Although the plot of Albéric Magnard’s opera Guercoeur could be explained in three sentences, the story of its creation is far more eventful. If the composer was Wagnerian in style, in political terms he was overtly anti-Germanic. When a group of WWI German soldiers approached his house, he opened fire. The response was extreme: the house was burnt with its owner and the score of Guercoeur. As a result, Magnard never saw it staged. Although the work was completed in 1901, no theatre volunteered to include it in its season. Only in 1908 he managed to have the first and last act performed in concert under the baton of his friend Guy Ropartz. Two years later, Gabriel Pierné conducted the same program in the Théâtre du Châtelet, until it was finally staged in the Opéra de Paris in 1931 (and reprised the following year) with Ropartz’s recreation from memory of the orchestration of acts 1 and 3. Fortunately, a copy of the orchestral score of act 2 had been preserved.
As it is, the Opéra du Rhin’s new production is only the second time this work has ever been seen in a French opera house. Again we’re faced with the phenomenon of the “neglected masterpiece”. With the dramatic circumstances of its creation, one could assume that it should have been considered a matter of honor in France. It became nonetheless a footnote in the history of opera, and one could blame its peculiar structure.
Guercoeur is a hero who died freeing his people from tyranny while madly in love with Giselle (a young woman). On arriving in a paradise presided by Truth (aided by Beauty, Goodness and Suffering), he declares he doesn’t care about celestial joys and demands to be sent back. Truth consents, but when Guercoeur arrives on earth (two years later), Giselle has broken her vow of never falling in love again and is pregnant with his disciple Heurtal’s son. The hero forgives her and decides to concentrate on politics, only to discover that Heurtal has become a populist and convinced everybody that they should make him their dictator. Guercoeur tries to open everyone’s eyes, but ends up killed by a furious mob. He is sent back to heaven, claiming he had learned his lesson. Truth forgives him and tells him that his predicament was not in vain, for one day humanity will learn the importance of love, freedom and solidarity.
As we can see, acts 1 and 3 take place in heaven, where basically nothing happens other than philosophical exchanges with allegorical figures. As a result, Guercoeur seems like a verismo-plot sandwiched between two parts of an oratorio. I know Guercoeur from Michel Plasson’s recording with José Van Dam and Hildegard Behrens, and have found the paradise scenes a bit tautological. Therefore I had placed my expectations on act 2, and to my surprise live in the theatre acts 1 and 3 were the ones who did the trick for me. Yes, there’s more than a splash of kitsch in the whole concept, but still Magnard was not faking anything when he wrote it. It is an expression of his sincere hope for mankind and he wrote exquisite music with lush orchestration to illustrate this. If act 2 is less convincing, it was craftily devised with some dramatic choral confrontations when the pro- and anti-Heurtal parties fight. To be honest, also in theatrical terms, the paradise scenes can be surprisingly effective in the way Magnard makes the allegorical figures almost three-dimensional.
As one can see, it is a tough nut to crack in scenic terms, and director Christof Loy decided to keep it simple (as usual). So we have a rotating set, both sides similar but for the fact that paradise is full black, while earth is white. The only props are chairs. The whole thing is not terribly creative — the auditorium is entirely lit when Truth says the world will be fair in the future, twinkle twinkle little starts are lit on the black wall in the end — but this does not spoil the fun at all and let the story and the music work it’s effect. Furthermore, the Personenregie is efficient and unpretentious.
The performances in Strasbourg that opened this run were conducted by Ingo Metzmacher, being replaced (as often) in Mulhouse by a younger conductor, this time a very young Anthony Fournier, who fulfilled his tasks adeptly. The Strasbourg Philharmonic played richly, full string section without any loss in clarity in relation to the other sections. The vocal parts can be demanding, and there was an ideal balance between stage and the pit. The house chorus did a top level job, their singing richer and more expressive than in Plasson’s recording. And there was a classy, superb cast.
Stéphane Degout offered an all-round perfect performance in the title role, even in comparison to Van Dam in the studio recording. He was at his best voice, pouring velvety sounds throughout and delivering the text expressively and intelligently. Bravo. In the difficult role of Truth, Catherine Hunold sang with Crespin-ish roundness of tone, floating beautiful mezza voce and phrasing with great poise while flashing big acuti now and then, only occasionally grating. Although Antoinette Dennefeld (Giselle) could sound tremulous in her middle register, her mezzo has a very pleasant, feminine color, she has no problem with producing full high notes and she sings with imagination. Julien Henric (Heurtal) showed great potential for the heroic repertoire, his high register naturally bright and forceful, and he scales down without any difficulty when this is necessary. Eugénie Joneau (Goodness) has a beautiful, focused mezzo soprano that made me curious for more, Adriana Bignagni Lesca (Suffering) offered spacious low notes and and sang with great authority while Gabrielle Philiponet (Beauty) completed this trio with easy, round top notes.
1 – Hello, Jerold! Good to hear from you! I did wonder if you’d be there for this Guercoeur. I have to say that I agree with you about the recording, which sounds rather cold in comparison to the performance in Mulhouse. I also agree that the last act is the best. Live it was quite moving too. Maybe a concert version with a big orchestra like the Berlin Philharmonic would be an interesting idea. They have been exploring French music for a while (I’ve seen them in stuff ranging from Rameau to La Demoiselle élue there).
2 – It could be interesting to hear it in Frankfurt too, although I see that there is not one Francophone singer in the cast (especially the title role). I found that Degout was just perfect in the role, more vulnerable and also more direct than Van Dam in the recording. I don’t think Anna Gabler is a good idea for Verité at all. It requires someone who can sound poised in high lying phrases. I last saw Gabler many years ago as an Arabella who couldn’t make it through the duet with Mandryka.
3 – I only know DFD from recordings. While I find him out of this planet in the old EMI ones, I cannot say I truly like anything he recorded for DG, authoritative as he is. And yet I understand – and agree – when you say that Krimmel is not “subtle”. I struggled for a word when I wrote the review. I first used “crazy(in the good sense of the word” and then went for “wild”. His approach can be showy, unlike DFD’s, but he does it with panache, and in a way that speaks to younger audiences. In Basel, there were many young students (probably participants in the festival workshops) and they went nuts about him. Some of them were in the tram on the way back home and they couldn’t stop talking about how amazing it was. As I’ve said, the idea of “new DFD” is a simplistic way of telling that he is the guy you should go for in Lieder these days (as much as DFD used to be in the past), but the comparison is problematic since they are entirely different singers in almost every way. There have been some “new DFDs” – Andreas Schmidt, for instance – and they all had to deal with the opinion that “it was just like the old guy, but not really”.