet nicht statt. Warum auch? Die würde bei diesem wenig subtilen, aber heftig bejubelten Abend nur stören.

Kein Mitleid mit Börsianern — 21-09-2009

by Oliver Schneider (Wiener Zeitung)

Rossinis Vertonungen des Auszugs des Volks Israels aus Ägypten stehen nicht häufig auf den Spielplänen der Opernhäuser und Festivals. Heuer innerhalb von zwei Monaten gleich zweimal: Die spätere französische Grand Opéra-Fassung “Moïse et Pharaon” war ein glückloser Teil von Jürgen Flimms Salzburger Sommerprogramm; nun hat Alexander Pereira in Zürich die ursprüngliche italienische Fassung genutzt.

Die richtige Wahl, denn die beiden Handlungsstränge (der Machtkampf zwischen Moses und Pharao sowie eine unerlaubte Liebe des Nachwuchses) sind so miteinander verflochten, dass die Spannung über den rund zweieinhalbstündigen Abend nie abfällt.

Moshe Leiser und Patrice Caurier übertragen “Mosè in Egitto” auf die wachsende Ohnmacht der westlich-laizistischen Gesellschaft gegenüber religiösen Fanatikern jeder Couleur. Die Ägypter repräsentieren die materialistische Welt, die zu Beginn ansehen muss, wie die Börsenkurse ins Bodenlose sinken. Erst der religiöse Fanatiker Mosè lässt die Kurven wieder steigen. Gut und Böse lassen sich in dieser Inszenierung aber nicht eindeutig zuordnen. Der Pharao und seinesgleichen sehen sich als die besseren Menschen an, die jedoch permanent um ihre Sicherheit fürchten müssen. Die Machtlosen, bei Rossini die Israeliten, legen ihr Schicksal in die Hände der Fanatiker Mosè und Aronne und gelangen so in die Freiheit. Doch um welchen Preis für die Welt?

Leiser und Caurier und ihr Bühnenbildner Christian Fenouillat haben ein eindrückliches Schlussbild gefunden: Nachdem Mosè die Israeliten unter dem Meer durchgeführt hat – die das Meer repräsentierende Rückwand hebt sich –, ertrinken die Verfolger in einer Flutwelle. Nur der Pharao überlebt und sieht sich zu beruhigendem G-Dur Fotos von religiös begründeten Gräueltaten gegenüber.

Szenisch also ein Wurf, aber auch musikalisch. Der Pesaro-erfahrene Paolo Carignani beweist, wie sehr ihm Rossini im Blut liegt. Mit dem Zürcher Orchester widerlegt er das Vorurteil, dass Musik und dramatische Handlung schlecht zueinander passen, und arbeitet die Reichtümer der Partitur heraus. Ebenso eine Höchstleistung liefert der Chor, dem Rossini den tragenden Part zugedacht hat.

Die Elcìa von Eva Mei gehört musikalisch und darstellerisch zum Besten, was man bisher von der Sopranistin mit dem kristallinen Timbre erlebt hat. Javier Camarena ist ihr geliebter Osiride, mit agilem und höhensicherem Tenor, wenn auch zuweilen etwas unruhig liegend. Ein kontrastreiches Bass-Duo: Michele Pertusis Pharao tönt substanzvoll, während Erwin Schrott dem Mosè seine kernige Stimme verleiht, die in allen Lagen brilliert.

Moses, der Fanatiker, benimmt sich wie ein Terrorist — 21-09-2009

by Thomas Meyer (Basler Zeitung)

Die Aktien fallen, Investitionen bleiben aus, die Börse crasht. Diese Aktualitäten liessen sich auch als biblische Plagen deuten: kein Regen, Dürre, keine Ernte, Hunger. Umgekehrt betrachtet: Die Not, die Moses über Ägypten brachte, gleicht der aktuellen Wirtschaftskrise. Davon erzählt in der Zürcher Inszenierung nun Gioacchino Rossinis Oper «Mosè in Egitto», die 1818 und überarbeitet 1819 in Neapel uraufgeführt wurde.

Der Pharao will die Hebräer nicht ziehen lassen; seine Erlaubnis widerruft er mehrmals, worauf Moses jeweils noch eine Plage hinzufügt. Es ist Terror, den der Prophet hier anwendet, um zu seinem Ziel zu gelangen. Und er erreicht es. Die Geschichte endet bekanntlich mit dem Untergang des ägyptischen Heers im Roten Meer.

Es ist reiz- und effektvoll, diesen alttestamentarischen Stoff so zu aktualisieren, wie es nun das belgische Regieduo Moshe Leiser und Patrice Caurier am Opernhaus tun. Und es ist nicht unproblematisch. Schuld an der Krise sind in dieser Lesart die Hebräer; Moses erscheint als Bin-Laden-ähnlicher Fanatiker, in einer Szene wird er wie ein Guantánamo-Häftling traktiert.

Solche Übertragungen werden nicht allen Zuschauern passen. Immerhin konsequent, wie die Handlung in die Gegenwart verlegt wird, wobei noch weitere Ebenen ins Spiel kommen. Die Kostüme (Agostino Cavalca) sind ebenso modern wie das Bühnenbild von Christian Fenouillat. An Mafiafilme («The Sopranos») erinnert eine Szene in der Tiefgarage, wo der Pharao den unnachgiebigen Moses von Schergen zusammenstauchen lässt. Und wenn sich der Herrscher aller Ägypter am Frühstückstisch in der Einbauküche mit seinem Sohn Osiride unterhält und nach seinen Problemen fragt, sieht das aus wie in einer TV-Soap.

So entstehen ungewöhnliche, durchaus in sich schlüssige Bilder, die allenfalls in der Aufeinanderfolge nicht immer ganz stringent wirken. Mal werden die Ägypter als Börsianer dargestellt, dann wieder als feine Gesellschaft, die zuletzt aber auch noch als Heer fungieren muss, und bei den Hebräern sind nur Mosè und sein mit einer MP bewaffneter Bruder Aronne wie arabische Terroristen gekleidet, während die Flüchtlinge sonst an Juden aus dem Warschauer Ghetto erinnern.

Trotz dieser Ungereimtheiten entsteht eine farbige, lebendige Inszenierung, dies vor allem, weil die beiden Regisseure nicht an ihrem Konzept kleben, sondern die Figuren mit Leben und Gefühlen erfüllen. In der erwähnten Vater-Sohn-Szene etwa erscheint Michele Pertusi, ein beherrschter Bass mit Gewicht, ernstlich besorgt um seinen Sohn, der mit der Wahrheit nicht herausrücken will. Dessen Angst ist im wunderbar hellen Tenor von Javier Camarena (der einzig in den Tiefen etwas blass wirkt) auch körperlich spürbar. Überhaupt wird die Ambivalenz der Figuren deutlich: der so mächtige Pharao ist aus Liebe zu seinem Sohn wankelmütig, und dieser, eigentlich zärtlich in die Hebräerin Elcìa verliebt, ist zu jeder Brutalität bereit.

Die zentrale Figur des Stücks ist – sowohl emotional als auch von der Moral her – eben diese Elcìa, der Eva Mei immer mehr Wärme und Präsenz verleiht. Erwin Schrott als Moses erfüllt seine Rolle darstellerisch und vokal mit Kraft und wirkt wie ein unbewegliches Bollwerk in der Handlung.

Es ist ein gutes Zeichen, wenn der Star des Abends sich so überzeugend in Rolle und Konzept einfügt. Gerade in der Darstellung dieses Moses erweist sich, wie genau Leiser/Caurier in diese «Azione tragico-sacra» hineingeschaut haben. Rossini und sein Librettist Leone Andrea Tottola zeigen Moses nämlich als unerbittlichen Eiferer, der mit Härte vorgeht und dem es an wirklicher Grösse mangelt. Die Regie setzt diese Umdeutung einer zentralen Patriarchenfigur unserer Kulturgeschichte, die in der Vorlage vollzogen wird, auf glaubwürdige Weise um.

Zu Hilfe kommt den Regisseuren Rossinis Musik, die jede sakrale Schwerfälligkeit, wie man sie bei einer biblischen Opera seria erwarten könnte, umgeht, die äusserst wirkungsvolle Szenen aufbaut, aber auch Unerwartetes bereithält. Entsprechend wird sie nun in Zürich gestaltet. Gewiss: es wäre einmal interessant, auch die italienische Oper des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts – ähnlich wie Beethovens und Schuberts Musik – durch die Erfahrungen der authentischen Aufführungspraxis zu hören. Hier besteht Nachholbedarf. Aber der italienische Dirigent Paolo Carignani, zuletzt Generalmusikdirektor in Frankfurt, nimmt die Musik so agil und frisch, stellenweise fast schmissig, dass man ständig mitgezogen wird. Und das Orchester der Oper Zürich klingt richtig schön.

Im Übrigen sind selbst die kleinen Rollen bestens besetzt, so mit Reinaldo Macias als Aronne, Peter Sonn als Mambre und Anja Schlosser als Amenofi. Sen Guo als besorgte Pharaonenfrau Amaltea beschert dem Publikum einen der vokalen Höhepunkte des Abends. Die Leistung des Ensembles ist also insgesamt exzellent, und sie wird ergänzt durch den glänzend von Jürg Hämmerli vorbereiteten Opernchor, der zu einem zweiten Hauptakteur in der Oper heranwächst.

Nur den Schluss verschenken die beiden Regisseure, weil sie glauben, noch eins draufgeben zu müssen. Die Szene am Roten Meer, das sich für die Hebräer teilt und dann die Ägypter unter sich begräbt, brachte Rossini bei der ersten Uraufführung trotz musikalischen Erfolgs einige Buhrufe ein, weil sie so ungeschickt gelöst war. In Zürich nun überzeugt der Untergang der Ägypter szenisch sehr. Noch bedrückender wäre es wohl, wenn zu der darauffolgenden und das Werk auf geniale Weise abschliessenden Meeresstille nun auch eine leere Bühne erschiene. Stattdessen erhebt sich eine hohe Bilderwand, und sie zeigt uns noch einmal all die Schreckensbilder des Terrors, die wir täglich in den Tagesschauen sehen. Das soll wohl unter die Haut gehen, wirkt aber plakativ wie eine Benetton-Werbung.

Sex and blood and Mozart Don Giovanni – 15-08-2009

By George Jahn (Associated Press)

VIENNA — Blood. Glitzy costumes. Magnificent voices and gorgeous soloists. Clever directing.

Welcome to a very good production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni.

Friday’s staging Vienna’s Theater an Der Wien did not break new ground — the production first premiered in 2006.

But it has weathered well.

Directed by Keith Warner, this Don is more than a manic casanova who has had his way with more than 2,000 women in his life. The man is funny, tender, menacing — and ultimately pitiable, as he expires on stage in a plexi-glass case smeared by his own blood, rather than renouncing his licentious life.

Much of the credit goes to Erwin Schrott, a.k.a. Mr. Anna Netrebko.

Built like a god, and with a voice to match, Schrott’s Don Giovanni captivated the sellout crowd in the sculpted and gilt theater on the banks of Vienna’s huge farmer’s market.

Brutal? Yes, stabbing the father defending the honor of his daughter. Contemptible for the way he treats women as playthings? Surely.

But above and beyond all, Schrott’s Don was human, from the beginning — as a young rake concerned only with improving his “score” — to the final moments, when old but unrepentant, he goes to his own private hell.

A sinner? Yes, but above all, a man who remains true to himself.

Darkness. Death. Suffering. Mozart and librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte had it otherwise in the original, with all the main characters wronged by the Don taking to the stage one more time to sing of their personal redemption, now that the evildoer had been dragged to the eternal fires in a scene that they meant to be merely symbolic — not bloody.

Not Friday. The stage falls as the hero-villain expires. A dark ending at odds with the ‘dramma giocoso” — jocular drama – envisaged by Mozart and Da Ponte. But one that leaves a more lasting impression.

And if Schrott had star qualities, the stage was a veritable Milky Way on Friday.

Hanno Mueller-Brachmann was the perfect foil to Schrott’s Don as his manservant, Leporello. Both baritones, the two complemented each other perfectly — two men on a shared life journey, an 18th century Odd Couple of the 18th century who coexist only because they cannot exist apart.

Nina Bernsteiner was a wonderful Zerlina, the maid who is one of the Don’s many targets. And Markus Butter captivated as a lovingly doltish Masetto, Zerlina’s sweetheart.

And stone-faced in this particular case is meant as a compliment — Attila Jun, the commendatore, the father who dies defending his daughter’s honor only to consign the Don to hell comes back as a very convincing marble bust to carry out his final duty.

Also good were Veronique Gens as Donna Elvira, Aleksandra Kurzak as Donna Anna and Bernard Richter (Don Ottavio). They were superb solo, in their trio “Protegga, i giusto cielo” and other ensemble singing.

Warner put most of the action in a hotel — a good choice for the opera’s amorous theme.

Riccardo Frizza coaxed the most out of the ensemble in the pit — members of the Radio Symphony Orchestra Vienna. A special kudos to cellist Maria Gruen, who shone in some of the more tender love duets between the Don and his victims.

For George Bernard Shaw, Don Giovanni was “eminent in its uncommon share of wisdom, beauty and humor.”

He would have enjoyed Friday evening.

Incanto, leggerezza ed ironia nella briosa edizione barese de ‘L’elisir d’amore’ di Donizetti — 30-06-2009

by Enzo Garofalo (Cannibali.it)

“La poesia…consiste in ciò che si trova nel mondo, al di qua di quanto ci è permesso di osservare”. Ad affermarlo era il grande artista belga René Magritte la cui pittura attingeva al mistero indefinibile del reale ed il cui immaginario ha fortemente ispirato le splendide scene che Tommaso Lagattolla ha ideato per l’edizione barese dell’opera ‘L’elisir d’amore’ di Gaetano Donizetti, andata in scena il 29 giugno allo Spazio 7 della Fiera del Levante, ultima opera del cartellone della Fondazione Petruzzelli prima della pausa estiva. Se infatti è dal mondo reale che questo delicato e poeticissimo melodramma giocoso attinge le dinamiche del sentimento d’amore, di fatto poi le traspone in una dimensione quasi fiabesca, il che certamente ne spiega, insieme alla bellezza della musica, l’ininterrotto e diffuso successo a partire dalla sua prima messa in scena nel 1832 al Teatro della Cannobiana di Milano. Con incanto, leggerezza ed ironia Donizetti ed il suo librettista Felice Romani raccontano, ambientandole nei Paesi Baschi, le vicende della ricca e colta fittavola Adina e dell’umile contadino Nemorino che s’innamora perdutamente di lei. Egli fa di tutto per conquistare l’amore della ragazza che, indispettita dalla sua corte, sta per sposare Belcore, sergente di un esercito di passaggio. Ispirato dalla storia dell’amore di Tristano e Isotta che la stessa Adina ama narrare ai suoi villici e dal ruolo che in essa ha una certa magica pozione, Nemorino decide di acquistare dal ciarlatano dottor Dulcamara un magico filtro (in realtà del semplice vino Bordeaux) che dovrebbe aiutarlo ad accattivarsi l’attenzione della fanciulla ritrosa e civetta. A furia di assumere la ‘misteriosa’ bevanda il giovane si ubriaca e mancando del denaro per acquistare un’ulteriore dose finisce con l’arruolarsi nell’esercito di Belcore, mentre Adina commossa per il gesto gli confesserà il proprio affetto. Belcore accetta di buon grado la sconfitta d’amore, mentre Dulcamara lascia il villaggio decantando le proprietà del suo ‘prodigioso’ elisir.
Testualmente tratto da ‘Le philtre’ (Il filtro) di Eugène Scribe, da un punto di vista più strettamente musicale l’Elisir è discendente sia della vecchia opera buffa settecentesca che della sublime inventiva rossiniana, su cui però si innesta la personalissima cifra melodica di Donizetti insieme a quella sua capacità di saper far sorridere e commuovere al tempo stesso. Umorismo sì, ma condito da sentimenti presi dalla vita reale come lo struggimento dato dalla passione frustrata e dalla delusione per una speranza mal riposta. Le inquietudini che attraversano l’animo di Nemorino ne fanno una persona dalle emozioni autentiche, per quanto impacciata e poco intraprendente. E realistica appare anche la figura di Adina che pur civettuola non è priva di un suo certo acume, per cui appare improbabile che potesse mai provare degli autentici sentimenti d’amore verso uno che come Belcore canta “Son galante, e son sergente”: non a caso, sia pure dopo un contorto intrecciarsi di circostanze – questo sì decisamente romanzesco – entra in sintonia con i fremiti del cuore di Nemorino, la cui audacia finale è dettata più da un disperato desiderio d’amore che non dalla cieca fiducia nell’elisir di Dulcamara. Significativa in proposito è la romanza ‘Una furtiva lagrima’ da lui cantata quando si accorge di una lacrima negli occhi di Adina che gli rivela l’amore di lei. Decisamente efficaci nella resa vocale e scenica dei due protagonisti, sono stati il soprano Roberta Canzian, una temperamentosa e accattivante Adina, e il giovane tenore russo Alexey Kudrya, che è riuscito a tratteggiare un Nemorino molto meno sciocco e imbranato del solito. Apprezzabile anche la performance del baritono Luca Salsi, un Belcore impettito e borioso al punto giusto.
Più tipicamente da farsa invece il personaggio del ciarlatano Dulcamara, tuttavia anch’esso non privo di legami con la realtà in quella sua ostinata arte di arrangiarsi e di imbrogliare che tanto ricorda un certo diffuso costume italiano. Ed è tutto su una accentuata comicità d’azione e di dizione che lo ha caratterizzato il fisicamente prestante basso uruguaiano Erwin Schrott, notevole per potenza vocale e capacità di dominare la scena attraverso divertenti e caricaturali sketch condivisi con un suo muto e buffo assistente magistralmente interpretato dall’attore Pasquale De Marzo. Positivo anche il contributo del soprano Filomena Diodati nel più defilato – sul piano canoro – ruolo della villanella Giannetta. Ottima la performance del Coro della Fondazione Petruzzelli come sempre mirabilmente guidato dal M° Franco Sebastiani.
L’Orchestra della Provincia di Bari dal proprio canto ha portato a termine una buona esecuzione musicale dell’opera sotto la guida della canadese Kery-Lynn Wilson che, se si esclude la scelta di alcuni tempi discutibilmente lenti in alcuni passaggi, ha offerto una lettura abbastanza equilibrata della frizzante partitura donizettiana.
Un’opera così spumeggiante per quanto a tratti velata di malinconia, si è prestata alla perfezione alla dinamicissima regia concepita da Francesco Esposito, piena di simpatiche trovate teatrali, come quella della euforia erotica creatasi intorno al gruppo di soldati di passaggio, che vede improvvisamente coinvolti tutti i contadini (uomini compresi!), o quella delle villanelle discinte che, appresa la notizia dell’eredità d’un tratto toccata in sorte a Nemorino a causa della morte di uno zio, cercano di sedurlo a tutti i costi. Ad arricchire la regia è stato rilevante anche l’inserimento di movimenti scenici curati dal coreografo Domenico Iannone. Di Francesco Esposito anche i coloratissimi costumi in stile tardo settecentesco ben armonizzati con una scenografia costituita da tre piccole case semoventi dalle finestre illuminate (una di esse è la rivendita di illusioni di Dulcamara) e da diversi e ben coordinati accessori di scena per la quale, come già accennato, il talentuosissimo Tommaso Lagattolla si è ispirato alla pittura di Magritte, ai suoi colori, alle sue nuvole, alle sue mele, al suo ‘impero della luce’ e più in generale al suo stile da illustratore che ha contribuito a sottolineare la componente fiabesca dell’opera.
Numerosi e convinti gli applausi del foltissimo pubblico che ha gremito la platea dello Spazio 7, confermando l’immutata popolarità di questa gradevolissima opera.

Doktor Faustus di Gounod — Valencia 8/2/2009

by Carlo Lanfossi (Il Giornale della Musica — English version here.)

«La corrispondenza fra arte e vita è argomento più che abusato negli allestimenti di melodrammi, ma mai è stato sfruttato così bene come in questo Faust di Gounod andato in scena nell’avveniristico complesso valenciano Palau de les Arts: lo spettacolo, nato a Covent Garden nel 2004, è uno dei più riusciti del talentuoso regista David McVicar, il quale sposa il tema di fondo del Doktor Faustus di Mann facendo del protagonista non già un medico, bensì un compositore. Da qui, il continuo gioco di rimandi fra realtà (la Francia dell’epoca di Gounod) e il teatro: il tutto animato da un lavoro di recitazione sui personaggi che è firma di lusso del regista scozzese. Moltissimi gli esempi che andrebbero citati da questa produzione che è Teatro vivo ad ogni scena, ma su tutte spicca la scelta di inserire i balli durante la notte di Walpurgis: qui, non più una grotta oscura, ma un palcoscenico su cui Faust assiste impotente alla pantomima danzata e grottesca dei protagonisti e delle loro vicende, guidati da un Méphistophélès travestito. Se il dramma è maschera e finzione, così i sogni di Faust-artista si infrangono con l’ambiguità di teatro e vita. Tutto questo non sarebbe possibile senza un cast che sappia rendere credibile un konzept registico così spiccato: Vittorio Grigolo è un protagonista vocalmente un po’ troppo spinto, ma sembra nato per questo spettacolo, così come l’avvenenza fisica e la possanza vocale di Erwin Schrott disegnano un maligno dal fascino estremo. Più sciapa, ma tecnicamente ferratissima, la Marguerite di Alexia Voulgaridou, mentre la bacchetta di Frédéric Chaslin si limita ad accompagnare, mancandole quelle nuances che la ricca partitura di Gounod offre. Successo straordinario per un pubblico la cui età media è circa la metà di un normale teatro italiano.»

Schrott seductive as ‘Don Giovanni’ – 02-10-2008

by Bradley Bambarger (The Star-Ledger / nj.com)

«Mozart’s three operas written with librettist Lorenzo Da Ponte are comedies about a serious thing: sex. Two of these revolve around the complications that arise when sex rubs up against issues of class (“Le Nozze di Figaro”) and loyalty (“Cosi fan Tutte”). With “Don Giovanni,” it’s the tragicomedy of sex and morality — the culpability of both the seducer and those who want to be seduced.

In the Metropolitan Opera’s “Don Giovanni,” Erwin Schrott plays Don Juan as demonic peacock, strutting on stage with his muscled chest just out in front of his arrogant pout. This compulsive rake is an emotional nihilist who loathes the losers in his seduction games — those women in thrall to his looks and skills despite what they know and say. Sometimes the rogue has to trick his prey; sometimes they’re asking for it.

Schrott is the Don of the day, a 35-year-old Uruguayan bass whose career ascent has been measured (top prizes at Placido Domingo’s 1998 Operalia competition notwithstanding). Now, he has a Decca record deal, as well as his share of celebrity headlines. The world’s hottest opera star — Russian soprano Anna Netrebko — had his baby last month.

These days, opera singers have to look their parts, as well as sing them. Schrott’s Latin looks provide ideal verisimilitude for a Don Juan (think Antonio Banderas). Director Gina Lapinski takes full advantage, having him shirtless in the opening scene. But Schrott’s virile voice fills the bill, too. His tone is coffee-colored; his phrasing beautiful but dramatic, like heightened speech. He is also a natural stage creature, radiating energy.

The entire cast is excellent. Bulgarian soprano Krassimira Stoyanova plays Donna Anna. She is nearly raped by Don Giovanni, who kills her father, the Commendatore, somewhat reluctantly when he attempts a rescue. (The Commendatore’s ghost will haunt the Don by the end, although Schrott plays haunting better than haunted.) Stoyanova got Wednesday night’s biggest cheers for an exquisitely shaded “Non, mi Dir,” the aria where she puts off her fiance until she can resolve her Don Giovanni issues (ostensibly revenge, but maybe it’s not that simple).

Isabel Leonard is sweet of face and voice as Zerlina, who nearly succumbs to the Don on her wedding day but is able to soothe her ruffled fiance with a coo or two. Susan Graham has the hardest role, as Donna Elvira, an older woman who, despite her protestations, keeps falling for the rogue, to his disgusted amusement. The strong American mezzo seems a bit uncomfortable playing a patsy, but she sings stylishly.

As for the guys who don’t get many points for being good, tenor Matthew Polenzani, as Anna’s intended, makes the most of his haplessly lyrical moments. Joshua Bloom, as Zerlina’s Masetto, looks and sounds like he could play Don Giovanni, if given a chance. The opera’s heart is Leporello, Don Giovanni’s semi-reluctant right-hand man. Italian bass Ildebrando D’Arcangelo (who also looks Don-worthy) fills the part with subtle warmth, his “Catalog Aria” low-key but charming.

The ensembles of mixed emotions, from trios to septets, came together wonderfully on Wednesday, and the Met orchestra played with its usual acuity. Conductor Louis Langree — director of Lincoln Center’s Mostly Mozart Festival — has a leaner, more period-influenced way with the composer than has often been heard at the Met. But his phrasing seems more apt for light than shade, as the ever-incredible overture and “stone guest” scene could have used a darker power.

For all the hearts racing on stage, Marthe Keller’s rather conservative 2004 production lacks the conceptual edge that a 21st-century “Don Giovanni” should have. Still, designer Michael Yeargan’s stone walls are evocative of the Don’s hard heart, the shadowy spaces just right for those who don’t care.»

The Seduction Catalog: A Bad Boy on the Prowl – 29-09-2008

by James R. Oestreich (NYTimes)

«Marthe Keller’s production of Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” at the Metropolitan Opera opened in March 2004, several months before Peter Gelb was named the company’s next general manager, and it was revived a year later, many months before he actually took control. But in its current revival, which opened on Saturday afternoon, this production stands as a plausible representative of the Gelb aesthetic that elevates theater to a near par with music.

With rudimentary but versatile sets by Michael Yeargan, Ms. Keller takes the monumentality of the Met stage in stride rather than trying to amplify it, as Franco Zeffirelli had done in the production that hers happily replaced. No one is lost in dark corners, and the focus of the action is always clear despite Jean Kalman’s subdued lighting. The singers are attractive and mostly believable in their roles, and many are more than passable actors.

The Uruguayan bass Erwin Schrott, in fact, may be the Don Giovanni of choice today, acclaimed at least as much for his acting as for his singing. Taking the role for the first time in the house (having sung it with the Met in Japan in 2006), he inhabited it animalistically, all but panting toward the next sexual adventure. So much was he the character that his singing seemed to flow out as naturally as speech, well paced and well tuned if not always glamorous in tone.

Ildebrando D’Arcangelo, after some stiffness in his opening number, proved an excellent foil as Leporello, matched closely enough with Mr. Schrott in voice, physique and manner that their exchange of costumes worked seamlessly and all the more hilariously. Without slighting the comic possibilities, Mr. D’Arcangelo made the character genuinely affecting.

Susan Graham’s innate dignity was somewhat undercut in the role of Donna Elvira by the otherwise effective costuming of Christine Rabot-Pinson and stage direction of Gina Lapinski. Were those garish red gloves in the first act supposed to set off the big head of hair (more orange than red to my eyes)? With most of the stock mugging behind her in the second act, Ms. Graham fared better. But her singing, for all its admirable qualities, still lacked a certain fire that the role demands.

Matthew Polenzani sang beautifully as Don Ottavio, with a rich, sure tone, and made the best of the hapless character. But set against his youthful appearance, Krassimira Stoyanova seemed a bit matronly in her bearing, and her soprano, though ranging freely through registers and dynamics, sometimes had a hard edge that spread throughout her last aria.

Isabel Leonard inhabited the role of the impudent, innocent Zerlina as thoroughly as Mr. Schrott did the Don, and the chemistry between them was sizzling. Her singing was fresh, effervescent and lovely.

Joshua Bloom, making his Met debut as the bluff Masetto, more than held his own in this exalted company. Phillip Ens was a sturdy Commendatore.

Louis Langrée, one of New York’s foremost Mozarteans, as music director of the Mostly Mozart Festival, conducted, and he made a fine job of the second act. The first was plagued by slippages, major and minor, between stage and pit.

For the rest, the orchestra displayed its typical agility and finesse. Among its finest moments was the simplest: the plush underlay of Don Ottavio’s aria “Dalla sua pace,” as gorgeously rendered as the melody above it.»

Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Festival – 29th March 2008

(from Al Arab Online)

«The first week of the 5th Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Festival had set a very high-standard of musical quality and pushed audience enthusiasm to frantic levels. Indeed, after the world class performances of the London Philharmonic, the powerful and soulful revival of Arabic Classics with Asmma Monaoar and Khaled Selim and the Bolshoi triumph, one might have wondered what this 5th Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Festival had in stock to keep up with such ground-breaking performances.

The challenge was met by ADMAF on the evening on the 29th of March at the Emirates Palace Auditorium. Indeed, the Bolshoi Orchestra was there again that evening, but not to play to the gravity-defying, ever so graceful dancers, but to a different type of other-worldly talents: opera singers.

In this Opera Gala, Anna Netrebko, the internationally acclaimed soprano performed with the graceful mezzo-soprano Elina Garanča and the no-less talented Erwin Schrott to a full house comprising His Excellency Khaldoon Mubarak, Chairman of the Executive Affairs Authority and CEO of Mubadala, His Royal Highness Prince Michael of Kent and many distinguished guests from the Emirati and foreign community. A detail was telling of the expectations raised by the sweeping international attention this 5th Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Festival has drawn: two Kuwaiti visitors confessed they had come specially from their home country to attend this evening’s performance.

The first half of this evening’s performance was Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart’s and began with Le Nozze de Figaro’s Overture: a fitting choice to debut this Opera Gala as the energetic, immensely pleasing opening statement of this famous W.A. Mozart masterpiece gave a sampler of how melodic, powerful and quite simply merely entertaining the rest of this evening would be. Alexander Vedernikov’s conducting was generous and energetic as he skilfully led the orchestra and the audience into this evening of opera.

Enter the divas! Netrebko and Garanča appeared on the stage in glittering dresses, looking stunning: if their appearance had anything to do with their performance, it promised to be stellar. And indeed it was. Their performance of the love duet “Ah perdona il primo affetto” was vibrant and engulfed the audience in all the emotion the Opera has to offer. The audience thundered in applause as the two singers left the stage.

Erwinn Schrott appeared, bringing his relaxed, friendly charm to the stage: his interpretation of the Don Giovanni extract “Madamina, il catalogo e questo” was extraordinary: in addition to the perfect singing, the audience simply saw a wonderful actor’s performance. Working the stage playfully; skilfully involving the audience and the orchestra in his rendition of the list of Don Giovanni’s many conquests across Europe, Schrott demonstrated how the Opera was not only about vocal skill but about emotion, acting and storytelling, making it an immensely elaborate and entertaining form of music. This was followed by another excerpt of “La Clemenza di Tito” in which Elina Garanča lent her commanding presence and her perfect performance to this piece, literally hypnotizing the audience.

Another of the many highlights of this first part of the Gala dedicated to Mozart was “D’Oreste D’Aiace” performed by Netrebko. Quite the opposite of the playful Don Giovanni excerpt, this tormented and anguished piece provided an extraordinary opportunity for Netrebko to propel the audience in another world, that of anger and madness of her character Electra. Netrebko’s mastery was such that her virtuosity never was the issue: it was simply and powerfully serving the notes of Mozart and this terribly expressive song that accelerates and stops, bursts in laughter of dementia and is absolutely unpredictable as can be anger and madness. The audience hit new heights of frenzy as it clapped on and on to salute Netrebko’s perfectly tormented performance.

The three singers returned to the stage after a March from Idomeneo in order to perform “Soave sia il vento”, one of the songs that sets the story of Mozart’s “Cosi fan Tutte” in motion: Schrott’s Don Alfonso was acted perfectly as were Netrebko and Garanča playing the two fiancés wishing gentle winds to the men they love: Don Alfonso’s deceitful friendliness and both women’s shared concern for their loves was a powerful and very unique combination, based on moving individual performances, but just as much on an intricate chemistry between the performers. This perfect balance served Mozart and the audience superbly.

The audience avidly applauded, already missing Netrebko’s, Garanča’s and Schrott’s magic, be it only for a short intermission. The conversations amongst the festival-goers during the interval gave the clear impression that the audience that night was a mix of seasoned opera lovers and first-timers: an interesting, yet challenging mix, as the program and performance could easily loose one part of the audience, while catering to another part. Based on the enthusiastic applause in the auditorium moments earlier, but also on the very interesting conversations between opera fans and opera debutants, one could feel that the excellence of the performances that evening combined with the very smart programming made this Opera Gala directly speak to the heart and soul of all present. Quality has this equalizing effect: it simply elevates all those that it touches to the same levels of bliss. This was definitely the case in the Emirates Palace auditorium that evening, during the first part of the Opera Gala. It would be even more so moments later, when the audience regrouped for what would be one of the defining moments of the 5th Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Festival…

The Bolshoi orchestra did not leave anytime for pause for the audience: Verdi’s “La Forza del Destino’s” Overture masterfully cast a cloud of threat and power, those of destiny as the title indicates, over the auditorium. A very fitting introduction as the following piece was one from Verdi’s Macbeth. Demonstrating the range of his voice and his acting, Erwin Schrott returned to the stage to perform a riveting song over the course of which General Banco expresses his feelings that threat looms over him. The beginning of that song was particularly impressive on the part of Schrott as much as the orchestra: indeed, the singer’s a cappella performance was nothing less than perfect, engulfing the audience in the General’s sense of doom, while the orchestra responded ever so lightly, in both a moving performance and one that let Schrott’s acting and singing fill the auditorium. The audience could only salute such heights with powerful, spontaneous applause.

The program that evening simply would not let the audience enjoy one minute of respite, taking them from one emotion-filled performance to another. Seconds after Schrott left the stage, Anna Netrebko came back to the stage, resplendent in a red dress. It was time for the opera equivalent of a “hit”: “Casta Diva”, a fitting title to describe the opera legend standing onstage. Netrebko was in a trance: she let herself be carried by Bellini’s music, and engulfed in the emotion of the music, she passed it on to an audience simply overwhelmed by the beauty of it all. As the song ended with Netrebko’s perfect, soulful a capella ending, the orchestra could only respond subtly with the last few notes written by Bellini as a closing statement. The conductor Vedernikov did not break the spell cast by Netrebko’s voice, as he delivered those last notes with a very subtle touch, in order to leave the dumbstruck audience fully immersed in Netrebko’s soulful performance.

The applause continued relentlessly well after Netrebko left the stage. Garanča appeared, her too in a new dress, reminiscent of a flamenco dress. “Nacqui all affanno” from Rossini’s La Cenerentola is a paradoxical piece: indeed it is a recollection of hardships of the past at a moment of happiness of the present. Garanča’s interpretation managed to set both those elements in her performance, providing the audience with a prime example of how the opera is not an exercise of vocal power, but quite the contrary, one of subtlety both in voice and in acting.

This Opera Gala was truly voyage across Europe and its opera: after Mozart’s take on European classics such as Don Giovani or le Nozze de Figaro, the second part offered us Scottish Macbeth to the Italian tunes of Verdi, or as the musical transition would propose a “sinfonia” of “Il Viagio a Reims”, a regal piece, describing the convergence of European leaders to Reims for the coronation of Charles X.

Garanča was the one wearing the flamenco dress, but Netrebko would be the one leading the audience to Spain through the notes written by French composer L. Delibes and the words of French romantic poet Alfred de Musset. “The Girls from Cadiz” was a blissful description of Spain, Netrebko singing in a subtle, playful yet concentrated performance, her arms slowly and gracefully raised in a posture reminiscent of a flamenco dancer.

Spain seen through the inspiration of French composer remained onstage till the end of this second part of the Opera Gala, with Bizet’s Carmen, and more specifically Schrott performing a powerful, manly “Toreador” and Garanča playing masterfully with “La Chanson Boheme’s” high notes and expressive escalation. Bizet’s classics were both grounds for perfect performances and sheer entertainment, a combination that led the audience to an unstoppable thunderous applause, as the performers came to the stage to bow gracefully.

The audience responded by an enthusiastic standing ovation and continued its applause on and on. The performers disappeared and reappeared on the stage, as the applause unrelentingly went one for more than 5 unwavering minutes of grateful salute to the artists, as “bravos” and “encores” rang through the audience.

After this long, deserved salute, the performers graced the audience with an encore: “La Ci Darem la mano” from Don Giovanni. In a beautiful game of complicity between the singers, and with both the audience and the orchestra, Netrebko, Schrott and Garanča playfully performed this piece over which the male lead is playfully torn between two women… as the song and quite simply the fun escalated to a frenzy, Netrebko took the conductor Vedernikov with her, as the orchestra played on, the singers sang on, leaving the stage, and the audience simply sprang back to a standing ovation drowning the last notes in their irrepressible urge to salute the artists that had swept them off their feet.

Generosity was truly in the auditorium that night, as the performers seemed to greatly appreciate their audience, and the audience spared no efforts to express their recognition. The Opera Gala was a powerful, key moment for the 5th Abu Dhabi Music and Arts Festival as it demonstrated how an uncompromising quality driven approach to music and culture can be all inclusive, leaving room for all, be it seasoned music lovers or intrigued first timers. This evening was a shining example of what Abu Dhabi has to offer world performers –generous, appreciating, sophisticated yet spontaneous audiences- and what those performers can bring to Abu Dhabi.»

Ópera en concierto: Le dernier jour d’un condamné – Valencia 12-02-2008

by Joaquín Guzman (abc.es)

«Éxito sin paliativos de los Alagna en un Palau de Les Arts, que llenó en sus dos terceras partes el auditorio superior. No fue un aplauso de compromiso sino sincero. Pero no es oro todo lo que reluce: David Alagna es todavía un joven compositor y se nota. Se entrevé cultura musical, lo que es arma de doble filo y debe despojarse de clichés y lugares comunes si quiere encontrar un lenguaje propio. No orquesta mal y en su música hay esfuerzo y propósitos, quizás demasiado ambiciosos, y los resultados son cuestionables. Falta inspiración y abundan los pasajes en una suerte de Adagio Lamentoso iniciados por una nota pedal descriptiva de la irrespirable escena, desembocando en cierta monotonía. La visita de diversos personajes al condenado la dotan de una frescura y ritmo que se echan en falta en no pocas ocasiones. David Alagna parece querer abarcarlo todo y se queda en el intento convirtiendo la partitura en previsible. Esto oí y lo hago mío: «Quizás una música demasiado blanda para una historia tan dura» El tiempo juzgará.

Roberto Alagna es un tenor controvertido. Se reparten por igual sus detractores y admiradores. Alagna es un artista muy estimable con una media voz sólida, facilidad, brillantez en el agudo y suficientes medios. Su timbre es expresivo y musical. Le falta sin embargo matizar más. Dio lo mejor de sí mismo, no aprecié la fatiga de la que se habla, y el público supo reconocerlo. La Manfrino no me dijo gran cosa. Buena cantante sin más. Schrott es un animal escénico y un magnífico cantante. Su breve intervención como desahuciado fue de lo mejor de la noche. Esperemos que su relación con Valencia vaya a más. Villard es un profesional sin alardes, el coro efectivo y la orquesta a buen nivel, obediente pero sin rutilancias.»

Le dernier jour d’un condamné – Valencia 12-02-2008

(Levante)

«Roberto Alagna estrenó anoche con éxito en el Auditorio del Palau de les Arts Le dernier jour d’un condamné, una ópera en concierto, que dirigió Franck Villard en lo musical, y en la que intervinieron la Orquestra de la Comunitat Valenciana y el Coro Filarmónico de Praga.
Aparte del tenor francés Alagna cantaba la soprano Nathalie Manfrino, el bajo Erwin Schrott y Stefano Antonucci.
Ha sido la primera ópera que se ofrece en concierto en el Auditorio. Y no consiguió ayer llenar el aforo de la sala.
La ópera, basada en una novela de Victor Hugo, tiene un libreto de Roberto y David Alagna, y la música es de este último. Según indicó es una denuncia de la pena de muerte, que aún existe en algunos países.
La música no es nada revolucionaria, está llena de efectos pétricos y representa, paralelamente, la historia de un condenado a muerte en la Francia de tiempos de Victor Hugo, y de una condenada del mundo actual. Las historias discurren en paralelo y, alternadamente, cada uno de los protagonistas va recibiendo las visitas del alcaide de la prisión, del verdugo y del cura, hasta el fatal desenlace.»

Theatre/ Opera Review (LA): Don Giovanni by Mozart at the LA Opera – Dec. 1st 2007

by Robert Machray (Blogcritics Magazine)

«The Los Angeles Opera has brought back its controversial production of Mozart’s masterpiece Don Giovanni. It is the production itself that is controversial – not the singers or the music, but the concept, by Polish theatre and opera director Mariuz Trelinski.

Like most Polish theater the production is rooted in movement, color, and surreal images. I happen to love this kind of concept, though it has its limitations. On the one hand it constantly surprises you with ever-shifting images; on the other it limits the actors’ approach to their characters and the audience’s response to them. Instead of living, breathing villains and protagonists in naturalistic settings, you have characters who are so stylized that you feel alienated from any sort of feeling you might normally have had for the dramatis personae and their situations.

This approach also really puts the focus on the score, as it’s the evening’s only grounding in reality. Once again I loved it. Even Mozart can on occasion bore the average listener, with so much recitative and harpsichord. But because the images were so alive, I was constantly engaged.

The singing was superb. Starring as Don Giovanni was Erwin Schrott, repeating the now famous portrayal that launched his career into super-stardom. He is now considered the definitive Don Giovanni round the globe. His rich baritone voice, sleek sexy figure, basic good looks, and terrific acting are reasons enough to see this production.

Also outstanding was Charles Castronovo as Don Ottavio. His voice was made for Mozart, and his high notes were crystal clear. I also enjoyed Alexanda Deshorties as Donna Anna and Maria Kanyova as the irritating ex-lover Donna Elvira.

I must also mention the choreography, by Emil Wesolwski, another Pole. The scene where Don Giovanni has the Commendatore (Kang-Liang Peng) to dinner, and Don Giovanni’s subsequent descent into Hell, were absolutely riveting.»

“Don Giovanni” seduces with devilish, elegant charm – LA, 27th November 2007

by Madeleine Shaner (Reuters)

«Mozart played dice with his characters in his exalted opera “Don Giovanni,” breaking the rules of theater, morality and custom. The trickster, seducer and rapist never realistically gets his come-uppance because he’s an antihero of such charm and force that he’s irresistible, even to those who have suffered at his hands.

Playing the colorful role is the force of nature himself, Erwin Schrott, who made his L.A. Opera debut in the role in 2003. He’s magnificently devilish, charming and irresistible, so attuned to his reprehensible role that he doesn’t seem like the bad guy at all. Maybe because of its combination of wit, drama, satire, farce, tragedy and some undeniably sublime music, “Don Giovanni” is one of the most comedic, dramatic and entertaining of operas.

Under the direction of Mariusz Trelinski (who directed it here in 2003), it becomes, in perhaps the most suitable way, director’s theater, categorized by the elegant and amusing use of all the elements that go into the makeover of a well-known beauty.

Boris F. Kudlika’s amazing set design, Arkadius’ fantastical, weird and wonderful costumes and Brian Gale’s exquisite lighting all have important roles in the production. It seems all those elements have come out to play. While acknowledging its 17th century origins and huge nod to Expressionism, the Don, as the opera is familiarly referred to, is new again. If the characters have become caricatures, it’s clear that was intentional, and always amusing, though strategic cuts in the second act might avert the lengthy anticlimax.

As Ottavio, Charles Castronovo, a very high tenor, is outstanding in the lovely “Il mio tesoro” as he asks heaven to protect his fiancee, Donna Anna (Alexandra Deshorties), whose father’s death, at the hands of Giovanni, is the tinder that lights the fires of hell under the hellion. Deshorties as the cool, unapproachable beauty has to deal with Mozart’s too-cool arias, unfortunately achieving the pitch but not necessarily the tone of the emotion-driven woman. Kyle Ketelsen, as abused servant/fool Leporello, delivers his role with fine humor. His accounting of his master’s 2,065 conquests, in “Madamina! Il catalogo e questo,” is a highlight of the first act.

Lauren McNeese and James Creswell (as the new bride, Zerlina, and her cuckolded groom, Masetto) cutely represent the economic underclass who are beneath the notice but not the exploitation of the arrogant sexual braggart. McNeese joins Schrott splendidly in the familiar “La ci darem la mano.”

Maria Kanyova is lively as the seduced and abandoned Donna Elvira, who can’t stay away from Giovanni’s fire.

The L.A. Opera Orchestra, under the controlled baton of Hartmut Haenchen, joins the fun onstage but can’t top the extreme visual battery of the overwhelming design, costumes, lighting and inventiveness of the production.»

Una noche apasionada bajo la dirección de Plácido Domingo [concert in Puerto Rico]

by Yaisha Vargas (El Vocero de Puerto Rico)

«Plácido Domingo dirigió en cuerpo y alma a la Orquesta Sinfónica de Puerto Rico, en su primer encuentro, la noche del martes.

Pero la función ‘‘Una noche de amor y pasión’’ significó mucho más para el tenor español, pues compartió el escenario con sus hijos artísticos: la potente soprano rusa Anna Netrebko y el imponente barítono uruguayo Erwin Schrott.

Al igual que lo ha hecho en innumerables ocasiones con su admirable voz, Domingo conquistó batuta en mano al público puertorriqueño.

En su papel de director, el artista de 66 años no restó nunca protagonismo a los intérpretes vocales, por quienes ha profesado una alta estima y a quien ha ayudado en sus luminosas carreras.

Durante el repertorio en el que predominaron varias de las arias y dúos más conocidos del repertorio operístico, Domingo no dejó una articulación inmóvil en las piezas rápidas y su batuta flotó con sutileza en las melodías suaves.

El varias ocasiones estrechó las manos de los músicos, haciendo gestos de agrado por su interpretación.

Netrebko fue la estrella de la noche. Comenzó enamorando al público con su potente y aguda voz en la segunda pieza, ‘‘Quiero vivir’’, de la ópera ‘‘Romeo y Julieta’’ de Charles Gounod. Pero fueron quizás sus gestos atrevidos, además de su expresión intensa, los que la acercaron más al público, que le respondió constantemente con aplausos y bravos.

En una repetición de ‘‘Meine Litten’’, de la opereta ‘‘Giuditta’’ de Franz Lehár, dejó a la audiencia boquiabierta cuando se quitó los zapatos y danzó la pieza rápida con intensa libertad. Su largo traje violeta alzó vuelo. Se sentó en el borde del escenario con las pantorrillas y los pies desnudos, sonriéndole a las primeras filas. Luego se levantó y corrió por el escenario.Al terminar la pieza, el público enloqueció en aplausos.

Schrott, de 35 años, fue muy aplaudido en ‘‘Deh vieni alla finestra’’ y ‘‘Fin ch’han dal vino’’, ambas de ‘‘Don Giovanni’’ de Mozart, y se llevó aplausos efusivos y varias ovaciones tras interpretar ‘‘Abre los ojos’’ de ‘‘Las bodas de Fígaro’’, del mismo autor.

Exteriorizó con maestría la angustia y rabia del personaje por ‘‘la inconsistencia’’ de las mujeres, y lució lo mejor de su voz de bajo barítono en la canción del torero Escamillo ‘‘Votre toast, je peux vous le rendre’’, de la ópera ‘‘Carmen’’ de Georges Bizet.

Ofreció además una sorpresa inesperada al interpretar los tangos ‘‘Nostalgias’’ y ‘‘Esta tarde gris’’, acompañado por un violonchelo, un violín, un acordeón y un piano. Netrebko, aún descalza, se sentó entre el público para verlo y le aplaudió efusivamente.

El par mostró su apasionada química en el escenario con los duetos ‘‘Quanto amore! Ed io spietata’’, de la ópera ‘‘L’elisir d’amore’’ de Gaetano Donizetti y ‘‘Lippen schweigen’’, de la opereta ‘‘La viuda alegre’’ de Franz Lehár. Dejaron a la audiencia queriendo más.

Como sorpresa final, cantaron ‘‘La ci darem la mano’’, de ‘‘Don Giovanni’’, tras la cual el barítono se llevó a la soprano en brazos, dejando atrás una enardecida audiencia en ovación.»

¡Noche de inmortales! [concert in Puerto Rico]

El maestro Plácido Domingo y sus “hijos artísticos”, Anna Netrebko y Erwin Schrott, convirtieron el concierto de anoche en una experiencia memorable para los melómanos que colmaron la Sala de Festivales del CBA Luis A. Ferré.

by Mario Alegre Barrios (El Nuevo Día)

«Hay artistas que trascienden el momento y tan sólo la mención de sus nombres se asocia a la excelencia, a la entrega absoluta y -¿por qué no?- a la inmortalidad.

A esta categoría pertenece sin duda el maestro Plácido Domingo, quien anoche revalidó el entrañable afecto y admiración que le profesa el público puertorriqueño en el marco de la gala Una noche de pasión, celebrada en el Centro de Bellas Artes Luis A. Ferré, en una producción de Guillermo Martínez para CulturArte.

De la misma manera que lo ha hecho en infinidad de ocasiones con su voz, en esta ocasión el artista español conquistó a la audiencia desde el podio de la Orquesta Sinfónica de Puerto Rico, batuta en mano, acompañando a la espectacular soprano Anna Netrebko y al imponente barítono Erwin Schrott, quienes justificaron no solamente las esplendorosas referencias con las que fueron adoquinados sus debuts en la Isla, sino también la altísima estima que el maestro Domingo profesa por sus voces y el cuidado con el que ha abonado sus respectivas y luminosas carreras.

Con un repertorio en el que predominaron varías de las arias y dúos más conocidos -y hermosos- del repertorio operístico, la velada arrancó de modo eminentemente orquestal con la obertura de Las bodas de Fígaro, de Mozart, para dar paso a intervenciones alternadas en solitario de Netrebko y Schrott: “Je veux vivre”, de Romeo et Juliette; “Deh vieni alla finestra… Fin ch’han dal vino”, de Don Giovanni; “Ch’il bel sogno di Doretta”, de La rondine; otro interludio orquestal con la obertura a Nabucco; “Aprite un po’ quegli occhi”, de Las bodas de Fígaro; “Quando m’en vo”, de La Bohéme, y el dueto “Quanto amore! Ed io spietata”, de Elisir d’Amore. Luego del intermedio la oferta incluyó arias de Norma, Macbeth, Risalka, Carmen y La Wally.

Al cierre de esta edición se esperaba que los cantantes ofrecieran algunos encores para reciprocar el entusiasmo con el que el público abrazó la velada.»

A Sensible, Musical ‘Figaro’

by Jay Nordlinger (NY Sun)

«Mozart’s “Marriage of Figaro” has a large cast, but the most important performer of all is the conductor: He’s the one who drives, controls, and shapes the opera. He is the spirit on which the opera depends (if you leave out Mozart and his librettist, Da Ponte). And in the pit of the Metropolitan Opera on Tuesday night was Philippe Jordan.

A young man from Switzerland, the son of the late, eminent conductor Armin Jordan, he has had success all over the world, notably in Salzburg and New York — and notably in Mozart. He acquitted himself well on Tuesday night.

Although the overture wasn’t the best. It was not fully together, and did not shine in its glory. It was rather perfunctory, dutiful — another day, another dollar. And this eternally thrilling piece deserves better.

The orchestra was guilty of sloppiness all evening long, and often this sloppiness was minor, but annoying. For example, the last notes of “Porgi, amor” weren’t together. An air of uncrispness settled on the whole performance.

But Mr. Jordan knows his Mozart, and he led a sensible, musical “Figaro.” He grasps the composer’s contrasts, and his sense of play. Indeed, he seems to share

that sense. His tempos were never extreme, although, in my judgment, the second half of “Dove sono” was harmfully slow.

And he had many laudable moments, did Mr. Jordan. I’ll give you two: The nervous confusion between Susanna and Cherubino — they’re trying to get out of a jam — was just right. This is in Act II. And, later in that act, during a vocal quartet, Mozart takes a memorable look back at the Baroque: at Bach and Handel. This, Mr. Jordan emphasized beautifully. By the way, those who have conducted “The Marriage of Figaro” at the Met include some of the best Mozart conductors in history: Böhm, Krips, Walter … and Mahler.

The Met was reviving its 1998 production by Jonathan Miller, a superb production — Mozartean and Da Pontean. If you see a production like Salzburg’s, which alters and indeed subverts the story, you appreciate Mr. Miller’s all the more.

Portraying Figaro was the Uruguayan bass Erwin Schrott. He is suave and handsome, and so is his singing. His sound has an enviable glow to it. Initially, he had some pitch problems, and, in “Se vuol ballare,” he was far too obvious, blunt: Mozart is subtle but clear. You don’t have to help him out much. Overall, however, Mr. Schrott gave satisfaction.

So did Lisette Oropesa, an American soprano, who portrayed Susanna. She stood in for Isabel Bayrakdarian, who is great with child. Ms. Oropesa has a lovely voice — a voice with some vitality — and she sings naturally. In Act I, her sound did not quite carry, hanging behind. But, in later acts, that sound opened up like a flower. And Ms. Oropesa made an exceptionally smart and savvy Susanna. An experienced and beloved Mozart singer, Hei-Kyung Hong, was the Countess — poised and gracious as always. Some things were more pure than others, but, on balance, the soprano had a good night. Her high notes were wonderfully free. She lost a bit of her sound — sheer volume — at the end of “Dove sono,” but this hardly mattered. The Count was Michele Pertusi, an Italian bass. He was dashing and seigneurial, and, where he needed to be, vocally sensitive. His upper register was a surprise and a delight. Toward the end of the opera, his sound tightened, but he experienced nothing ruinous.

Making her Met debut as Cherubino was Anke Vondung, a German mezzo-soprano. Even when she didn’t sparkle or score, she was competent. Cherubino can be high-testosterone, pantingly male — and Ms. Vondung was more dignified, even subdued. But what she did worked.

A veteran mezzo, Anne Murray, was Marcellina — and she made the absolute most of this role. Ms. Murray sounded and sang great. Also, she acted and looked great. The touch of stringency in her voice was exactly right, for the music and role. It was simply a treat to see this lady on stage.

As Don Bartolo, Maurizio Muraro was rightly and amusingly selfimportant. As Don Basilio, Robin Leggate had a very tough act to follow: This role was recently taken by Michel Sénéchal, a scream, and audience favorite. But Mr. Leggate succeeded on his own terms. And a young soprano, Kathleen Kim, made her Met debut as Barbarina (a traditional and good debut role). She showed the spunk and freshness we want.

A footnote or three, if you will. In its programs, the Met has taken to giving the birthplaces of the singers, rather than their proper hometowns, or nationalities. This can be misleading and unhelpful. For example, Anke Vondung was born in Como, Italy — a fabulous place to be born (or simply to be). But Ms. Vondung is German. Isabel Bayrakdarian was born in Lebanon — interesting to know. But she is Armenian-Canadian.

Quite helpful, however, was the fact that the Met went down to one intermission for “Figaro.” This streamlines the evening — which, at more than three and a half hours, is still long enough. On her way out, one lady was heard to say, “It was enjoyable, but just too long.” Many people have felt that way about Mozart operas, madam, even if they haven’t voiced it.

But I remember the words of Werner Hink, concertmaster of the Vienna Philharmonic Orchestra. In an interview a couple of years ago, he said that he had played “The Marriage of Figaro” over 500 times — and never tired of it, always basked in it. Here we have an example of true Mozart appreciation.»

Even with subs, the Met is Figarollin’

by Clive Barnes (NY Post)

«Beneath Mozart’s form and dazzle lies the complexity of flesh and blood and humanity – never more so than in “Le Nozze di Figaro” (“The Marriage of Figaro”), which returned to the Metropolitan Opera Tuesday night with a couple of surprises.

On short notice, the young soprano Lisette Oropesa replaced a pregnant Isabel Bayrakdarian as Figaro’s bride, Susanna, and the earlier announced substitution of Hei-Kyung Hong for the indisposed Dorothea Roschmann as the Countess lent the performance a certain piquancy.

Oropesa, deliciously pert in her acting and extraordinarily vocally assured, was the winner of the 2005 Met Opera National Council Auditions, but the New Orleans soprano appeared in only a couple of small roles last season.

She looks and sounds like a real find.

Hong made a lovely, creamy-voiced Countess. Though the popular South Korean soprano had sung 23 different roles at the Met since her 1984 debut, this was her first Countess, and the Met hadn’t placed her on the roster at all this season.

That seems to have been a real mistake.

Both newcomer and veteran fitted smoothly into the splendid ensemble cast, led by the rising Uruguayan bass Erwin Schrott. In his first Met “Figaro,” he was bold, funny, sexy and often vocally a touch naughty, incorporating the odd laugh, sneer or snarl into the musical phrase. All in all, he was terrific.

Michele Pertusi provided a handsome solid Count, and we had two interesting Met debuts, Anke Vondung as a sprightly Cherubino, and Kathleen Kim, sweet in the small, telling role of Barbarina.

Jonathan Miller’s happily conventional, yet heartfelt, staging of this bittersweet comedy of love and marriage has become a little blurred in detail over the years, but Peter J. Davison’s shabbily ornate settings are still just right, and Swiss conductor Philippe Jordan proved brisk and stylishly Mozartean.»

A ‘Figaro’ With Youth, Agility and Eros

by Allan Kozinn (NYTimes)

«For a while, the return of Mozart’s “Nozze di Figaro” to the Metropolitan Opera stage promised at least one interesting quirk: Isabel Bayrakdarian was to sing Susanna, Figaro’s bride, though she is very visibly pregnant. A pregnant Susanna being chased by the Count and flirted with by Cherubino would have given the story a different spin.

But it was not to be. Ms. Bayrakdarian withdrew from the production last week, just a few days before the Tuesday opening. The soprano Lisette Oropesa, 24, a winner of the Met’s National Council Auditions in 2005 and currently in the company’s Lindemann Young Artist Development Program, took over the role. Before Tuesday, she had sung microscopic roles in Met productions of “Idomeneo” and “Suor Angelica.”

Ms. Oropesa’s last-minute elevation turns out to be a more interesting story than a pregnant Susanna. She proved a vocally and physically agile Susanna, with an attractively silky, flexible timbre. Her fine comic instincts and cheerfully bright sound put her in command of the stage during much of the first two acts. But she conveyed emotional depth too, most notably in her moving, dark-hued account of “Deh vieni, non tardar” in the final act.

Putting Ms. Oropesa in a cast that already included Erwin Schrott, a youthful Uruguayan bass, as Figaro, was a smart move: this nine-year-old Jonathan Miller production, now stage-directed by Robin Guarino, has worked best when the casts are not only vocally commanding, but young and trim as well. Mr. Schrott is a natural comedian and has a sonorous voice that served him well in a rambunctious “Se vuol ballare” and later, more seriously, in “Aprite un po’ quegl’occhi.”

Anke Vondung made her house debut as a believably boyish, love-struck Cherubino in the mold of Frederica von Stade’s classic portrayal. Her taut, polished “Non so più” could have been a touch more breathless, but it could hardly be said to have lacked passion. And her “Voi che sapete” was a thing of beauty: it was the only explanation necessary for why Ms. Guarino had Hei-Kyung Hong, the Countess, all but ravishing Cherubino in the moments before the Count’s untimely arrival.

Ms. Hong, long the Met’s utility Countess, has made her character warmer and more vulnerable here than in past appearances, and her “Dove sono” was as wrenching, but also as dignified, as it needs to be. Michele Pertusi’s Count was solid and suitably vexed, if less imperious than some.

The company also cast the smaller roles well. Ann Murray as Marcellina, Maurizio Muraro as Don Bartolo and Robin Leggate as Basilio gave more focused performances than those characters often get. Kathleen Kim rendered Barbarina’s music sweetly, and Bernard Fitch and Patrick Carfizzi made brief comic contributions as Don Curzio and Antonio.

Philippe Jordan’s conducting was energetic and stylish, and the orchestra played at its considerable best.»

El burlador y los burlados – Don Giovanni @ROH, 23 de junio 2007

by Jorge Binaghi (Operayre)

«A Francesca Zambello, de su lejana y controvertida Lucia en el Met, y de su gran éxito de Guerra y Paz en la Bastilla , parece haberle quedado una especie de ‘horror vacui’ crónico y la idea de que mientras el público vea mucha gente en la escena va a estar contento.

Esa vistosa Macarena a la que el protagonista le pide ayuda en sus empresas amorosas y que preside todo el exterior del primer acto, la orquesta de señoritas con un ligero sabor a Una Eva y dos Adanes pero menos irónica, que aparece puntualmente en el último cuadro del primer acto y en el del final, los acompañantes de Elvira y de Zerlina y Masetto (cuyo ritual parece ser consumar el acto marital en un lecho de paja rodeado de campesinos tras cantar ‘Giovinette che fate all’amore’), los criados de doña Ana, etc…Seguir es cansador, no sirve al lector, no sirve a nada en realidad. Cuando en el segundo acto del muro exterior pasamos al interior, no sé si es para hacer entender que los nobles decadentes sólo cuidaban la apariencia, hay unos muros pobres y maltratados. Muy espectacular la aparición de la estatua del Comendador, con mucho fuego por todos lados (me temo que el gran aplauso del público al caer don Juan en los infiernos se haya debido en parte a esos efectos más que a la soberbia interpretación de Schrott y Hagen en ese momento, y esa es la primera gran objeción que en el fondo me provoca este ‘espectáculo’: que con el pretexto de las técnicas y del ‘arte total’ y no sé cuántas historias, todo queda en el mismo plano y todo termina siendo banalizado).

Ivor Bolton dirige bien. Y punto. Hay tiempos que no son lo que deberían ser, la obertura parece más larga que de costumbre, el aspecto irónico queda subordinado por la sonoridad omnipresente y omnipotente de los metales. En la misma línea, el acompañamiento de ‘Vedrai carino’ es tan poco sensual y brillante como la interpretación de Sarah Fox, otra soprano que da el tono de lo que nos puede esperar dentro de poco: gran corrección y punto: timbre anónimo, italiano más o menos bueno, pulcritud aséptica..y bastante aburrimiento, al menos para mí (salió mejor ‘Vedrai carino’). La presencia de Murray en don Octavio no ayudó: es otro buen elemento,pero que debe resolver algunos problemas de fiato y de legato en un papel que, por suerte, le pide muy poco como actor, pero ya en ‘Dalla sua pace’ hubo algún problema que se agravó, naturalmente, en ‘Il mio tesoro’.

Hagen estuvo muy bien al final, pero menos al principio. No sé, ya que el Comendador es parte tan importante como breve, si eso quiere decir algo más que el hecho normal de que la voz esté más frío al principio de una representación. Rose fue un Masetto que hizo buena pareja con su Zerlina, aunque quiso demostrar que tenía voz (la tiene; aquí no se trata, principalmente, de eso). Martínez fue una Elvira que deja perplejos: por momentos parecía una mezzo, la voz totalmente engolada, poco agudo, poca agilidad; en el segundo acto mejoró por suerte y sobre todo en el aria (los aplausos parecían indicar que uno se encontraba en presencia de Schwarzkopf, pero no es en absoluto así). Ketelsen es simpático y un buen ‘Leporello’ en lo vocal y escénico: hace todo lo que se sabe que va a hacer, y lo hace bien, sin la menor sorpresa, y con una voz muy baritonal (la más baritonal que he escuchado en la parte, y no sé si es exactamente lo que conviene).

La diva del momento, esa que aparece en los programas del teatro anunciando no me acuerdo qué producto de lujo, cantó tras haber cancelado alguna función. Conozco y valoro a Netrebko desde que estaba en las giras del Mariinski y la recuerdo cuando mostraba una voz pura y transparente y un canto ejemplar, y en el Met nadie le hacía especial caso. Ahora constato lo que los discos y demás soportes me indicaban: la voz se ha agrandado, pero ha perdido el timbre cristalino y flexibilidad, y sobre todo ha desarrollado un centro poderoso y un grave excesivo. Eso habría hecho esperar un gran ‘Or sai chi l’onore’, pero no fue así. Con un recitativo lentísimo que desarticuló todo el drama, con agudos calantes al principio y al fina del mismo y del aria, y un fiato más bien corto, hubo que esperar al trío de las máscaras y al aria final (donde exhibió sus mejores cualidades, entre las que no se encuentra el trino, y el pianísimo en agudo del recitativo suena metálico) para intentar comprender en qué reside el fenómeno. Por supuesto es muy bonita, joven y buena actriz y muy simpática.

Schrott se ha prácticamente apropiado del protagonista en Europa y va camino de hacerlo en Estados Unidos. La voz está cada vez más bella y potente (la escena con el Comendador y en el cementerio –convertido en especie de iglesia por Zambello, con muchos figurantes- lo ponen de relieve), dice los recitativos menos hablados –como era antes su tendencia- exhibe en la serenata y en otros momentos del segundo acto medias voces seductoras y trata de seguir buscando nuevos matices en el personaje. Algo extraordinario y que merece el aplauso, pero con una salvaguardia: no extralimitarse. Y eso es lo que creo que pasó en buena parte de los recitativos por exceso de silencios ‘intencionales’, por una constante búsqueda de complicidad con el público –que estaba encantado- y una ruptura de la realidad escénica (se subió a un palco para declamar ‘le donne poi che calcolar non sanno’, lo interrumpió ante las carcajadas del respetable, y lo retomó) a base de algunos gestos extraños que hacen aparecer al noble como un jovencito que va hacia un lado u otro dejándose llevar y casi en compinche de su servidor. Pero don Giovanni es un noble de rancio abolengo y no le sientan gruñidos y rugidos. El que burla es él; los burlados son los otros (y en esta puesta, en la que aparece casi desnudo en el Infierno con una joven en brazos más, pese a la moraleja). Y así, en ‘Là ci darem la mano’, que sigue siendo el fragmento que más se le resiste –creo que por exceso de vitalidad- no logró hacer los pianísimos (la seducción de un noble) que menos de una hora después haría tan bien en el otro intento frustrado de seducción. Nuestro querido vecino de la otra orilla es lo que se suele llamar un ‘animal de teatro’ y es difícil que haga dos funciones iguales. Esta vez me pareció, en conjunto, más desequilibrado el resultado que otras, lo que no deja de ser paradójico si se piensa que vocalmente quizás haya sido de las mejores (la ‘Serenata’ fue la mejor que le recuerdo) y que en dos años y pico lo he visto en cinco puestas diferentes (sin contar su ‘Leporello’ en Viena, que es otro papel que debería interpretar más a menudo). Pero, si bien se mira, a excepción de él y de algún momento de Netrebko, no era esta una función como para echar las campanas al vuelo.»

A Blazing Don Giovanni at Covent Garden – 25-06-2007

by Matthew Westphal and Matt Blank (PlaybillArts)

«Writing from London in The New York Times last week, chief music critic Anthony Tommasini observed that the Royal Opera’s current run of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, in a “grippingly spare and psychologically probing 2002 staging by the director Francesca Zambello,” is “especially suited to big-screen close-ups thanks to an exceptionally attractive and involving cast.”

Heading that cast, and eliciting raves (of more than one sort) from audiences and critics alike, is Uruguayan bass Erwin Schrott, “who gives,” according to Tim Ashley in The Guardian, “what is probably the most completely realized performance of the title role you are ever likely to see.”

Tommasini described him as “riveting [and] … seductively handsome … [with] a strong, dusky voice and chiseled physique. Exuding charisma, he galvanized the audience with his unabashedly narcissistic portrayal.”

As it happens, Schrott played Leporello in this very production (opposite Gerald Finley as Giovanni) for his Covent Garden debut in 2003. This time around, his Leporello is bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen — “almost, but not quite, Schrott’s Doppelgänger,” wrote Ashley, “eye[ing] both his master’s body and conquests with embittered envy.”

The biggest name in the cast is Anna Netrebko as Donna Anna, a role she played opposite Schrott in the Met’s 2006 tour of Japan. She missed the first two performances due to a throat infection; filling in, to considerable acclaim, was Marina Poplavskaya, one of the emerging stars of the ROH’s Jette Parker Young Artists Program. Netrebko is now back onstage, scheduled for three of the remaining four performances, with Poplavskaya taking closing night.

Soprano Ana María Martínez “gave a vocally agile and emotionally fraught portrayal of Donna Elvira” (Tommasini). Tenor Michael Schade’s Don Ottavio was “a rationalist prig down to his fingertips … hopelessly oblivious to the Don’s impact on everything around him” (Ashley). Soprano Sarah Fox and bass Matthew Rose also attracted praise as Zerina and Masetto. Robert Murray is alternating as Ottavio in some performances, while basses Robert Lloyd and Reinhard Hagen are sharing the role of the Commendatore.

Conducting the Orchestra and Chorus of the Royal Opera House is Ivor Bolton; for the final two dates, David Syrus takes over the baton.»

Un Don Giovanni chiamato desiderio – ROH, 17-06-2007

by Ilaria Bellini (Teatro.org)

«L’allestimento in scena al Covent Garden fu creato nel 2002 da Francesca Zambello, ora ripreso da Duncan Macfarland, è uno spettacolo di forte impatto visivo, molto curato dal punto di vista estetico, ma senza pretese concettuali, che prende le distanze da ogni speculazione filsofico-metafisica intorno al mito di Don Giovanni per farne solo un irresistibile e narcisistico seduttore. Mancando un’idea registica forte, il successo della produzione sta nelle doti attoriali e nella personale inventiva dei protagonisti, che “si fanno regia”.

La scena di Maria Björnson è costituita da un parallelepipedo curvo semovente dalla parete grigliata, effetto vetro-cemento, che lascia trasparire nuvole di fumo o ecclesiastico incenso, su cui troneggia una statua di Madonna. Sulla parete sono disseminate croci, ulteriore monito religioso e prefigurazione della morte e che divengono, in modo dissacrante, funzionali al movimento scenico, in quanto Don Giovanni vi si arrampica per fuggire o sedurre. La parte superiore si apre per creare uno squarcio visivo, uno spaccato in cui vengono inquadrate le scene clou: la seduzione di Donna Anna in camicia da notte, Donna Anna da sola in preda al tormento e da cui si intravede, senza comprenderne la forma, un’inquietante scultura metallica ondeggiante, la statua del commendatore che sarà visibile solo alla fine, una grande mano con un indice –revolver puntato, il giudizio finale. La parete ruota e sul lato concavo appare il trompe l’oeil di una sontuosa e coloratissima sala da feste, che nella stretta del finale del primo atto si piegherà parzialmente su se stessa per “stringere” simbolicamente Don Giovanni. Nella scena del banchetto Don Giovanni si aggira a torso nudo, trasudando lussuria e versandosi il vino sul petto fra fumi licenziosi e rossi cubi, da cui poi usciranno il Commendatore e gigantesche fiammate pirotecniche, un inferno reale, suggestivo e crepitante. Scende un bianco velo e in una luce abbacinante tutti, vestiti di bianco, intonano giudiziosamente il finale.

Ma l’opera non finisce qui.. all’interno di un cubo rosso si vede, ed è solo un flash, Don Giovanni nudo che ghermisce una fanciulla: è questo il vero finale, non la falsa morale del sestetto, Don Giovanni vive! Seduttore anche all’inferno!

Erwin Schrott è uno specialista del ruolo e, dopo il Don Giovanni violento di Genova, quello solo e senza cuore di Napoli, quello settecentesco libertino di Valencia, ha offerto una nuova e riuscita variazione sul tema. Qui è il dandy lascivo con sprazzi di aristocratica stizza, inizialmente elegante e raffinato, very british, poi sempre più sensuale, lussurioso, febbrile, maledetto, che affronta la morte per sfida con un sorriso sulle labbra. La voce è splendida: brunita, vellutata, profonda, così potente da sovrastare il fragore dell’inferno, da far esplodere tutta l’ energia vitale e la violenza repressa di “Fin ch’han del vino “ cantata dentro un’angusta scala a chiocciola. Si avverte una maturità raggiunta nei recitativi, nelle mezzevoci, nei passaggi dai pianissimi al forte, eseguiti alla perfezione e con grande disinvoltura: tutto ciò contribuisce a creare un personaggio che si insinua con tutti i mezzi, voce, ironia, naturalezza e da cui tutti vorremmo essere sedotti.. Schrott gioca con le parole, allunga le consonanti, il buongiorrrrno ai contadini suona irriverente, “ ti voglio ssss …sposare “ dice a Zerlina .. trepidazione o sibilo di serpente? Ma Schrott se lo può permettere in quanto domina il ruolo, la voce, i tempi teatrali. Un Don Giovanni atletico e vitale, che canta la “statica” serenata in continuo movimento, arrampicandosi sul balcone, saltando giù, negando ogni introspezione e con un tocco di cinismo: di serenate ne canta a migliaia..

Donna Anna è l’unico personaggio predeterminato ad affrontare ad armi pari Don Giovanni e in questo caso Anna Netrebko è l’unica a reggere il confronto/scontro con Don Giovanni/Schrott. La voce è un po’ nasale, ma ci si lascia sedurre e si comprende il suo potere mediatico: finalmente una Donna Anna da sognare, davvero bellissima, dal nobile portamento, con un collo da cigno lievemente reclinato fra seduzione e contrizione, le mani bianche e affusolate che stringono un rosario e che si stagliano sul vestito nero, mani disperate che cercano di trattenere un Don Giovanni in fuga, mani passate sul proprio viso per assaporare l’odore lasciato da Don Giovanni, capaci di passare in modo naturale e repentino dalla autoerotica carezza alla preghiera. Una Donna Anna innamorata. La Netrebko sopperisce alla mancanza di colori con intenso fraseggio, passaggi ben risolti e acuti ineccepibili. E se “ Or sai chi l’onore”, se pur ben eseguito, è lontano da vertici interpretativi, in “ Ah crudele“ la voce acquisisce pathos e intensità di accenti e la strepitosa recitazione, in un lento scivolare a terra appoggiata alla parete, con la grazia di una ballerina o di un fiore, traduce tutti gli affetti ed emozioni espressi dal canto.

Ana Maria Martìnez ha dato un’interpretazione variegata di Donna Elvira, coniugando sense of humour e intensità drammatica, tratteggiando con intelligenza l’evoluzione del personaggio. Sempre più struggente, scarmigliata e disillusa, si aggrappa a una croce intonando “Mi tradì quell’alma ingrata” con grande intensità, privilegiando l’umano rimpianto alla furia vendicatrice. La voce è chiara e ben controllata e i passaggi nel settore acuto risolti con facilità.
Kyle Ketelsen/Leporello è vocalmente cresciuto, la voce è corposa, sicura e ben sostenuta, la dizione è migliorata. Senza grandi guizzi, offre un‘interpretazione divertente, anche se un po’ schematica e prevedibile, risentendo dell’inevitabile confronto con un padrone che non lascia troppo spazio.
Inconsistente, sia a livello vocale che interpretativo, la Zerlina di Sarah Fox, priva di sfumature, di abbandono e della sorridente sensualità di cui la parte è pervasa.
Mathew Rose, robusto di voce e di stazza, è un Masetto rustico, ma riuscito e credibilissimo.
Michael Schade è Don Ottavio, l’amico di famiglia impossibile da amare. Con voce chiara e adatta alla parte (anche se ha perso un po’ di smalto) ha eseguito con gusto e fluidità entrambe le arie.
Il commendatore di Reinhard Hagen è di efficace presenza scenica e con voce adeguatamente profonda e autorevole.

Ivor Bolton ha diretto con stile l’ottima orchestra della Royal Opera House, dando una lettura corretta, ma un po’ generica. I momenti migliori sono stati nell’ouverture dai suoni morbidi e vellutati, a cui il direttore ha conferito belle tinte notturne. Di buon livello la prestazione del Royal Opera Chorus, preparato da Renato Balsadonna.

Grandi applausi per tutti e standing ovation per Erwin Schrott, per la voce, il carisma e – concedetemi – per la bellezza.»

Hey, Giovanni, put a shirt on. You’ll catch cold.

by Anthony Tommasini (New York Times)

«The Royal Opera House in Covent Garden recently broadcast its production of Mozart’s “Don Giovanni” on outdoor screens around this city, part of the BP Summer Big Screens initiative. The revival of this grippingly spare and psychologically probing 2002 staging by the director Francesca Zambello, shown on Friday evening, was especially suited to big-screen close-ups thanks to an exceptionally attractive and involving cast.

I knew what to expect from the soprano Anna Netrebko’s lushly sung, emotionally vulnerable and glamorous Donna Anna. The surprise was the riveting Giovanni: the seductively handsome young Uruguayan baritone Erwin Schrott, who boasts a strong, dusky voice and chiseled physique. Exuding charisma, he galvanized the audience with his unabashedly narcissistic portrayal. Advance hype, likening him to a young operatic Marlon Brando, made me wary. Vocally, though a fine singer, Mr. Schrott is not the next Sherrill Milnes. But he is certainly a stage animal. Opera houses everywhere will soon be clamoring for him, though he had better pick his roles carefully.

He slipped into the Metropolitan Opera’s roster with a low-profile debut in 2000, singing Colline in “La Bohème.” From all reports his Don Giovanni last summer during the Met’s tour of Japan (with Ms. Netrebko as Donna Anna) was a big success.

It is hard to separate the impact of Mr. Schrott’s portrayal from the context of the production here, with set and costume designs by Maria Bjornson, who died in 2002. The stage is dominated by a large, grim-looking curved wall that on one side resembles a timeless Spanish sepulcher of blackish-blue bricks, with a statue of the Virgin Mary perched near the top overlooking the action. The wall rotates to reveal the painted courtly interiors of Giovanni’s palace and other images.

In the first scene the upper wall parts to reveal Mr. Schrott’s Giovanni, dressed as a masked Spanish pirate, his red vest exposing his muscled chest. His arms entrap Ms. Netrebko’s struggling Donna Anna, though with every quiver her weakness for the seducer is palpable, until she allows herself to be kissed passionately. The production suggests that it takes the death of her father, the Commendatore (Reinhard Hagen), in a duel with Giovanni to summon a daughter’s guilt and set Donna Anna on a path, however ambiguous, to punishing the offender.

Ms. Netrebko had missed the first two performances due to illness, and her voice sounded a little hard-pressed and unsteady. But singing with melting poignancy and gleaming power, she was an anguished and riveting Donna Anna.

The bright-voiced soprano Ana María Martínez gave a vocally agile and emotionally fraught portrayal of Donna Elvira, unhinged in her determination to find Giovanni, who had abandoned her, and shame him into loving her. She first appears as a pathetically comic pursuer, riding in a cagelike cart carried by four male servants, a rifle slung on her back, a telescope in her hands.

The appealing and hardy-voiced bass-baritone Kyle Ketelsen was an endearing Leporello, though he conveyed that character’s seething class resentments against his boss. The veteran tenor Michael Schade’s Don Ottavio was a well-meaning stuffed shirt.

Though Sarah Fox, a young soprano, had shaky vocal moments as Zerlina, she projected the country gal’s perky sweetness. By the end of this disturbing day Zerlina has learned to appreciate her rustic, barrel-chested, good-hearted Masetto, the sturdy bass Matthew Rose. Ivor Bolton conducted a stylish, supple and tellingly paced performance.

In the final scene Mr. Schrott’s Giovanni showed up for his dinner shirtless, dripping with perspiration and looking crazed, as if he was anticipating his coming demise. He descended to the hellish underworld amid pillars of fire all around him, an image I’ll take home with me from London.»

Don Giovanni – ROH, 13-06-2007

by Tim Ashley (The Guardian)

«The programme for the Royal Opera’s latest revival of Don Giovanni contains a photo of the young Marlon Brando as Stanley Kowalski in Tennessee Williams’s A Streetcar Named Desire. Its inclusion tacitly underscores the point that the opera world now has a Brando of its own in the form of Uruguayan bass Erwin Schrott, who gives what is probably the most completely realised performance of the title role you are ever likely to see. The final image of Francesca Zambello’s production hints, albeit inauthentically, that the Don’s iconic sexuality has the power to subvert even hell itself, and for once, we are forced to acknowledge the ironic truth of her vision.

Prowling the stage like some feral, sensual animal, and singing with phenomenal grace, Schrott’s Don is a self-assured, guiltless immoralist who sweeps through the opera like some uncontrollable force of nature, instigating conflicts between desire, morality and reason in everyone he encounters. Kyle Ketelsen’s Leporello – almost, but not quite, Schrott’s doppelganger – eyes both his master’s body and conquests with embittered envy. Sarah Fox’s Zerlina initially can’t wait to get him into bed, but is also the first to understand the potential for catastrophe that his sexuality represents. Elvira (Ana Maria Martinez) is clearly sliding towards derangement, while Anna (Marina Poplavskaya, replacing the indisposed Anna Netrebko) retreats, gradually and majestically, into emotional isolation. Only Michael Schade’s Ottavio – a rationalist prig down to his fingertips – remains hopelessly oblivious to the Don’s impact on everything around him. Crucially, one understands why Anna can never return to him, even though her encounter with the Don has entirely destroyed her universe.

Not all of it works. Zambello’s hi-tech hellfire pyrotechnics are still noisily intrusive, and her relentless deployment of images of Catholic guilt and folksy superstition – to delineate the moral worlds of aristocracy and peasantry, respectively – is excessive. Away from Schrott, there are also musical inequalities. Schade is past his best and Fox sounds tentative. Martinez, on the other hand, manages to make Zambello’s eccentric take on Elvira entirely convincing, while Poplavskaya, who has done nothing finer, immaculately suggests the trauma behind Anna’s hauteur. Ivor Bolton’s conducting is gracious and fiery, if occasionally imprecise when it comes to ensemble. It is ultimately Schrott’s night, though. Go and see him in it – you won’t ever forget him if you do.»

Don Giovanni – ROH, 13th June 2007

by Hilary Finch (TimesOnline)

«It hasn’t been seen at the Royal Opera for four years, but Francesca Zambello’s stunningly theatrical production of Mozart’s Don Giovanni is back, and the flames of Hell are as hot as ever. They will certainly be scorching their way through the live big-screen relay in the Covent Garden piazza tonight and flickering across the skyline as the live public screenings take place from Belfast to Birmingham and Bradford.

Duncan Macfarland, directing this second revival, was to have had the starry soprano Anna Netrebko as his Donna Anna. But she has fallen ill and Marina Poplavskaya, the rising young Russian soprano, suddenly finds herself singing the role earlier and for longer than she had expected. Of all Don Giovanni’s 2,065 victims, Donna Anna is the most enigmatic. Just how far does the Don go with her? Was his murder of her father solely responsible for the extraordinary trauma of her music and the eternal procrastination of her marriage?

The long, long hair of Anna and Elvira; the totemic symbols of female subjugation (spinning wheel, cradle, kettle) held high in the wedding scene; the fact that Zerlina turns the tables on Don Giovanni and invites him to her marriage bed: all of these indicate that this production has Things to Say. But Poplavskaya has thought the role through very much for herself. And although, on the first night, there were moments when her voice was not the totally faithful servant of all she wanted to do, this is an entirely thrilling, even blood-chilling, performance.

After the murder of the Commendatore (Reinhard Hagen), her tresses are bound up. And the stillness of her presence, fused with the exquisitely blended tones and half-tones in her soprano, makes her seem to inhabit another reality. As she recreates the horrors of that dreadful night, there’s a weight of agonised grief in every word.

No other performance carries this much presence, though it’s good to have such an emotionally and vocally substantial Don Ottavio in Michael Schade. As Donna Elvira, Ana MarÍa MartÍnez comes fully armed with pistol and musket – and her soprano gleams at the music’s knife-edge. She’s a splendid foil for Donna Anna, and for Sarah Fox’s feisty and tender Zerlina.

And Don Giovanni himself? Well, you will find it difficult to forget the sinuous virility of Erwin Schrott, the Uruguayan bass. There is deliciously liquid melody within his sensuous singing. Not too much brain at work: he’s raw animal energy, and quite the most louche dissolute. His Leporello, Kyle Ketelsen, offers a witty double act. Only Ivor Bolton, conducting incisively if unyieldingly, seems a little out of it, at times confronted by a maelstrom just outside his control.»

Don Giovanni – ROH, 11-06-2007

by George Hall (The Stage)

«Neither Maria Bjornson’s designs nor much of Francesca Zambello’s production set the pulses racing, but as spruced up by revival director Duncan Macfarland this Don Giovanni packs one helluva punch, much of it provided by Uruguayan bass Erwin Schrott in the title role.

Film star looks and a body to match don’t do him any harm at all in this role. But his hedonistic relish as opera’s leading sexual obsessive, combined with the imagination and colour of his singing, make him its outstanding exponent today.

He’s surrounded by a strong cast. Kyle Ketelsen seconds him admirably as a lowlife Leporello and their duo-scenes are impeccable.

Marina Poplavskaya stands in early as Donna Anna due to Anna Netrebko’s illness. Much of her singing is superb, though there’s the odd tentative moment. She’s well partnered by Michael Schade’s finely vocalised Don Ottavio, and if his character remains a stick that’s presumably intended.

Ana Maria Martinez returns to Donna Elvira, and delivers the role with more aplomb than before. The peasant couple – Sarah Fox’s Zerlina and Matthew Rose’s Masetto – are excellent, with Rose in particular making his mark. Reinhard Hagen’s Commendatore sounds a little out of sorts.

In one of his infrequent Royal Opera appearances, conductor Ivor Bolton balances the score immaculately though it could do with a little more impetus. But the show will be remembered for Schrott’s unbeatable Don. He’s not to be missed.»

The charmer and the psychopath – Don Giovanni (London, ROH, 11-06-2007)

by Rupert Christiansen (Telegraph)

«Erwin Schrott is the most sardonic, seductive, witty and mercurial Don Giovanni I have ever seen.

This hugely gifted Uruguayan bass oozes sex appeal, but he doesn’t just preen his good looks and firm pecs – this is a subtle and thoughtful characterisation of an insouciantly self-centred aristocrat, sung with clarity and sensitivity.

His comic timing was immaculate, the champagne aria fizzed, the serenade melted, and he was dragged down to hell with splendid heroic defiance. An enthralling star turn.

The evening’s other big attraction was the over-hyped Russian soprano Anna Netrebko, who cried off sick.

She was replaced as Donna Anna by the Royal Opera’s resident apprentice, Marina Poplavskaya, who gave an intense but wayward and nervous performance – sometimes thrilling, sometimes off-pitch.

Hers is clearly a potentially major talent, but Mozart is not, I think, her bag. I want to hear her sweep through Verdi or Tchaikovsky.

Kyle Ketelsen, a plausible physical double for his master, made a highly sympathetic Leporello, Anna Maria Martinez was a spunky, vibrant Donna Elvira, Michael Schade sang both Ottavio’s arias with great elegance, and for once the oaf Masetto (Matthew Rose, excellent) had the upper hand over his straying Zerlina (Sarah Fox, insipid).

Ivor Bolton, a conductor now much better known in Europe than he is here, returned to Covent Garden after nine years to deliver a half-way authentic reading with plenty of vigour, and Francesca Zambello’s showbizzy production came up looking spruce and lively in Duncan Macfarland’s revival.

One of the better offerings of the Royal Opera’s fluctuating current season.

At the Sage, Gateshead, a leaner, meaner version was directed by a great Don Giovanni of the previous generation, Sir Thomas Allen. Using only the concert platform, simple costuming and some lighting effects, Allen’s lucid, uncluttered staging hit the heart of the matter.

Making a striking debut in the title-role, Christopher Maltman presents a sadistic psychopath of an anti-hero, the polar opposite of Schrott’s charmer. Maltman enunciates the text crisply and sings purposefully. The arias still need a bit of polishing, but all the makings of a distinguished interpretation were in evidence.

He is well supported by Lisa Milne, singing her first Elvira, and an accomplished young cast notable for Kate Valentine’s spirited Anna and Marc Labonnette’s endearing Leporello. Thomas Zehetmair’s taut and forceful conducting of the Northern Sinfonia underpinned a vivid and enjoyable performance which deserved a larger audience.»

Don Giovanni @ Royal Opera House, London

by Simon Thomas (MusicOMH)

«The Royal Opera’s revival of Don Giovanni is a mixed affair, with some fine component parts but a lack of cohesion in the whole.

Conductor Ivor Bolton is a rare visitor to Covent Garden but on this occasion fails to impress. There’s some poor co-ordination between pit and stage and some of the tempi are terribly slow. In particular, “Dalla sua pace” and Don Giovanni’s Serenade are very drawn out, the latter more likely to send the object of the wooer’s attentions to sleep rather than to arouse her.

Individual performances are generally strong though. Erwin Schrott as the Don is every inch the seducer. You can see why women would drop at his feet; he’s virile, handsome and horribly charming. He also sings magnificently, although he tends to throw the recitatives away, missing much of the irony of the part.

Kyle Ketelsen’s Leporello is like a wretched younger brother to his master, giving credibility to his second act impersonation. He finds a certain amount of humour in the role but overall it’s a sombre interpretation.

The big story leading up to this first night was Anna Netrebko’s cancellation due to illness and her replacement by another Russian, Marina Poplavskaya, one of the Jette Parker Young Artists. To be entrusted with the role of Donna Anna (she was already scheduled to sing once and will now also appear on Wednesday for the “Big Screen” performance), she’s clearly held in high regard by the management. The first night audience was certainly impressed by her powerful and expressive soprano and she has a big future in front of her.

The interpretation of Donna Elvira as a gun-slinging harridan is questionable but Ana María Martinez carries it off effectively, with some great coloratura and lovely lower register. Michael Schade brings presence to the often overlooked tenor role, the long-suffering Don Ottavio. His two big arias left something to be desired but his duet with Poplavskaya in the final front-of-curtain scene was as good as any singing all evening.

Francesca Zambello’s production has its strengths. There is a sense from the very beginning that the opera is about the unravelling of Don Giovanni’s life. Abuse comes across strongly as a theme. When Donna Anna unburdens herself to Ottavio about Giovanni’s rape of her, it rings true as something that all too often goes “unconfessed” even today. Masetto (a strong performance from Matthew Rose) is as abusive in his oafish way towards Zerlina as Don Giovanni is in his more elegant and aristocratic manner.

Unfortunately, many of the weaknesses also lie in the direction and in Maria Björnson’s designs which are ugly and uninteresting. The Don’s descent into hell is excitingly staged but much else is dull and indicative of a team lacking in inspiration.

This isn’t a great Don Giovanni and I suspect most people will be going to see one or other of the performers – Netrebko when she’s back or Erwin Schrott in particular. Those who catch Poplavskaya will be seeing a star in the making.

The performance on Wednesday 13 June will be broadcast live on giant screens in the Covent Garden piazza plus locations in other cities around the UK.»

Sexy Don is such a slow mover – Don Giovanni (London, ROH, 11-06-2007)

by Fiona Maddocks (thisislondon.co.uk)

«Women beware women. The glamorous Russian soprano, Anna Netrebko, now a top of the world diva league, pulled out of the Royal Opera’s revival of Don Giovanni because of a throat infection.

Her replacement was another Russian, Marina Poplavaskaya, who has all the signs of being an equally huge star.

Tall, blonde and slender with hair down to her waist, this Jette Parker Young Artist has a compelling stage presence and a rich, muscular voice which she projects with no sign of effort.

Only in highest notes was there occasionally a slight silvering of tone.

This was Poplavaskaya’s big break and she dazzled.

She was already due to sing Donna Anna in one performance of Francesca Zambello’s austere staging, with sombre Spanish designs by the late Maria Bjornson and conducted by Ivor Bolton.

Now she will also appear in tomorrow’s BP Big Screen Piazza relay.

Well established in Russia but hardly known here, she has major Tchaikovksy and Verdi roles scheduled with the ROH next season. Take note of the name.

This was a formidable cast all round, with a dream Don Giovanni in Erwin Schrott, the Uruguayan bass who sang Leporello in this production in 2003.

He can do anything with his voice and body -which we saw quite a lot of, and very nice, too -and was ideally paired with Kyle Ketelsen, who himself has sung the title role.

Fittingly, Zambello has master and sidekick looking like twins and even the footmen are Giovanni clones.

Is this a comment on the awful interchangeability of men? Who can say.

Ana Maria Martinez’s desperate Elvira, the wronged woman with all the best music, showed blazing tenacity.

As the young newly weds Masetto and Zerlina, Matthew Rose and Sarah Fox were fiery and argumentative, adding flesh to these sometimes twodimensional roles.

But for all the fine singing, something was awry between stage, pit and podium.

From the start, ensemble was ragged. Recitative was bizarrely stop-start and mannered.

Slow arias, and this opera has a few, seemed all too elastic in length, especially Don Ottavio’s Dalla Sua Pace, which was excruciatingly slow, not saved even by Michael Schade’s elegant delivery.

At times I feared I might expire before the rake himself.

The bright optimism of the D major finale came not a moment too soon.

With a massive injection of speed, all will be well.»

Le nozze di Figaro (Zurich) – Un ultimo giro di giostra

by Ilaria Bellini (Teatro.org)

«Il nuovo allestimento delle Nozze di Figaro di Sven –Eric Bechtolf, più che Beaumarchais, riprende il teatro da boulevard, ed è uno spettacolo frizzante e veloce, in cui battute e situazioni si succedono in modo vorticoso. E si ride davvero. E’ una commedia senza malinconia, per evocare, se non la felicità, una delle ultime giornate di gioco prima del buio della catastrofe della storia tedesca recente. Infatti la vicenda è ambientata negli anni Trenta (la datazione e’ riconoscibile negli elementi art déco, nei costumi, ma anche nella recitazione brillante, citazione delle commedie tedesche dell’epoca). Una grande sala luminosa su cui si affacciano delle porte funzionali al continuo andirivieni e una pedana-teatrino sul fondo costituiscono il semplice ed elegante impianto scenico, che con pochi tocchi ricrea gli ambienti del palazzo: scatoloni da trasloco sono il mobilio della giovanecoppia , sofà e vestiti l’alcova della contessa, una platea di poltroncine bianche per il teatrino di corte e la sala delle feste. Nel quarto atto la scena è all’aria aperta, ma priva della componente naturalistica e notturna che permea la partitura mozartiana. Il boschetto della possibile felicità è una giostra d’altri tempi, dai cavallini disposti in circolo intorno a un letto di foglie. Il luogo della promessa amorosa diventa quello della regressione infantile, eden nella memoria, in cui i personaggi giocano a nascondersi, prima dell’ultimo giro di giostra.

In una interpretazione esilarante, ma non esente da forzature, il Conte nobile e orgoglioso diventa un illusionista dilettante e vanesio che si vorrebbe demiurgo e che, alter ego del regista/attore Bechtolf, assume il ruolo di protagonista. E’ il “Magico Conte“, come il gioco da tavolo per bambini che rigira fra le mani con la stessa infantile concupiscenza con cui desidera tutte le donne.

Nessuna lotta di classe: Figaro non combatte una gerarchia, vuole solo affermare il proprio piacere personale, un letto più comodo, in cui accoccolarsi per godere i piaceri della vita. Figaro non è il deus ex machina che regge l’intrigo, ma il ragazzo semplice e un po’ sbruffone in balìa degli eventi. La conflittualità fra Figaro e il Conte si riduce a maschile ripicca e trova la sua apoteosi nella scena finale in cui Figaro, scimmiottando il conte seduttore, replica, in segno di vittoria, un gioco di prestigio. L’aria “non più andrai farfallone amoroso “ non è indirizzata a Cherubino, ma é cantata per il Conte, apparentemente per compiacerlo, in realtà per schernirlo, e il canto si fa azione quando Figaro spinge il bendato Cherubino a mimare un passo di scherma per dare una sciabolata al Conte.

La finzione e il travestimento presenti nell’opera sono ulteriormente moltiplicati: e’ un continuo spogliarsi, travestirsi, trasformarsi, in una girandola giocosa ricca di allusioni sensuali. Susanna spoglia Cherubino e per gioco ne indossa le vesti, per poi doversi rispogliare e rivestire in tutta fretta all’arrivo del Conte (scena peraltro pienamente supportata e giustificata dalla concitazione musicale). La Contessa è personaggio vario e consapevole, donna di mondo che conosce malizie e virtù, che si presta a fare da “spalla” alle gags del marito, di cui è la prima a sorridere con indulgenza e affetto. Suggestivo l’inizio del secondo atto, quando appare ancora addormentata sdraiata sul pavimento in abito da sera accanto a stoviglie in frantumi, come se il sonno fosse sopravvenuto a una lite o a un bicchiere di troppo. Svegliatasi, intona “porgi amore“ accarezzandosi il braccio con un vetro rotto, per ricordare le passate carezze o tagliarsi le vene con un gesto languido che trascolora dalla sensualità alla disperazione.

Il taglio brillante dello spettacolo ha decisamente privilegiato la teatralità e il ritmo narrativo, mettendo in secondo piano la componente lirica e la pura vocalità.

Il Conte di Michael Volle, divertente ed istrionico, subordina il canto alla recitazione. La voce è un po’ ruvida, ma la dizione espressiva e la naturalezza dei parlati ne fanno un personaggio trainante che cattura l’attenzione del pubblico.

Erwin Schrott, se pur indisposto, ha dimostrato ottima padronanza scenica e musicale ed ha restituito il giusto colore alla parte di Figaro, coniugando una bella voce naturale con una linea di canto elegante e controllata. Nell’ultima aria “buia è la notte“ la voce morbida e corposa e l’attenzione alla parola rendono la disillusione intrisa di nostalgia di chi vorrebbe prendere le distanze dal dolore senza riuscirci.

Malin Hartelius, affascinante e credibile Contessa, ha buon fraseggio e canta piuttosto bene, le mancano però la varietà, l’intensità e soprattutto i colori vocali necessari per raggiungere la pienezza emotiva della parte.

Martina Jankova suggerisce le tante sfaccettature di Susanna, spiritosa e volitiva, sensuale e innocente, spontanea e un po’ gelosa .Voce non particolarmente luminosa, ma dall’accento vivace, ha dato prova di buon lirismo vocale nell’aria “deh vieni non tardar”.

Cherubino, banalizzato in pupazzo a molla/bella statuina, non rende i febbrili e inconsapevoli turbamenti dell’eros, Judith Schmidt canta in modo monocorde e il fraseggio non ha sufficiente mobilità e languore.

Di buon livello e caratterizzazione il resto della compagnia. Irène Friedli ha dato una buona interpretazione di Marcellina, divertente ma non caricaturale; vocalmente corretti Carlos Chausson nel ruolo di Bartolo e Martin Zysset nella parte di Basilio, giustamente ridicoli il Don Curzio di Andreas Winkler e Giuseppe Scorsin nella parte di Antonio. Da segnalare l’accattivante Barbarina di Eva Liebau, che oltre alla bella presenza, ha dato mostra di una voce interessante.

L’orchestra dal suono forte e brillante diretta da Franz Welser Möst è efficace nell’evocare la folle giornata e pur nel vortice sonoro riesce ad assecondare le voci. Lamusica scorre fluida e vivace, dà ritmo alle situazioni e trova il giusto respiro teatrale commentando quanto avviene sulla scena. Ma è un commento di superficie, senza traccia della malinconia ineffabile che si nasconde dietro il gioco e il sorriso.

E in queste nozze – commedia la felicità c’è: nei dieci minuti di applausi del pubblico.»

Le nozze di Figaro (Zurich): Ein toller Tag beim Zauberer Almaviva

by Oliver Schneider (Wiener Zeitung)

«Bei Nikolaus Harnoncourt und Claus Guth war “Le nozze di Figaro” letzten Sommer alles andere als eine Komödie. Doch auch das Gegenteil lässt sich mit Fug und Recht beweisen, so gehört und gesehen bei Generalmusikdirektor Franz Welser-Möst und Regisseur Sven-Eric Bechtolf.

Quirlig-frisch, mit gehörigem Tempofluss und innerlich geschlossen tönt es aus dem hochgefahrenen Orchestergraben. Welser-Möst lässt das Orchester luftig und nachvollziehbar musizieren und setzt, wo nötig, markante Impulse. Zumindest bis zur Pause ein purer Genuss. Im dritten und vierten Akt trüben das zuweilen zu dominante Orchester und Koordinationsschwierigkeiten den Eindruck.

Wie schon die Wiener “Arabella” hat Bechtolf die Opera buffa in die erste Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts transferiert. Dies ist nachvollziehbar, weil emanzipierte Frauen in dieser Zeit ihre gewitzte Überlegenheit auch realiter öffentlich beweisen durften. Die Glittenbergs haben ihm dafür einmal mehr schicke, helle Interieurs im Art Déco- und Jugendstil und elegante Kostüme geschaffen. Das Ganze ist hübsch anzusehen, ein gewisser Déjà-vu-Effekt bleibt jedoch nicht aus.

Bei Bechtolf spielt “Figaro” wirklich an einem tollen Tag. Standesunterschiede verschwimmen, menschliche Bindungen und Gefühle werden durcheinander gewirbelt, Bedürfnisse treten unverblümt ans Tageslicht.

Mit sprühendem Witz sowie starken, wenn auch zum Teil überbordenden Bildern und reichlich Slapstick-Einlagen erzählt der Regisseur die Geschehnisse neu. So wird der Graf zum Zauberer, der immer wieder sein Können zum Besten gibt. Wenig damenhaft werden die Gräfin und Susanna gar handgreiflich.

Mitunter passiert fast zuviel auf der Bühne. Bechtolf ist aber auch ein Meister der psychologischen Feinzeichnung, wenn das Spiel im vierten Akt aus den Fugen gerät. Doch der Schlusschor verheißt die positive Auflösung. Hier gibt es die Utopie des menschlichen Glücks noch.

Sängerisch gebührt die Krone Martina Janková, die als gewiefte Susanna Witz und Charme versprüht. Mit ihrem betörenden Timbre lässt sie die Rosenarie zum Höhepunkt des Abends werden. Ihr Figaro, Erwin Schrott, ist ein heißblütiger Latinlover, der vor Selbstbewusstsein nur so strotzt. Stimmlich setzt er ganz auf warmen Wohlklang, lässt es aber an Markigkeit fehlen.

Das ist ganz anders bei Michael Volle, der den Schürzenjäger Almaviva als Alter Ego des Regisseurs präsentiert. Malin Hartelius als resolute Gräfin lässt in ihrer Kavatine im zweiten Akt beseelte Piani nicht vermissen und verströmt auch sonst viel Klangschönheit. Und doch wirkt sie stimmlich eine Spur zu distanziert.

Enttäuschend ist nur der Cherubino von Judith Schmid, der Liebling aller Frauen und von Basilio. Zu erwähnen ist noch Eva Liebaus Barbarina, die sich mit ihrer glockenhellen Stimme für größere Aufgaben empfiehlt.»