Manon Lescaut
It was great to be in the Millennium Centre
Cardiff’s Opera House again last weekend. I really like the building,
but had forgotten just how colourful the actual auditorium space is when you
get in. And to watch top quality opera at Cardiff prices helps the enjoyment
no end! We were there for Manon Lescaut, the opera that made Puccini’s
reputation, and being performed alongside Boulevard Solitude and La Traviata as part of the WNO’s ‘Fallen
Women’ series. Although very popular, it is not an opera I knew, so I
was looking forward to the performance. The production was a modern take on the opera. While
Puccini had his characters awaiting a coach in a pub, this was set in a
ticket hall of a station/airport. The hyperactive back projection kept us
captured in an almost never ending tempo of travel and movement. Manon appears, in scarlet smoking and wearing designer
shades. All very visually exciting, but what on earth was going on? I am not at all against modern productions, but translating
the action to another period, which must inevitably lead to losing some
aspects of the original, must aid understanding or draw interesting parallels
with modern times or in some way enhance the story. The problem with Mariusz Trelinski’s Manon was that far from adding to the audience’s
understanding it completely confused us. It is not a good sign surely when
everyone on the way out is asking each other what on earth was happening.
This is hardly difficult opera, yet everyone was stumped. For instance, at
one point a mannequin is bought on to dance with an unnamed character....
Why? If Manon is really an innocent on her way to a
nunnery, why dress her as a vamp? But clearly the director likes a bit of
female flesh. To help us understand that Geronte is
a licentious and ‘bad’ character, he has two of the chorus crawl
around the stage in leather underwear, wearing dog leads. Later, when in
prison, the female prisoners wearing very little, teeter around on imaginary
ropes being ogled by a group of men who vote their preferences. But perhaps
the biggest problem is that the final scene, the tear-jerking operatic finale
with the heroine dying, exhausted in the desert, which is carried out in an
empty ticket hall with multiple versions of Manon
appearing. It was this finale, confusing rather heart-rending, which led to
our companions in the lift at the end asking what actually happened. The
tragedy here was that there was barely a damp eye in the house. I entirely understand the desire of directors to re-imagine
popular, standard classics. Last year’s Othello at the National Theatre
was a classic example, where by setting the play in Afghanistan I at least
for the first time understood the military aspect of the play. Of course you
lose something, but I felt my understanding of the play enhanced by the
setting. Here, sadly, the director has simply got it wrong. But it is opera, so you can close your eyes and simply
listen to the singing. The orchestra, conducted by Lothar
Koenigs was spot on, and the principal leads, Gwyn
Hughes Jones and Chiara Taigi, were excellent to my
ear, with the supporting cast strong and highly competent. |
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Blog #13 |
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