Christoyannis, Tassis


Charles Gounod - Faust

Opéra National de Paris, 2011 | Alain Altinoglu, Jean-Louis Martinoty, Roberto Alagna, Paul Gay, Tassis Christoyannis, Alexander Duhamel, Inva Mula, Angélique Noldus, Marie-Ange Todorovitch | Opéra Bastille, Paris – 16th October 2011

When is Gounod’s Faust not Gounod’s Faust? For many people who think they know the opera well, I’m sure that they would find the new 2011 production for the Paris Opera unfamiliar in many respects – but the question is historically a great deal more complicated than that. A great admirer of Goethe’s work, Gounod had been planning an opera on Faust for almost thirty years, but between finally starting work on it in 1855, it receiving its first production at the Théâtre Lyrique in Paris in 1859 in a heavily cut form, and its appearance at the Paris Opera, many subsequent revisions were made to the work.  With additional arias inserted later to suit singers in productions around Europe, with the whole work revised again by Gounod in 1866 to eliminate spoken dialogue and make it a fully-fledged opera, it can be difficult to determine what exactly is the true form of Gounod’s Faust.

Faust has probably been debased even further over the intervening years. A popular favourite, the dramatic representation and any sense of coherence has often come secondary to ensuring that the crowd-pleasing songs, marches and waltzes showcasing the extravagance of the orchestration, the singing and the famous setpieces meet audience expectations. Many operas have scenes of iconic power, but are there any with quite so many in each act as Faust? With its initial meeting between Faust and Mephistopheles, the Fairground waltz and the Ivan the Terrible soldier’s march in Act 2, Marguerite’s Jewel song in Act 3, Valentin’s duel in Act 4 and the Walpurgis Night debauch in Act 5 – to name just a few of the stand-out moments – Gounod’s Faust is one long procession of memorable moments, drama and melodrama, mixed up in meditations on love, romance, nihilism, philosophy and religion. With so much to cover and so many expectations to meet – and with such a history of cuts and revisions – there’s not however much sense of coherency in Faust, and there’s little that bears resemblance to the original work and themes of Goethe.

Faust

How much of the opera is as Gounod intended is difficult then to determine, but it has certainly been molded a great deal by the necessity of meeting the demands and conventions of the French Grand Opera tradition. That’s how it’s traditionally presented, that’s how I am familiar with it, and that’s pretty much the way it was played at the fine Royal Opera House production directed by David McVicar broadcast in HD around the world just a few weeks ago. Surprisingly then, few of the familiar conventions were adhered to in the Opéra National de Paris’ new 2011 production at the Bastille directed by Jean-Louis Martinoty and conducted by Alain Altinoglu (after the departure of Alain Lombard early in the production). If there is some inevitable disappointment that all the old favourites aren’t played out quite as you remember them or would like them, the new Paris Opera production is at least a brave attempt to restore some of the true qualities of the work back to its original form. If you are going to radically rework a familiar opera however, you need to have something else to pique the interest of the audience, and while that is admirably achieved here to a certain degree, some of the decisions are nonetheless questionable and some of the staging is quite curious.

The staging, as is often the case at the Bastille, appears to be aiming to fill the large stage with as much impressive set design, spectacle and colour as possible, rather than being quite so faithful to the demands of the opera. In the case of Faust however, there are certainly plenty of showcase scenes to merit the spectacle, and some of them really have an impact. The main body of the stage – as it was with McVicar’s producton last month – uses the scientist’s study as the basis for the whole opera. Here, the semi-circular raised rows of bookcases are a constant reminder – while there is often not much else to remind you in the opera – of the desire for knowledge, experience and answers that has ultimately led the doctor Faust into a bargain with the demon Mephistopheles, selling his soul for a life of abandon and debauchery that, up until her dramatic sacrifice and salvation, almost also claims the pure and innocent soul of Marguerite.

Great vertical use is made of the stage, with huge crosses and an enormous skeleton descending down to the stage, as well as raising figures and objects, and no small amount of smoky dry ice from “down below”. If some of the choices are curious, not exactly naturalistic and perhaps not quite how we are used to seeing Faust depicted –the aforementioned skeleton and Marguerite’s bed covered in greenery and forming part of the garden scene some of the stranger elements – they all at least fit into the main themes and concepts of the battle between good and evil, science and nature, knowledge and the purposes that it is turned towards.

Faust

Some of this works however and some of it doesn’t. The skeleton forms one of the best effects during the waltz during the fair of Act II, whirling and trailing ribbons over Mephistopheles as he leads the dance beneath. On the other hand, Roberto Alagna’s transformation from old academic to young man isn’t the most inventive. Employing an actor who lip-sync mimes to Alagna’s off-stage singing, it avoids the tricky transformation (clevery done in quick change mode by Vittorio Grigolo in the ROH production) – but Alagna makes enough of an impression when he does appear to make up for this. Valentin’s death also lacks traditional impact, since he has no sword and is struck by Faust with an oblique blow (which indicates of course that it is Mepistopheles behind the action), but the extraordinary manner of him dying standing on his feet is quite striking.

Another reason for the seemingly deliberate lack of traditional impact however is the measured tempo of Alain Altinoglu’s conducting of the Paris Orchestra which avoids all the usual added punchy emphasis, sounding almost like how one would approach Wagner’s German Romanticism more than how we are accustomed to hearing Gounod played. The playing of the orchestra was marvellous and, although one misses all the usual tics, this more thoughtful and lyrical approach did however cast an entirely different perspective on the work and indeed worked marvellously with the romantic and religious elements that dominate it. The opera unfortunately still has many gaps and lapses of dramatic continuity that prevents such an approach from fully coming together, so it wasn’t entirely satisfactory, raising perhaps more questions in the curiosity and unfamiliarity of the staging instead of making it any clearer or coherent, but it was a welcome approach nonetheless.

Even if the dramatic action or the musical interpretation didn’t always play into the hands of the singer looking to make an impression in these great operatic roles, the singing was nonetheless wonderful. Roberto Alagna was in fine shape physically for the role and in good singing voice also. Personally speaking, I don’t find him the most charismatic of performers, but by the same token he’s not show-offy, he does have a beautiful tone to his voice and always delivers a flawless singing performance. You couldn’t ask for more from a Faust. Inva Mula, who I last saw singing wonderfully in the Paris Opera’s revision and restoration of Gounod’s almost forgotten Mireille (on Blu-ray), is in even finer voice here as Marguerite, her French pretty much faultless, her singing glorious, appropriate and in keeping with her character. Paul Gay didn’t always carry the kind of seductive charm of Mephistopheles or sound entirely firm on the lower register, but his performance was warmly received by the audience, as was Tassis Christoyannis – an excellent Valentin, even if he wasn’t given much leeway with the role.

FalstaffGiuseppe Verdi - Falstaff

Glyndebourne, 2009 | Vladimir Jurowski, London Philharmonic Orchestra, Richard Jones, Christopher Purves, Tassis Christoyannis, Dina Kuznetsova, Marie-Nicole Lemieux, Adriana Kučerová, Bülent Bezduz, Jennifer Holloway, Peter Hoare, Paolo Battaglia, Alasdair Elliott | Opus Arte

Richard Jones’ production of Falstaff for Glyndebourne in 2009 finds an appropriate updated setting for Verdi’s final opera (1893) – a delightful comedy based on Shakespeare’s The Merry Wives of Windsor – in the quintessentially old-world ideal of the English countryside village of the immediate post-war years, populated by Bertie Wooster-style cads and scoundrels and mischievous ruddy-faced scamps out of Richmal Crompton’s Just William books. Even the curtain drop has an embroidered-look landscape of Windsor castle to add to the sense of an ideal that may never have ever existed, an ideal that the aging knight John Falstaff mistakenly believes he embodies.

Fat, balding and gone to seed, propping up the bar at the Garter’s Arms, he believes he still incarnates everything that is noble and proud about old England, and mourns the passing of a time when men such as himself commanded respect and deference, (“There’s no more virtue, everything is in decline/ Time to go old John, go on your way/ Walk on until you die/ Then true manhood will have disappeared from this world”), and when the good ladies of the town would be flattered to receive his attentions. Undeterred by the reality of his situation, even by the burden that his servants have become, he sets out to woo two of Windsor’s merry wives, hoping to replenish his dwindling funds. Alas, poor John’s over-inflated idea of his charms makes him a laughing stock of the town.

Richard Jones set designs play perfectly on the image of this impossible ideal, recreating it as it would be in the minds of a modern audience who feel that the essence of Englishness and the nation itself is in decline – the country pub with the cat snoozing on the bar, the English country house with its cabbage garden, the old village street with bobbies on the beat, and a nearby wood for elves, fairies and sprites. The overall concept is sound, the sets impressively storybook larger-than-life, but there are numerous little details in the sets, in the costumes and in the characterisation that fits perfectly with this romanticised ideal.

Vladimir Jurowski, with the London Philharmonic, brings out Verdi’s magnificent score to perfection. This is Verdi on another register completely from his revolutions and melodramas, doing comedy with all the Italian dynamism of Rossini but with a subtlety of characterisation equal to the opera buffa of Mozart. The opera celebrates the underlying innocence, love and beauty that supports the poignant dream of an unachievable ideal, but it also cheekily acknowledges that the world would be a very dull place if it didn’t have characters like John Falstaff to stir up emotions and invigorate it with the spice of life. There are no show-stopping arias in Falstaff, but beautiful melodies and solo pieces that are fully integrated into the fabric of the score as a whole, Verdi’s pitching of mood, characterisation and drama absolutely impeccable and insightful.

Despite there being great scope and undoubtedly a great temptation to play this as straight farce, there is actually a great deal of subtlety in the singing and the performances here, particularly from Christopher Purves in a very convincing fat-suit. There’s no need to overplay when the libretto – derived from Shakespeare of course – and the score are so expressive, and no need to over-emphasise with showy singing, and all of the cast seem to be aware of this, delivering this particular Italian libretto with a proper sense of English reserve – even if the majority of the cast are not English.

The production looks and sounds terrific on this Opus Arte Blu-ray release. The bold sets look marvellous on the brightly-lit stage, but even in the night-time darkness of the final scene, there is excellent detail and colouration in the image. Audio tracks are in PCM Stereo and DTS HD-Master Audio 5.1, and there is good detail and warmth of tone in both mixes. There are no extra features on the disc apart from a standard Cast listing and a narrated Synopsis.