Inutilia truncat is one of the most representative “slogans” of Classical art, one Dieter Dorn could have claim to follow when creating his 1997 production of Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro for the Bavarian State Opera. There is no lack of action in Beaumarchais’s story as told by Lorenzo da Ponte, but the truth is that you should take good care of what you are showing on stage when you are showing basically very little. Jürgen Rose’s sets never suggest anything clean and elegant, but rather lack of imagination and limited budget. As if saggy white fabric walls were not disappointing enough, the Countess is denied furniture but only a couple of blue chairs on a blue linoleum (Susanna has to write her letter to the Count on the floor with an instrument the handiness of which can only suggest a ball pen miraculously sent from the future) and the whole garden scene is reduced to three large pieces of white cloth under the most glaring lighting one can think of. If the Count does not recognize his wife as thoroughly lit as she was there, it was probably because he was dazzled by followspots. After 13 years, it is impossible to speak of the director’s original ideas for his actors, but the most positive aspect of this performance was the overall very good stage performances from all involved. Although there is probably nothing original going on here, this was nimbly performed by the cast.
The only character who seems to have deserved special consideration seems to be the Countess, here shown as the mistress of her own household ready to use Susanna and Figaro for her purposes (i.e., winning her husband back) almost as selfishly as the Count. It was most fortunate that Barbara Frittoli could perform the concept as believably as she has done this evening. Although her attitude towards her servants was quite liberal, this tampered nothing with the fact that they were supposed to obey her orders. Also, even if she longed for her husband attentions, this did not prevent her from loosing her temper at him whenever an instance of his misbehavior had been found out. The Milanese soprano’s vibrant voice has always required some time for a demanding ear to adjust it to the needs of Mozartian instrumental purity and, even if these days it is running dangerously close to unacceptability, it still remains inside the realm of admissibility. Once you get used to it, you will find a stylish singer able to very clean attack in testing moments such as Porgi, amor, easy ascent to her high register (she sang her own high notes as written by Mozart, instead of delegating them to her Susanna) and a very homogenous tonal quality throughout her range. More than that, a singer who handles the text intelligently and whose soprano is large enough to tackle a lyric role in a larger house without forcing and capable of shading without holding back. Although her singing this evening was hardly immaculate, it was nonetheless engaging, expressive and spirited.
Camilla Tilling is the owner of a pretty voice and has a strong sense of Mozartian style, but lacks projection and tends to be overshadowed by the orchestra and other singers. She was also an austere, rather charmless Susanna, but still spontaneous and surprisingly quite realistic. In the end, even if I missed some vivaciousness, I could not help thinking that the trade-off for the usual commandingness and cuteness was somehow positive. As Cherubino, Anna Bonitatibus was, on the other hand, vivaciousness itself. Hers is an irresistibly warm voice and she has temper to spare. After some problems during Non so più , she offered a memorable Voi che sapete, desire, anxiety and seduction perfectly balanced. The Almaviva family was quite well represented this evening, for Mariusz Kwiecien proved to be an exemplary Count. His strong baritone finds no difficulty in this writing and he knows how to convey bossiness while keeping some charm. Although Ildebrando d’Arcangelo proved to be less creative as Figaro, his is a firm, generously and vigorously produced voice and, as Frittoli and Bonitatibus, could make recitatives sparkle in the idiomatic usage of their native language.
Juraj Valcuha seems to have a good idea of how this opera should be performed within the limits of Mozartian style and the house orchestra is adeptly flexible and clear, even if the sound was not terribly beautiful, but the idea behind the gesture was not always there. Too often, the proceedings suggested the mechanical rather than the spirited. To make things worse, now and then one would suspect that a couple of extra rehearsals could have been helpful – ensembles were often poorly timed and every member of the cast, in various degrees, would occasionally experiment some trouble in following the conductor’s beat.
Good review, rml.
I liked “Jürgen Rose’s sets never suggest anything clean and elegant, but rather lack of imagination and limited budget”.
On 98% of the productions that I attend, I have this same impressions of “limited budget”. I hate that. But when the director and set designers are clever, they can turn “limited budget” into something really interesting. But when lack of imagination runs side by side with limited budget, then the singers have to be really good to compensate.
I saw Mariusz Kwiecien around 5 years ago as Don Giovanni. I am not sure if it was the beginning of his international career, but I knew right away that he would grown.
Hi, Roberto!
Thanks! I understand that it must be VERY difficult to stage an opera on a restricted budget, but who’s told that being a stage director is an easy job? I have no sympathy for lazy stage directors – they are well paid to have brilliant ideas and find solutions for impossible problems. Saying that difficulty is an excuse for a sloppy job would be the same thing as going to the doctor and hearing that the surgery you need is too difficult to perform and that you are going to get a painkiller instead…
You’re undoubtedly right RML that “cheap” and “unimaginative” are much more descriptive than “clean” and “elegant”. However there is a (very excessive to be sure) lack of clutter and plenty of room for a director (of the particular revival) and cast to present the story in a compelling way, and indeed I have seen it done a number of times. Also, and obviously the personality and portrayal of the singer are crucial here, the production seems to allow the Contessa to play a role even more central to and dominant within the story. I’m not sure if you’re suggesting that Frittoli did play such a part – although you do, I’m pleased to read, seem to have enjoyed her performance – but to me she did seem to impose herself on the proceedings in an effortless but eloquent way.
Also, the glaring light is very problematic in view of the libretto but does have the advantage of enabling the viewer to see the proceedings very clearly and this can be very much to the good when the singers make give substance to their parts through gestures and facial expressions.
Hi, Cavalier!
As you guessed, I did have the impression that the extra something Frittoli brought to the Countess was created by herself rather than by a director of a production premiered years ago. But I’m only guessing…
As for the garden scene. Well, I have to be picky about that – characters clearly mentions a garden, pine trees and that it is dark. They could have transformed the single set in a winter garden, with a couple of vases with pine trees so that people could hide behind them instead of the ridiculous white cloths. As for the lighting, of course, there is a gain in enabling the audience to see singers’ faces, but they could have used a discrete blue lighting to suggest that, on stage, it is dark. As staged in Munich, this was probably the less dark scene in the whole opera… Again, my general impression was of carelessness – I had the impression that all resources were conveyed to the Tosca with Karita Mattila and Jonas Kaufmann and this was only a stopgap.