Capriccio, Metropolitan Opera HD Live, April 23 2011

This performance of Capriccio reminded me of a friend’s opinion that “the first act of Götterdämmerung is the shortest two hours in all of opera.” The opera was billed as running 2 hrs 45 min (that there would be no intermission was not made clear), actually ran 2 hrs 30 min, but when the curtain came down I found myself thinking "Was that a typo? Hasn’t it been more like 1 hr 45 min?" But it was, for sure, 12:35 pm, and the time had for the most part flown by—though I confess having fallen victim to a wandering mind a few times.

I have to credit the performers with doing a lot with a little bit of material. There is a love triangle, with the composer and poet both contending for the attention of the Countess, but it must be the most cultured, most refined love triangle on any stage. The two men attempt to woo the Countess by exercising their respective crafts, to write the music and the words for an opera, and to let the Countess decide which is the more important, the music or the words. A couple of others also get to have their say: the stage director, who will actually make the opera happen, and the comical prompter, who insists that without him it wouldn’t actually happen.

So it’s something of an opera within an opera, although the inner opera is never presented. Although it’s a love triangle, that is really a subplot (or stand-in) to the primary issue: music or words? It’s a vehicle for Strauss and and his co-librettist Clemens Krauss to engage in self-referential horseplay; it’s an opera about opera. There is a particularly unsubtle bit of self-reference when the principal characters exit the stage and the chorus of servants comes in to straighten things up as they comment on what they have overheard. One of them observes that “the next thing you know, they’ll be putting servants in opera.”

There’s not much to say about the set; it’s pretty much what you would expect: an elegant drawing room with sofas and easy chairs and small tables with lamps, and a piano. And a harp, which Renee Fleming (as the Countess) certainly appeared to be playing herself.

Our cast:
Countess: Renee Fleming
Flamand: Joseph Kaiser
Olivier: Russell Braun
Count: Morten Frank Larsen
Clairon: Sarah Connolly
La Roche: Peter Rose
Conductor: Andrew Davis
Production: John Cox

Renee Fleming was her usual luminous, wonderful self. The remainder of the cast acquitted themselves well, especially Peter Rose, who sung the bass role of the stage director superbly. I could be a Peter Rose fan, if he stays away from Osmin. When I saw him in Abduction from the Seraglio a few years ago, the lowest notes were not within his grasp. It was an embarrassing display of opening his mouth and no sound coming out.

Capriccio is not a great opera; it’s not even a great Strauss opera. It’s an acceptable vehicle for a world-class soprano; it’s pleasant enough; thankfully, it is no Domestic Symphony. In this performance, it’s not quite a beta.