|
Back
More Bark than Bite Vienna
Staatsoper
03/05/2025 - & March 8*, 11, 14, 2025
Jules Massenet: Werther
Matthew Polenzani (Werther), Clemens Unterreiner (Albert), Kate Lindsey (Charlotte), Florina Ilie (Sophie), Hans Peter Kammerer (Le Bailli), Matthäus Schmidlechner (Schmidt), Alex Ilvakhin (Johann)
Children of the Vienna Staatsoper School, Orchestra and Stage Orchestra of the Vienna Staatsoper, Bertrand de Billy (conductor)
Andrei Serban (director), Peter Pabst (designer), Peter Pabst, Petra Reinhardt (costumes)
C. Unterreiner, K. Lindsey (© Wiener Staatsoper/Michael Pöhn)
Werther is one of Massenet’s more robust operas, unlike its protagonist’s emotional state which is far from stable. But the story is simple and believable – these are real people with relatable problems – and the music is direct. Having set the scene, the opera gets on with things in its bourgeois fashion and the audience does not have to grapple with some of Massenet’s wilder exoticisms apparent in works such as Esclarmonde or Thaïs, which came either side of Werther. It does mean that Werther has to convince the viewer as there is nowhere to hide, no special effects, no male gaze turned on a dazzling sorceress or courtesan to distract from the bones of the everyday drama.
The production at the Vienna Staatsoper is now twenty years old and wearing very well indeed. Andrei Serban takes the bold step of reframing the story in a 1950’s setting, and it is a success. It retains the sense of a loving family within a tight knit community, and also the consequent sense of social stricture. Life is organised and unsurprising, rules are followed, everything is just so. That’s until Werther arrives and emotions explode, but in a very middle class way: the oxymoron of a quiet combustion. Serban’s permanent set is a thing of beauty: a vast and aged tree centre stage, with stairs leading up a sturdy branch to a tree house above. And so the seasons are marked by foliage, bursting with life for the opening summer scene, bare of leaves for the denouement: simple, effective, moving. We first meet the cast, with le Bailli rehearsing the children in their early Christmas carol. He has more than the stipulated six, it’s obviously a community affair, and the children are pleasingly normal, not too cute, cheerfully bawling their opening lines before settling into well‑tuned harmony. We get to appreciate a happy neighbourhood before things go wrong. I was reminded of Douglas Sirk’s 1950’s Hollywood films, where ordinary people are trapped in melodramatic situations and portrayed sympathetically as they grapple with consequent social complications. We see le Bailli’s easy‑going friendship with Johann and Schmidt, Charlotte’s love for her siblings, Sophie’s bubbly personality. And this is set against a middle class world of enjoying a drink outside in the summer, kids romping around the garden, adults watching television before hitting the cocktail cabinet. Small lives that, to be honest, probably most of us can identify with.
Bertrand de Billy led the orchestra in a rich reading of the score. He did avoid the temptation to wallow and kept the music propulsive. There was much beautiful string playing, for instance at Werther’s first appearance. De Billy did also let rip, and the Entr’acte at the start of Act IV was direct and impassioned. There was one problem: the pit at the State Opera is high and the acoustic pretty perfect which means that the conductor has to balance the decibels between orchestra and stage, and here de Billy sometimes covered his cast in the moments of denser orchestration. Werther is richly scored and the singers need strong middle voices to surmount the torrent, and sometimes they sank.
Perhaps the prime victim of this was Kate Lindsey as Charlotte. Her mezzo is burnished, with a low centre of gravity, and of a refined grain. One immediately imagines the sound sitting atop a sparer orchestration: Mozart seems obvious. And gorgeous though her tone is from bottom to top, Lindsey was sometimes defeated by the waves of sound that were thrown at her. Her Letter Scene was underwhelming, not least as her diction was obscure, but by “Va, laisse couler mes larmes” she was on song. But she made a beautiful job of the role dramatically, a more impassioned Charlotte than usual, physically drawn to Werther and not afraid to reveal the pent up sensuality of a woman trapped in a loveless marriage. She wore her Dior New Look fashions with elegance. Her blonde wig was less convincing, curiously obscuring her features and really not suiting her. I see from the programme that when Angela Gheorghiu sang in the production ten years ago she remained a brunette (but then she has form when it comes to wigs, causing chaos at the Met by balking at Micaela’s blonde locks. She lost in New York but obviously prevailed in Vienna). Lindsey perhaps could have done likewise.
When he arrives, Werther doesn’t bring much to the party except gloom and doom (as the other characters note), but Matthew Polenzani worked well, coming across as serious but affable enough, just introspective. It’s a difficult role to pull off dramatically as Werther can seem full on too quickly with Charlotte, but Polenzani paced the role well. Likewise vocally, starting with his modest “O nature, pleine de grâce”, meaning that his outpouring at “Rêve ! Extase ! Bonheur !” really did sweep her off her feet. His Act III aria was perfectly judged, the climactic A sharps with real squillo, the lines elegantly tapered. Polenzani’s essentially lyric tenor has grown, though I am still not really hearing his forthcoming Otello debut (Stuttgart in May). His diction was excellent. It was a shame that his death scene was performed supine, meaning that the audience in the lower half of the theatre could see little of the singer.
Florina Ilie twittered happily as Sophie, as Sophies should. Her soprano has a lovely spin atop, and she optimised her moments charmingly. Clemens Unterreiner’s Albert was affable at first but not for long, and perhaps his part in Werther’s demise was overplayed. His baritone is dry and French poor. Hans Peter Kammerer’s Bailli, Matthäus Schmidlechner’s Schmidt and Alex Ilvakhin’s Johann worked well in their bucolic burblings.
Francis Muzzu
|
