Brilliantly Bonkers - Les Vêpres Siciliennes – First Night, Royal Opera House, 17th October 2013

I don’t normally do first nights.  While the great and the good (and the not so good) like to see and be seen, and critics of course need to be first off the block to publish their thoughts, by and large I much prefer to wait and let the performance ‘bed in’ first.  I already had a ticket booked for mid-run so what on earth made me run to the box office to secure another?

Well, many things as it happens, but primarily the announcement that the first three performances (at least) were to be sung by Lianna Haroutounian due to the indisposition of Marina Poplavskya.  I was lucky enough to catch Lianna singing Elisabetta in Don Carlos (standing in for another indisposed soprano) last year and was impressed by secure, rich-toned voice and the sensitive acting.  A first class Verdi soprano in the making.  Not willing to take a gamble on Ms Poplavskya’s non-return (and I’d quite like to hear her too) I decided to go for a first night ticket.  I managed to bag one of my favourite stalls circle bench-seats  and so I had a nice clear view of most of the proceedings.

As has been written about ad-infinitum elsewhere, Les Vepres Siciliennes is one of Verdi’s neglected masterpieces and even more rarely performed in the original French.  Another good reason to don the glad rags and head off to Covent Garden for the unreasonably (but necessary) early start of 6pm.  I also spotted a few familiar faces amongst the crowds; Norma Major, David Mellor, Mark Elder and Kasper Holten.

So it was with a really keen sense of anticipation that I finally settled into my seat and waited for the overture to begin and the curtain to rise.

Things did not start well – for me at least. 

One of my pet peeves is having some sort of dumb show on stage during overtures, as though the director cannot trust the audience to let the music do the explaining or that he cannot abide music having primacy over drama perhaps? For whatever reason a dumb-show we were treated to.  Which quickly brings me to my second pet peeve and that is the gratuitous depiction of rape on the opera stage – and this all before the overture was even finished.  But for some strange reason I was in a forgiving mood and I decided to give Stefan Herheim a pass for both transgressions just this once.  Given the rarity with which this opera is performed, a little back story for those in the audience who had come rushing in straight from work did not go amiss.

Ah yes, Stefan Herheim, one of the 'enfant terribles' of the operatic ‘regie-theatre’ world.  The audience must have been half-afraid, half-hoping that some shocking piece of lèse-majesté would be let loose upon the stage.  I for one was just hoping for excellent music making and hopefully a coherent piece of story-telling.  Well I'm happy to report that I certainly got my first wish – and nearly all of my second.

If you did not happen to know that the original opera was set in the 13^th century  then on the surface it looked as traditional as they come.  But the action had been transposed to the time of the opera’s composition – a not entirely original idea it has to be said, but the sets and costumes were gorgeous indeed.  Also included was the ‘stage with in a stage’ concept, this time the stage was the Paris opera house where this opera first debuted. Apparently all of this was supposed to illustrate the ‘rape of art’.  I'm not sure that it entirely succeeded but it didn't interfere with the actual story being played out in music and words so I went with it.  The final act is where Herheim lost me completely, but so completely and utterly bonkers was it, that really you just couldn't help smiling.

If the production values were of the highest, then so was most of the singing.  The four cast principles were pretty evenly matched with perhaps Michael Volle standing out as a dramatically and vocally superb de Montfort.  Erwin Schrott was a hoot as an especially effete but essentially dangerous Procida – here played as a Ballet Master. I though that the chemistry with Lianna Haroutounian was especially close.  Lianna started off well with gorgeous dark-toned and luscious singing but to my ears at least, she audibly tired towards the end  - which is unfortunately where Verdi placed her big aria of the night.  Trills and coloratura were approximate in ‘Merci jeunes amies’  but it was never unmusical.  I was trying to think who would be up to the task of this role today and must admit I can’t really think of anyone – not even Anja Harteros who seems to be the pre-eminent Verdi soprano of today.  However I really enjoyed Lianna’s singing and I hope the Royal Opera has signed her up in her own right, rather than as a replacement for ailing sopranos.

Now, anyone who knows me, or reads this blog, will know that my favourite voice type is tenor.  I have heard Bryn Hymel before in Les Troyens where he stepped in for Jonas Kaufmann and did a very competent job indeed.  And while he did another sterling job here (in a very demanding role) I still can’t say that I enjoyed his singing.  There’s nothing wrong with it, indeed there is much to admire, including his facility in the upper ranges of the tenor voice.  It is simply that the basic tone doesn't really appeal to me.  There’s a lack of ‘glamour’ in the voice – vocal glamour I hasten to add, not personal.  Indeed Mr Hymel is a good looking chap who obviously knows his way around the stage and is a decent actor to boot.  But I just didn't ‘feel’ it – but that only goes to show that reaction to voices is a very individual thing.

So all in all, a very enjoyable night indeed.  It was a treat to hear such good singing in an all too rare performance of a Verdi opera.  Tony Pappano was of course the ultimate star of the show, leading the orchestra in a sensitive but thrilling rendition of the score.

The production, far from being outlandish and unmusical (as some might have feared) was sure-footed, thought provoking and entirely at one with the music.  The production team was certainly greeted with enthusiasm at curtain-call time, which has not always been the case with new productions at ROH recently.  There was really nothing here to scare the children as it were (unless you count Erwin Schrott in a frock), which is why I suspect the audience lapped it up.

In fact at times it all seemed a bit too familiar.  There was a hint of Ballo in Maschera in the ball scene (musically as well as scenically) and I was struck by a resemblance in parts to the 1982 Ernani at La Scala with Domingo.  And speaking of Ernani, now what wouldn’t I give to see a new production of that at Covent Garden?

But in the meantime, I would heartily recommend that if you possibly can, go see this.  You won’t regret it.