It’s not often these days you get a round of applause greet
a singer appearing on the stage, the sort of thing that you can hear on many a live Callas or Tebaldi recording. Yet that’s what happened when Anja Harteros
swept in here. It was just a smattering, though, and, as far as one can gauge the
tenor of these things, sounded a little sarcastic to me.
Someone also shouted something, which I couldn’t make out.
I’d been let down the last time I was due to here Harteros in Berlin too, as
the Marschallin in the Deutsche Oper’s Straussfest earlier in the year, and had
been nervously checking the website up to a couple of hours before the
performance started.
But there she was, and the quality of her performance only
underlined why there is a frustration—opera-goers in London have long given up
of ever seeing her there again—that she tends to cancel, for whatever
reason.
Her performances in other roles might not suggest that she’s
temperamentally a natural Tosca, but to think that is to underestimate the
quality of her artistry. She’s no scenery-chewer and everything’s always in
control, and arguably this was an ‘old-fashioned’ performance was a good fit for
the grandeur of what must one of the Deutsche Oper’s oldest productions, dating
from 1969.
But that didn’t stop her presenting what was probably the
most complete performance of the role I’ve seen, or heard. Her guttural command
to Scarpia to die at the end of Act 2 was chilling, while her transition from
conspiratorial whisper to shock at Cavaradossi’s not-so-fake execution—a moment
that so often just doesn’t quite work—was perfectly managed. The voice was in
great condition, too, powerful and free at the top.
It’s rare to hear the role sung with such style and finesse:
key passages such as the conclusion of a soaring, long-breathed ‘Vissi d’arte’,
or the character’s final lines in Act 1—‘Dio mio perdona. Egli vede ch’io
piango!’—were exquisitely turned. But such things are not just niceties for
canary-fanciers: Harteros makes such musical quality translate into nobility and
grandeur of character, making one not only believe in the character but also
care about her. I felt lucky to be there, and to have added another Harteros
role to my mental cabinet of cherished operatic memories.
It obviously wasn’t just about her, though, and she had an impressive
Cavaradossi in the Tenerife-born Jorge de León, a handsome chap with a big,
bright voice that would fill any house, and who sings with some style. It’s not
the most seductive sound, perhaps, with a narrow bore and a hint of nasality,
but it’s often a thrilling one, and he sails through the role with real
confidence. Lucio Gallo jumped in late in the day for the one cancellation we
did have—Falk Struckmann pulling out as Scarpia. Ivan Repušić conducted a generous, bold account of the score. The orchestra played their hearts out and I don’t
think I’ve seen a more lively and mischievous children’s choir than here with
the Deutsche Oper’s kids.
A few words more about Boleslaw Barlog’s production, with
designs by Filippo Sanujust, and which was spruced up by Götz Friederich in its
1987 Wiederaufnahme. It hardly looks
any older than Jonathan Kent’s 2006 Royal Opera staging, to pick just one more recent ‘traditional’ staging, and still does service very well. My only gripe is the caricatured
Spoletto—rather too much Beckmesser and evil Mr Bean in there—and the rest of
Scarpia’s entourage, who look as if they might have escaped from a production
of Oliver!. Nevermind, though: this
was a very good night at the Deutsche Oper.
No comments:
Post a Comment