Royal Opera House
(concert performance)
Countess Madeleine – Renée
Fleming
Olivier – Christian Gerhaher
Flamand – Andrew Staples
La Roche – Peter Rose
The Count – Bo Skhovus
Clairon – Tanja Ariane
Baumgartner
Major-Domo – John Cunningham
Italian Singer – Mary Plazas
Italian Singer – Barry Banks
Servants – Pablo Bemsch,
Michel de Souza, David Butt Philip, Jihoon Kim, Ashley Riches, Simon Gfeller,
Jeremy Budd, Charbel Mattar
Monsieur Taupe – Graham Clark
Orchestra of the Royal Opera
House
Sir Andrew Davis (conductor)
‘Wort oder Ton?’ may be the
Countess’s question, but it is far from the only question asked in, let alone
by, Capriccio. La Roche, for instance,
introduces the rival element of the stage – and seems, by the force of his
panegyric alone, to have won everyone over. (Not, of course that that brief
meeting of minds and souls whole; once discussion of the opera begins, æsthetic and personal bickering resume.) The
question of staging inevitably came to mind, here, of course, given the curious
decision to present Capriccio in
concert. Even if, as rumour has it, the decision to perform Strauss’s last
opera was made late in the day, as a consequence of Renée Fleming having
elected not after all to take on the role of Ariadne, it is difficult to
understand why, instead of a desultory couple of concert performances, a production
from elsewhere might not have been brought in. The Cologne Opera’s excellent,
provocative staging, seen
first at the Edinburgh Festival, would have been one candidate; so, by all accounts,
would be Robert Carsen’s Paris production. (That is to leave aside the
question, worthy of Capriccio itself,
of why a singer wields such power at all. Gérard Mortier in Paris had the healthier
attitude that if ‘stars’ were willing to perform in and to throw
themselves wholeheartedly into interesting repertoire and stagings, all the
better; if not, a house could and should manage perfectly well without them.)
Anyway, we had what we had –
and I missed a full staging far less than I should ever have expected. Part of
that was a matter of a generally strong musical performance, Ton winning out perhaps, but it seemed
also to be a credit to the acting skills of the singers, who edged the
performance towards, if not the semi-staged, at least the semi-acted. Though
most did not follow Fleming’s lead – she has recently sung her role on stage –
in dispensing with their scores, there was genuine interaction between them and
more than a little moving around the stage in front of the orchestra. Presumably
those credited with ‘stage management’ – Sarah Waling and Fran Beaumont – had some
part in this far from negligible achievement too. Moreover, Fleming’s Vivienne
Westwood gown, granted a lengthy description in the ‘production credits’, might
as well have been intended for a staged performance.
Fleming’s performance was
more mixed than her fans would doubtless admit, or perhaps even notice. There
was a good degree of vocal strain, especially at the top, accompanied at times
by a scooping that should have no place in Strauss. It would be vain, moreover
to claim that there were not too many times when one could not discern the
words. That said, it seemed that there was an attempt to compensate for (relative)
vocal deficiencies by paying greater attention to the words than one might have
expected; there were indeed occasions when diction was excellent. She clearly
felt the agonistic tensions embodied in the role, and expressed them on stage
to generally good effect in a convincingly ‘acted’ performance. There were
flaws in her final soliloquy, but it moved – just as the Mondscheinmusik did despite an unfortunate slip by the first horn.
It will come as no surprise
that Christian Gerhaher excelled as Olivier. Both he and Andrew Staples offered
winning, ardent assumptions of their roles as suitors for the affections of the
Countess – and of opera itself. Gerhaher’s way with words, and the alchemy he
affects in their marriage with music, remains an object lesson . His cleanness
of tone was matched – no mean feat – by that of Staples, a more than credible
rival. Peter Rose offered a properly larger than life La Roche, though vocally,
especially during his paean to the theatre, it could become a little
threadbare. Bo Skovhus may no longer lay claim to the vocal refulgence of his
youth; he can still hold a stage, though, even in a concert performance, and
offered a reading of the Count’s role that was both intelligent and dramatically
compelling. Tanja Ariane Baumgartner, whom I have had a few occasions to praise
in performances outside this country, made a splendid Covent Garden debut as
Clairon, rich of tone and both alluring and lively of presence. Graham Clark
offered a splendid cameo as Monsieur Taupe, rendering the prompter’s late arrival
genuinely touching. There was, moreover, strong singing, both in solo and in
ensemble, from the band of servants, many of them Jette Parke Young Artists. John
Cunningham’s Major-Domo faltered somewhat, but he had a good line in the brief
declamatory. The audience clearly fell for Mary Plazas and Barry Banks as the Italian
Singers, though I was not entirely convinced that some of those cheering understood
that they were acknowledging Strauss in parodic mode.
Sir Andrew Davis led an
estimable performance from the orchestra, the occasional fluff notwithstanding.
There were moments of stiffness, not least in the Prelude; transitions were not
always as fluid as they might have been. Davis, however, marshalled his forces
well, and pointed up the myriad of references to other music, whether direct quotation
or something more allusive. For all the perfectly poised nature of the ‘discussion’,
we always know that Strauss (and thus music) will win out, as he did here. The
performance was recorded by BBC Radio 3 for future broadcast: inevitable cavils
notwithstanding, it remains highly recommended.
