Sunday 1 March 2015

The More the Merrier!

Even for me, this is pushing the envelope -- I've just attended my third opera performance in a week!  One was live, and the other two were movie theatre telecasts of live performances from the Metropolitan Opera in New York. 

Today, things got a bit lighter.  Instead of the dramma giocoso of Don Giovanni or the huge-scale human comedy of Die Meistersinger, yesterday's production rebroadcast from the Met was one of the most delightful light operas/operettas in all of the repertoire: Franz Lehar's The Merry Widow. 

One of the vexed questions surrounding such stage pieces is the issue of when exactly an opera should instead be called an operetta.  There is no definitive answer.  The closest I've ever seen was when one writer said that the dominant characteristic of operetta is its refusal ever to take itself seriously.  That one works for me.  Suffice it to say that The Merry Widow is one of the most delightful, entertaining, fizzy confections ever served up for the joy of an opera house audience.  And it is very much to the Met's credit that neither the performers nor the backstage and offstage departments in any way stint themselves on a show like this by comparison with the house's more serious productions.

The story of The Merry Widow resides in the same neighbourhood, maybe even on the same street, as George Bernard Shaw's comedy Arms and the Man.  Both poke gently barbed fun at the then-newly-emerged nations of the Balkan region, contrasting them with the more "developed" societies of Western Europe.  The plot is not much more substantial than whipped cream and meringue, but that's what makes it so entertaining.  Indeed, if there was ever a "party piece", this operetta is it -- since each of the three acts takes place at a party!

The Met has chosen to stage The Merry Widow in a new English-language version by Jeremy Sams.  Note that I have not said "translation", and that is deliberate.  Some of the solos and choruses have texts which sound remotely like the German originals, but many have no connection at all (or only the most tenuous thematic link).  The same is true of the spoken dialogue which carries the story forward.  It's only sensible, since idiomatic jokes in one language rarely (never?) translate literally into another.  I really liked the version which Sams created.  The dialogue jokes were appropriately witty and suggestive, but not crude.  The texts of the sung portions had very clever rhymes.  All in all, his work added enormously to the entertainment value of the performance.

The Met has also, equally sensibly, adopted a "crossover" approach to staging this work.  For the stage director, they have turned to noted Broadway director Susan Stroman -- who also choreographed the terrific dance sequences.  Three of the four main singing roles are taken by performers with strong Broadway credentials.  And the show includes professional Broadway dancers as well as the dancing members of the Metropolitan Opera Chorus.  These dancers already made a big impression in the "kolo" of Act 2, but their dazzling acrobatics in the Act 3 can-can went right off the chart, and earned a huge round of applause.

Taking the principals from the second couple first, Alek Schrader made a great impression as the romantic Camille de Rossillon with his clear, ringing tenor and ardent acting.  Kelli O'Hara made her Met debut as the object of his affections, the young married lady Valencienne, Baroness Zeta.  The greatest peak of her performance was her appearance as a can-can dancer ("grisette") at Maxim's in Act 3.  She managed the considerable feat of continuing to appear drunk and incapable while still executing some pretty tricky choreography.  Her voice, also light and clear, paired well with Schrader in their several duets.

And then there was her elderly husband, Baron Mirko Zeta, the Pontevedran ambassador to Paris.  This is mainly an acting role, although there are some key moments of solo singing and several ensembles for him.  The Met's inspired choice was the veteran British star Sir Thomas Allen.  He's been performing for well over 40 years, and his lyric baritone commands the stage as strongly as ever.  But his acting was even more impressive, voice and face allied to project the worried diplomat who eventually discovers that he is also (likely) a cuckold.  It was a treasurable character portrait.

Next we come to the junior diplomat, Count Danilo Danilowitsch, portrayed with panache by baritone Nathan Gunn.  With wide experience in both the opera house and the musical theatre, Gunn proved ideal for a role which creates both acting and vocal demands aplenty.  His drunken scenes were every bit as convincing -- and hilarious -- as Kelli O'Hara's.

The widow:  Hanna Glawari.  This has long been a signature role for lyric sopranos, not least because of the heart-tugging Vilja Song in Act 2.  But that's only one of a number of vocal highlights in the role.  The singer who would take the role of Hanna had better be possessed of that unmistakable and indefinable "star" quality that stops people in their tracks.  Renee Fleming certainly has it!  Vocally, her performance was full of nuance and character, while still soaring effortlessly to the numerous high notes.  As an opera singer, Fleming lacks the stage acting experience of several of her colleagues, but she did very well in her dialogue scenes.  Stroman's choreography considerately spared her the excesses required of others, and she plainly had worked hard to be able to waltz convincingly and effortlessly.

The whole performance was brought together by the "baton" of Sir Andrew Davis (he actually conducted without a baton!).  A veteran of many opera houses including the Met, Davis led a finely paced reading of the score that included many authentically Viennese phrasing and pacing touches.  There was one point early on when the singers and orchestra got away from each other for a moment, but other than that the entire performance was both convincing and beguiling.

Two thumbs up to the Metropolitan Opera for such an entertaining and beautiful presentation of this well-loved operetta classic.

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