Faust 06/20/2010
We saw the fifth performance in the current San Francisco opera production of Gounod's Faust, the production designed by Robert Perdziola and featuring Stefano Secco as Faust, Patricia Racette as Marguerite, and John Relyea as Mephistopheles. The production is a "traditional" one with a few interesting twists. The curtain rises on Faust's laboratory, which includes a small table laden with equipment appropriate for a chemistry lab; on the left are four tables, three of which each support a body covered with a sheet. Before Faust sings his first words, there is a knock on the door. Faust goes to answer it, and then we see him guiding a person carrying a body, which is laid out on the empty table. Faust then sings of his ennui, and his desire to bring death upon himself, and invokes Satan. It turns out that the nearest "body" to the audience is Mephistopheles, who sits up straight, garnering chuckles from the audience. He dispenses with the sheet and presents himself impeccably dressed: black tie and tails, black vest, white shirt, black hair slicked straight back. They proceed in classic fashion with the vision of Marguerite, and the contract.
The sides of the set are "brick" buildings, in dark gray, that project a little bit more or a little bit less into the performing space. The flat surface of these buildings is about 10 feet wide. These same sides serve for all of the scenes of the opera ... quite fittingly for Act 1 Scene 2, the street fair. Mephistopheles has changed costume: he emerges, dressed more or less as Harlequin, from a small "covered wagon," the fabric of which is painted with a scene that looks like Hieronymus Bosch. He emphasizes his Song of the Golden Calf by "playing" a violin. At the end of the scene, where he "transforms the crowd's celebration into a decadent bacchanal," he is again calling the tune with his violin, but he is doing it on the other side of a screen, and we see only his shadow cast on the screen.
Act 2 is devoted to the scene outside Marguerite's home. She apparently lives in a brownstone, one of the dark gray brick buildings that we see in every set. There are lots of flowers, including a flower box on top of the prompter's box, and lots of tall vegetation (camelias, perhaps?) in back of where the action takes place. Another chuckle: when Mephistopheles excuses himself to find a present for Marguerite that will outdo Siebel's bouquet, he steps into a small circular well ... and the stage elevator lowers him out of sight, complete with a puff of smoke. He returns the same way, after Faust has sung his aria "Salut d'amour." Later, he follows the stage directions and takes Marthe Schwertlein away so that Faust and Marguerite can be alone. When they return, both are picking strands of hay from their clothes, and the audience chuckled again at the evidence of a "roll in the hay."
Act 3, as presented, comprises four scenes: Marguerite at her loom, the church scene, the Soldier's Chorus, and the prison scene. I cannot remember having seen the loom scene before, nor was any of the music familiar. The program book included an article on the lack of a "definitive" version of Faust, and the fact that it was originally a five-hour opera (not counting intermissions!) before the premiering opera director whittled it down to size. I reckon that this is a scene that is often cut but that was included here as a director's choice.
For the church scene, the "dark gray brick buildings" served equally well as the inside walls of a darkened church. There was also a free-standing wooden structure, with stairs leading up to the pulpit.
The Soldier's Chorus scene was staged very effectively: during the chorus, a functionary mimes the reading of names from a scroll, while Valentin (who appears to be a commanding officer) takes properly folded flags from another functionary, and with a perfect "about face" presents each one to a widow. These widows do not sing, they are supernumeraries, but they are certainly not just stage-struck volunteers--the evidence says that they are trained actors, as their portrayal of grief was all too real.
For the final scene in the prison, the side sets are moved closer to the center, leaving room between them only for a staircase that ascends from stage level to on high. I counted roughly 35 steps, with ten more painted on a backdrop. Mephistopheles and Faust enter from on high, about 20 steps up; at the end, after Marguerite has been saved, she ascends the steps to about that same level--while, at stage level, Mephistopheles presents the contract to the heartbroken Faust.
There are memorable performances, and there are those that are not so memorable. Today's performance falls in the latter class. There was one moment that was worth goosebumps: near the end of Act 2, when Mephistopheles asks the night to cover the lovers with its dark veil. Patricia Racette sings beautifully and acts well; John Relyea is impressive but not (yet) in the same league as the Samuel Ramey of 20 years ago. Stefano Secco was adequate as Faust. The orchestra played well, but I did not get the sense of passion that can be gotten in a stellar performance. John Relyea got the biggest applause at curtain call, and it appeared that the majority of the audience stood up. It's way easier to get a standing ovation in San Francisco than it used to be. That house never stood up ... until Samuel Ramey sang the title role in Boito's Mephistopheles in 1989. That standing ovation was appropriate--that performance was one for the ages.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Die Walküre dress rehearsal 06/06/2010
I had the very good fortune to be invited to the dress rehearsal of San Francisco Opera's upcoming production of Wagner's Die Walküre. The staging was more or less what I'd been led to expect by this review of the production in Washington, D.C. in 2007. Here's what's different in San Francisco:
Act I: When we first see the tree inside Hunding's cabin, we don't see the sword, just as in Washington. But whereas in Washington the sword was behind the tree, here it is stuck in the side of the tree. Apparently it is moved into its position at some point where our attention is distracted elsewhere. Everything else, the outdoor hearth, the taxidermy on the walls, the china cabinet, the gigantic moon, is as described in the review. What really impressed me about Act I was Hunding's acting (Raymond Aceto). Last night at the "Insights" panel discussion, he described himself as a chauvinistic wife-beater, and he played the part to the hilt. I couldn't see it, but I was told that Sieglinde has painted-on bruises.
Act II: The set features a long conference table with a green-and-black stone top. In the background are a half-dozen windows, 6 feet wide by 20 feet tall, with thin frames separating them, looking out over a black-and-white cityscape with lots of skyscrapers, mingled with clouds and smoke. During the prelude, Wotan (chairman of "Wotan Enterprises, Inc." as Mark Delavan told us last night at the panel discussion) is talking gaily on the phone with some unknown person. He's wearing an eye patch, not the eyeglasses with one blackened lens. He hangs up as Brünnhilde enters, and gives her his orders to give the victory to Siegmund in his coming battle with Hunding. As befitting a production set circa 1940 (my judgment, based on the design of the telephone), in the supertitles he does not tell Brünnhilde to "bridle your horse" but rather simply to prepare herself. (The words that are sung are of course the ones that Wagner wrote, it's only the supertitles that have been adapted. They did that for every mention of "horse" in the libretto--you will not find a "horse" in any of the supertitles.) At one point Brünnhilde strides across the length of the table, and she and Wotan tussle over his spear. I found that this presentation of Wotan's lengthy monologue, which can be trying for the Ring novice, moved along quite nicely. It helps to look for the point when Wotan finishes telling us what we already know from Das Rheingold and starts telling us what has happened since then. It's also helpful to pay attention to the leitmotifs.
The dominant feature of the second set for Act II (scenes 3, 4, and 5) is an aerial freeway: square-section concrete posts support the concrete roadway 15 feet above. On the ground beneath the freeway are discarded tires, a discarded sofa (or maybe a bench seat from a car), and other detritus that I couldn't identify due to the low level of lighting in the background. In the fight between Siegmund and Hunding (scene 5), Hunding mentions his dogs; as part of the action, two dogs run quickly across the stage. As in every other production I've seen, Hunding simply stands there after he kills Siegmund. As in Washington, Wotan kills Hunding not with a word or wave of the hand but by breaking his neck. Wotan sings his final lines ("Woe to Brünnhilde") and strides offstage; only then do Brünnhilde and Sieglinde re-enter to pick up the pieces of the broken sword.
Act III: As in Washington, the Valkyries parachute in during the Ride of the Valkyries. These aren't the actual Valkyries; I've been told that they are stagehands. ("Yes, they are men, but you can't tell the difference.") They land just offstage, and then the real Valkyrie runs onto the stage, dragging her parachute. This scene generated applause from the rehearsal audience ... as did the entrance of the Valkyries on their "flying horses" in Seattle in 1997. This time, no horses. When the Valkyries tell each other to keep their horses apart, because the (dead) heroes that they carry were enemies in life and their enmity has been transferred to their horses, the supertitles simply instruct them to keep the heroes apart. Instead of supers playing dead bodies on stage, or mannequins of body parts as in the current Seattle production, these Valkyries are carrying foot-square photos of their heroes. In contrast to Washington, Sieglinde is not provided with a horse for her escape from Wotan's fury.
Wagner's stage directions call for the eight other Valkyries to hide Brünnhilde in their midst as Wotan approaches, full of fury at his daughter's disobedience. Here the eight line up on a steel staircase, and Brünnhilde hides in back of the concrete ramp that supports the top of that staircase. Wotan walks down the staircase, with specific attention to each Valkyrie, as he rages against Brünnhilde. Mark Delavan told us last night at the panel discussion that the Valkyrie at the bottom of the stairs has served in the Israeli armed forces, so he gets right in her face just as a drill sergeant would.
The center of the set is a concrete disc. Brünnhilde is laid to sleep on that disc; Wotan covers her not with her shield (paratroopers don't have shields) but with his long leather coat. She gets to sleep there for a year, until Siegfried awakens her next summer.
How did it all work? For me, the setting of Act I in an Appalachian cabin worked very well, especially Raymond Aceto's powerful portrayal of the rough customer that Hunding is. The moving projections on the scrims, preceding the first two acts, were distractions from the music. And the very first projection looks like a stormy sea. Is this Die Walküre, or Der Fliegende Hollander? The idea of Wotan ruling the world from the top of a skyscraper makes sense, but Siegmund and Sieglinde must have 7-league boots to have been able to make it from the piney woods to an urban freeway in just a few hours. Brünnhilde's Rock done as concrete ramps and steel staircase is serviceable, the paratroopers are a dramatic touch. I do miss the Valkyries hiding Brünnhilde in their midst, which is what the stage directions and the libretto call for, and which does not present the staging challenges of, say, a rainbow bridge. Perhaps the director is trying to tell us something, but I don't know what it is.
This being a dress rehearsal, we were informed that the singers might not be singing using full voice, so it would be inappropriate to comment on that part of the performance.
Act I: When we first see the tree inside Hunding's cabin, we don't see the sword, just as in Washington. But whereas in Washington the sword was behind the tree, here it is stuck in the side of the tree. Apparently it is moved into its position at some point where our attention is distracted elsewhere. Everything else, the outdoor hearth, the taxidermy on the walls, the china cabinet, the gigantic moon, is as described in the review. What really impressed me about Act I was Hunding's acting (Raymond Aceto). Last night at the "Insights" panel discussion, he described himself as a chauvinistic wife-beater, and he played the part to the hilt. I couldn't see it, but I was told that Sieglinde has painted-on bruises.
Act II: The set features a long conference table with a green-and-black stone top. In the background are a half-dozen windows, 6 feet wide by 20 feet tall, with thin frames separating them, looking out over a black-and-white cityscape with lots of skyscrapers, mingled with clouds and smoke. During the prelude, Wotan (chairman of "Wotan Enterprises, Inc." as Mark Delavan told us last night at the panel discussion) is talking gaily on the phone with some unknown person. He's wearing an eye patch, not the eyeglasses with one blackened lens. He hangs up as Brünnhilde enters, and gives her his orders to give the victory to Siegmund in his coming battle with Hunding. As befitting a production set circa 1940 (my judgment, based on the design of the telephone), in the supertitles he does not tell Brünnhilde to "bridle your horse" but rather simply to prepare herself. (The words that are sung are of course the ones that Wagner wrote, it's only the supertitles that have been adapted. They did that for every mention of "horse" in the libretto--you will not find a "horse" in any of the supertitles.) At one point Brünnhilde strides across the length of the table, and she and Wotan tussle over his spear. I found that this presentation of Wotan's lengthy monologue, which can be trying for the Ring novice, moved along quite nicely. It helps to look for the point when Wotan finishes telling us what we already know from Das Rheingold and starts telling us what has happened since then. It's also helpful to pay attention to the leitmotifs.
The dominant feature of the second set for Act II (scenes 3, 4, and 5) is an aerial freeway: square-section concrete posts support the concrete roadway 15 feet above. On the ground beneath the freeway are discarded tires, a discarded sofa (or maybe a bench seat from a car), and other detritus that I couldn't identify due to the low level of lighting in the background. In the fight between Siegmund and Hunding (scene 5), Hunding mentions his dogs; as part of the action, two dogs run quickly across the stage. As in every other production I've seen, Hunding simply stands there after he kills Siegmund. As in Washington, Wotan kills Hunding not with a word or wave of the hand but by breaking his neck. Wotan sings his final lines ("Woe to Brünnhilde") and strides offstage; only then do Brünnhilde and Sieglinde re-enter to pick up the pieces of the broken sword.
Act III: As in Washington, the Valkyries parachute in during the Ride of the Valkyries. These aren't the actual Valkyries; I've been told that they are stagehands. ("Yes, they are men, but you can't tell the difference.") They land just offstage, and then the real Valkyrie runs onto the stage, dragging her parachute. This scene generated applause from the rehearsal audience ... as did the entrance of the Valkyries on their "flying horses" in Seattle in 1997. This time, no horses. When the Valkyries tell each other to keep their horses apart, because the (dead) heroes that they carry were enemies in life and their enmity has been transferred to their horses, the supertitles simply instruct them to keep the heroes apart. Instead of supers playing dead bodies on stage, or mannequins of body parts as in the current Seattle production, these Valkyries are carrying foot-square photos of their heroes. In contrast to Washington, Sieglinde is not provided with a horse for her escape from Wotan's fury.
Wagner's stage directions call for the eight other Valkyries to hide Brünnhilde in their midst as Wotan approaches, full of fury at his daughter's disobedience. Here the eight line up on a steel staircase, and Brünnhilde hides in back of the concrete ramp that supports the top of that staircase. Wotan walks down the staircase, with specific attention to each Valkyrie, as he rages against Brünnhilde. Mark Delavan told us last night at the panel discussion that the Valkyrie at the bottom of the stairs has served in the Israeli armed forces, so he gets right in her face just as a drill sergeant would.
The center of the set is a concrete disc. Brünnhilde is laid to sleep on that disc; Wotan covers her not with her shield (paratroopers don't have shields) but with his long leather coat. She gets to sleep there for a year, until Siegfried awakens her next summer.
How did it all work? For me, the setting of Act I in an Appalachian cabin worked very well, especially Raymond Aceto's powerful portrayal of the rough customer that Hunding is. The moving projections on the scrims, preceding the first two acts, were distractions from the music. And the very first projection looks like a stormy sea. Is this Die Walküre, or Der Fliegende Hollander? The idea of Wotan ruling the world from the top of a skyscraper makes sense, but Siegmund and Sieglinde must have 7-league boots to have been able to make it from the piney woods to an urban freeway in just a few hours. Brünnhilde's Rock done as concrete ramps and steel staircase is serviceable, the paratroopers are a dramatic touch. I do miss the Valkyries hiding Brünnhilde in their midst, which is what the stage directions and the libretto call for, and which does not present the staging challenges of, say, a rainbow bridge. Perhaps the director is trying to tell us something, but I don't know what it is.
This being a dress rehearsal, we were informed that the singers might not be singing using full voice, so it would be inappropriate to comment on that part of the performance.
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