Jurgita
Adomonytė (Mélisande) and Jacques Imbrailo (Pelléas) Photos: Clive Barda |
Pelléas – Jacques
Imbrailo
Mélisande – Jurgita
Adomonytė
Golaud – Christopher
Purves
Genevieve –
Leah-Marian Jones
Arkel – Scott Wilde
Yniold – Rebecca
Bottone
Conductor – Lothar
Koenigs
Director – David
Pountney
Sets – Johan Engels
Costumes –
Marie-Jeanne Lecca
Lighting – Mark
Jonathan
While not wishing
hardship on any opera company, forced economy can sometimes reap
greater artistic dividends than the generosity of unlimited funds. I
find it hard to believe that David Pountney’s decision to base his
new production of Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande
in the same (expensive-looking) set by the late Johan Engels that had
embraced their acclaimed staging of Berg’s Lulu
two seasons ago was purely an artistic one. But what ever the savings
of ‘make do and mend’, there’s validity in the director’s
drawing of parallels between the two operas and in particular their
leading ladies. Both Lulu and Mélisande seem to have an
uncontrollable effect on all the men they meet, but with the
difference lying in their self-knowledge: Debussy’s heroine is no
femme fatale, but an
innocent in a cruel world. Pountney emphasises this, not only in the
depiction of her victimhood at the hands of Golaud, but also
suggesting that there isn’t a man in Allemonde who can elude her
charms – from the aged Arkel even down to the ‘petit’ Yniold,
who here enacts his Act IV scene with the boulder and shepherd as a
game with Mélisande (and where, in another tiny money-saving
solution that brings interpretative insight, it is left to the
prowling Golaud to utter the off-stage Shepherd’s single line
explaining darkly why the sheep have gone silent – a more ominous
portent). Otherwise, the Lulu connection is lightly played, with
lurking wild animal figures framing the action (Lulu
after all begins with the Animal Trainer and his menagerie, Pelléas
with Golaud out hunting an unspecified ‘beast’), leaving us to
make our own connections – and what an admirably ‘grown-up’ way
of a company embracing the loyalty and trust of its audience through
different seasons.
The
cage-like nature of Engels’s set proves apt as a metaphor of
Allemonde’s stifling sense of imprisonment, with the back of the
stage opening and closing on images of stars and sunsets – the
inaccessible world beyond the characters’ confines. Marie-Jeanne
Lecca’s magnificent costumes lend an air of
Pre-Raphaelite-meets-Belgian-art-nouveau decadence to the otherwise
spare and grim setting. Pountney’s direction of the characters is
as perceptive and illuminating as ever, with some elements that seem
to cut across the specifics of the libretto – the Rapunzel-like
tower scene, for example, where the physical separation of the lovers
suggests more a dream on Pelléas’s part than real interaction; and
others that interpret the text in new ways: at the very end, the
director takes’s Arkel’s words ‘she’s gone without a word’
literally, after Mélisande has got up from her deathbed, wound
herself in funeral shrouds and silently left the stage with the
servants. This is one of the most intensely moving scenes in all
opera and was made even more so in this staging, helped by the
equally beautiful and controlled playing of the WNO orchestra, here
as much as through the work as a whole. Indeed, Lothar Koenigs’s
partnership with his musicians drew playing that was as translucent
as it was sheerly beautiful, with a sense of pacing that made the
emotional climaxes all the more intense in their effect.
Jurgita Adomonytė (Mélisande) and Christopher Purves (Golaud) |
The
opera might as well have been entitled ‘Golaud’, such was
Christopher Purves’s command of every scene in which he appeared –
as ‘hunter’, jealous husband, callous half-brother or remorseful
widower: one of this superlative singer-actor’s most compelling
roles to date. As such it put Jacques Imbrailo’s youthful and
vocally ardent Pelléas a little in the shade: he was deliberately
portrayed as the cowed younger brother whose shyness and insecurity
are overcome by the allure of Mélisande. And the Lithuanian mezzo
Jurgita Adomonytė
inhabited her role in full, conveying an air of mystery at the same
time as a kind of almost knowing innocence as her character comes to
recognise her power. Hers is a rich but subtle vocal instrument,
nowhere more compelling than in her almost whispered ‘Je t’aime
aussi’, and she carried Debussy’s parlando lines with lyrical
ease. Scott Wilde was a wonderfully sonorous Arkel, Leah-Marian Jones
a sympathetic Geneviève, Rebecca Bottone a convincingly virile
Yniold and Stephen Wells (bewigged and bearded as if Debussy himself)
more than a mere cameo as the Doctor. If
I had paid more attention to my French at school, the surtitles would
have been superfluous, so clear was the diction all the singers.
Conductor Lothar Koenigs
Director David Pountney
Set Designer Johan Engels
Costume Designer Marie-Jeanne Lecca
Lighting Designer Mark Jonathan
Cast
Pelléas Jacques Imbrailo
Mélisande Jurgita Adomonyté
Golaud Christopher Purves
Genevieve Leah-Marian Jones
Arkel Scott Wilde
Yniold Rebecca Bottone
- See more at: http://www.wno.org.uk/event/pell%C3%A9as-and-m%C3%A9lisande#sthash.WF9I48SX.dpuf
Director David Pountney
Set Designer Johan Engels
Costume Designer Marie-Jeanne Lecca
Lighting Designer Mark Jonathan
Cast
Pelléas Jacques Imbrailo
Mélisande Jurgita Adomonyté
Golaud Christopher Purves
Genevieve Leah-Marian Jones
Arkel Scott Wilde
Yniold Rebecca Bottone
- See more at: http://www.wno.org.uk/event/pell%C3%A9as-and-m%C3%A9lisande#sthash.WF9I48SX.dpuf
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