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Medea Triumphant Toronto
Four Seasons Centre for the Performing Arts
05/03/2024 - & May 5*, 9, 11, 15, 17, 2024
Luigi Cherubini: Medea
Sondra Radvanovsky/Chiara Isotton* (Medea), Matthew Polenzani (Giasone), Janai Brugger (Glauce), Alfred Walker (Creon), Zoie Reams (Neris), Charlotte Siegel (First Handmaiden), Alex Hetherington (Second Handmaiden), Alex Halliday (A Captain of the Guard)
Canadian Opera Company Chorus, Sandra Horst (chorus master), Canadian Opera Company Orchestra, Lorenzo Passerini (Conductor)
Sir David McVicar (Stage Director & Set), Doey Lüthi (Costume Designer), Paule Constable (Lighting)
M. Polenzani, C. Isotton (© Michael Cooper)
Premièred in Paris in 1797, Cherubini’s Médée was originally written in French, set to a libretto based on Euripides’ play from Greek Antiquity. At its première, the work was tepidly received and mostly forgotten for well over a century and a half, until Maria Callas single-handedly revived its Italian version as a vehicle for her dramatic talent.
That version, a 1909 translation of a German version (1855) with sung recitatives by Franz Lachner (1803‑1890), is more condensed than the French original, with a reduced presence for roles other than the protagonist’s, rendering it more gruesome, yet more dramatically powerful.
After Callas’ 1950s revival, the forgotten opera subsequently resurfaced in the 1960s and 1970s, helmed by such leading stars as Gwyneth Jones, Magda Olivero, Leyla Gencer, Leonie Rysanek, Cristina Deutekom and Sylvia Sass. These were obvious attempts to claim Callas’s empty throne. Notably, these revivals were of the Italian version used by Callas.
In 2005, Italian soprano Anna Caterina Antonacci, admired as a singing tragedienne in roles such as Rossini’s Ermione, Poppea (L’incoronazione di Poppea) and Cassandre (Les Troyens), revived the opera in Toulouse and Paris in a production by Yannis Kokkos, in which she also sang in Athens’ Epidaurus. Since then, the world has seen additional Médée productions, in both its Italian and French versions. Again, many of today’s leading sopranos sing the opera most identified with Maria Callas aspiring to attain supremacy. The results are predictably mixed.
This production by Sir David McVicar, shared with New York’s Metropolitan Opera, the Greek National Opera and the Lyric Opera of Chicago, is visually appealing. The Golden Fleece, stolen from Colchis (present day Georgia in the Caucus) with the help of that country’s princess and sorceress Medea, features prominently. This reminds the audience that Jason owes his hero’s reputation to Medea and that she betrayed her country and family for him. A mirror above reflected the onstage action and was especially effective during ceremonial scenes such as preparations for Glauce’s wedding and its subsequent banquet. It was less so, and rather distracting, in other scenes, especially the more intense ones involving several characters.
Dramatically, more could have been done with such a powerful play. In McVicar’s production, there was no new insight into the characters of Medea or Jason that could make the audience identify or even sympathize with the heroine. For a modern audience unversed in ancient Greek theatre or mythology, and most certainly not with the French play Médée by Pierre Corneille (1606‑1684), much more is needed to feel empathy for Medea (see Damiano Michieletto’s recent production for La Scala).
The evening began with an announcement that the scheduled Medea, Canadian soprano Sondra Radvanovsky, was indisposed, and that Italian soprano Chiara Isotton would replace her. Though the Toronto public is reserved and well‑behaved, one could feel their disappointment. Luckily, Isotton proved to be a revelation, more than capable of facing the many challenges of the role. An acclaimed star in Europe, gracing its major stages (La Scala, La Fenice, Berlin, Monte‑Carlo and Bologna), Isotton possesses a powerful spinto soprano and is easily able to extend into the soprano drammatico range. Unlike others who venture into this grueling role, Isotton’s voice was neither metallic nor was it plagued with an uncontrolled vibrato.
Dramatically, Isotton was able to reveal the nuanced emotions the role required. She managed to portray the vengeful and irate nature of Medea while showing her more vulnerable aspects, both as a woman in love and a mother. Rarely have I heard a more moving interpretation of Medea’s Act I aria “Dei tuoi figli la madre.” This is a desperate and broken woman imploring a man who’s betrayed her. This vastly contrasted with her bloodcurdling Act III “E che? Io son Medea.”
Since Anna Caterina Antonacci’s interpretation some twenty years ago, no one has come close to the perfect interpretation of Medea – until now. Though endowed with a powerful voice, Isotton knows that underplaying drama is subtle and effective, and in this, she was masterful.
Matthew Polenzani was a convincing Jason, though he would have benefited from more precise stage directions. Vocally, he has a pleasant lyric voice that conjures youth and virility. He managed to convey a certain depth to the two‑dimensional character; he reacted with both tenderness and fear to Medea’s touch in their Act I duet “Son van qui minacce, prieghi.” It’s a pity McVicar didn’t help convey the weak character of Jason. As a reckless youth, Jason dared pursue the most difficult endeavour of stealing the Golden Fleece. Almost entirely thanks to Medea, he achieved the task. Received back home as the hero of his time, Jason wears boots too large for him. His ambition drives him to betray his wife and accomplice in the hope of marrying Glauce, daughter of Creonte, King of Corinth. This is a man who uses women to get what he wants.
American bass-baritone Alfred Walker was an effective Creonte. He managed to seem unsympathetic and unregal, dressed in a military uniform adorned with medals. His Act I aria “Qui tremar devi tu, donna rea” was insufficiently threatening due to his lighter voice. Creonte is usually sung by a basso cantante, not a bass‑baritone. He more than compensated for this with his authoritative acting. Possibly, the choice of a lighter voice was deliberate, to convey his military rather than regal background.
American mezzo Zoie Reams had a rich dark voice, a near contralto, more appropriate in the role of Medea’s nurse and confidant, Neris. Her Act III aria “D’amore il raggio ancora in lei s’è spento” was moving. Given the maternal nature of the bond between her and Medea, it sounded like a soothing yet hopeless lullaby.
The role of Glauce, King Creonte’s daughter, was shortened, compared to that of Dircé in the original French version. Her function is mainly to contrast her virginal, naive nature with Medea’s overpowering one. To be effective in that role, a bright and virtuoso coloratura is required. Alas, that is not how I would have described Janai Brugger’s lyric soprano. Her opening aria, “O amore, vieni a me,” did not impress with agile coloratura. However, she managed to make Glauce a palpable character. This is a timid submissive princess scared of Medea. She is obviously terrified of her magic but she is also scared of her as a woman. This insecure characterisation becomes more understandable when we examine how McVicar has portrayed the court of Corinth.
This is probably the most brilliant aspect of McVicar’s staging: King Creonte is portrayed as a usurper. His courtiers are obviously people of a lower station, playing at being noble and refined. Jason’s Argonauts, portrayed as a band of pirates reminiscent of those in the Pirates of the Caribbean films, are completely at ease in this court. They dance on the banquet table and lewdly cavort with the courtiers. Once the wedding ceremony is celebrated, the “Argonauts” run to the altar to steal relics and valuables. The ceremony is officiated by a terrified Cardinal from what is obviously the legitimate Ancien Régime, uncomfortable in this illegitimate court.
Transporting the epoch from Ancient Greece to Napoleonic France is demonstrated by the faux aristocratic women of the court dressed in Style Empire dresses. This is appropriate, as Cherubini, like Etienne-Nicolas Méhul (1763‑1817) and François-Adrien Boieldieu (1775‑1834), was a composer of the brief French Revolutionary rule. The change was a pretext for dazzling costumes from the Napoleonic period. Is McVicar drawing a parallel between Jason and Napoleon? Both are heroes of their times who achieved unsurpassable tasks. Both had first marriages out of love and second marriages borne of ambition. Napoleon was first married (1804‑1809) to Joséphine de Beauharnais, a widow of minor nobility. Their marriage was annulled so that Napoleon could marry Marie‑Louise of Austria, first child of Francis II, Holy Roman Emperor and Emperor of Austria.
If parallels are to be drawn between Jason and Napoleon, they are quite tenuous, for unlike Jason, Napoleon accomplished his own successes and did not use women to advance them. This would be Anglo‑centric and Francophobic, coming from Sir David McVicar. More importantly, it distracts from the story’s essence: Medea, the absolute heroine of the opera. However, it is possible that McVicar sees Jason as equally important. Was that the reason he chose to end the opera underwhelmingly, with Medea laying on the ground, reflected in the mirror above the stage? In Euripides’ play, Medea, granddaughter of the Sun God Phoebus, flees the crowd in a dragon‑driven chariot of fire, sent by her grandfather. In addition to being faithful to Euripides, this would have been an effective and infinitely more memorable finale.
Ossama el Naggar
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