Music Direction Daniele Rustioni* Producer Lina Wertmüller Carmen Aigul Akhmetshina Don José Stephen Costello Escamillo Erwin Schrott Micaëla Vuvu Mpofu | 30.09.2023
*The conductor was replaced by someone else whose name I didn't catch. He was flown in from London overnight to Munich to conduct this run.
Wertmüller's staging of Carmen was traditional and fuss-free. The first act opened with a scene at a town centre in Seville; the second act was at Lillas Pastia's tavern; the third act was set in a dark hideout with rocky mountains as the backdrop; and the last act was in Seville again with a prop depicting an amphitheatre.
There was one quick scene transition done very cleverly in the first act. When José escorted Carmen to the prison, the once brightly-lit town centre went dark. The stage light then subtly projected an illusion of prison bars, effectively shifting the Seguidilla duet into a captivating scene.
That was, however, the only time where the staging truly contributed to the narrative, giving something to write home about. Although the sets and the changing lighting hues were objectively beautiful at first, they gradually lost their charm over time. Therefore, much of the success of this production was at the hand of its performers and they certainly did not dissapoint.
Akhmetshina, who made Carmen her debut role at the Bavarian State Opera, sang the role with total conviction. Her melliflous mezzo and playfully seductive stage presence brought Carmen into a riveting character. My favourite moment of her Carmen was her rendition of Les tringles des sistres tintaient, especially when she ended up singing and dancing a little flamenco on the table. It was such a fun number that you wished would never end.
Her José was sung by Costello and it was a presentation of quality singing and acting. His Flower Song blossomed as he confessed his feelings for Carmen. The Don José character is never supposed to be a likable man, and Costello succeeded in interpreting the character as a genuine walking red flag for the women around him.
Schrott gave an impressive performance as Escamillo. He might be the most senior singer among this cast, but his voice still sounded fresh and vigourous. From his mannerism to his gait, he had the character down pat.
Overall, I was simply pleased that all the principal singers and the rest of the cast, including Mpofu as Micaëla, were in their prime condition that evening. They might have taken a while to warm up, but by the time of their respective big arias, everyone delivered.
The audience's reaction was somewhat more subdued compared to the Don Carlo performance I attended back in July. Perhaps they, like me, were expecting more from the production? Who knew.
Francesco Pio Galasso, Gemma Coma-Alabert, Sondra Radvanovsky, Luca Salsi, Fabian Lara i Erwin Schrott. Foto de David Ruano, gentilesa del Departament de Premsa del Gran Teatre del Liceu.
És o era l’aposta del teatre per aquesta temporada 2022-2023, la nova producció que es pretén llogar arreu per amortitzar el cost que s’han hagut de pagar per quatre caps, un ciclorama, un grapat de llances i…
When I’m talking about Demon!Mistoffelees, I hope you all know I’m talking, like, Erwin Schrott playing Mephistopheles, “ostensibly insouciant and yet the malevolence beneath the surface was always apparent”; Samuel Ramey popping balloons and smoking on stage mid aria for the dramaTM; “Omniscient am I not; yet much is known to me."; “In the end, you are exactly--what you are. Put on a wig with a million curls, put the highest heeled boots on your feet, yet you remain in the end just what you are.”
Si gira a Torino il musical 'The Opera!' con Vincent Cassel
(ANSA) – TORINO, 03 LUG – Sono iniziate a Torino e
termineranno l’1 agosto le riprese del film ‘The Opera!’,
opera-musical diretta, scritta e sceneggiata da Davide Livermore
e Paolo Gep Cucco, con un cast internazionale composto, tra gli
altri, da Valentino Buzza, Mariam Battistelli, Vincent Cassel,
Erwin Schrott, con la partecipazione di Caterina Murino, Fanny
Ardant, Rossy De Palma. The Opera!…
Haven't posted any ficbits in a while and it's Monday, so here, have a little of a Gounod Faust fic I chip away at every so often. It's set right after the end of either Act 2 or Act 3, depending on which version you're using, and Mephistopheles has some time to kill while The Heterosexuals Are At It Again.
I'm totally picturing this as set in the McVicar/ROH production, by the way, which is set in Second Empire France so that's why they have cigarettes.
--
"Stay away from me," Siébel says, holding up his fingers—he'd dipped them in the holy water font earlier this evening; maybe that will help ward him off, or at least ward off any other spells he tries to cast. "I don't have dealings with sorcerers."
The man's laughter in response is utterly without mirth, and does not reach his eyes. The sound of it makes Siébel's skin crawl.
"I assure you, dear boy, I am no sorcerer," the man says. He smiles, apologetic but equally without mirth. "I'm afraid we've started off on the wrong foot."
"You put a curse on me!" It sounds silly, now that he's said it aloud, and yet he knows it's true.
The man makes a clicking noise with his tongue and shakes his head, smirking indulgently. "Only a bit of fun," he says. "Anything would wilt, in this weather. A boy your age ought not to be so superstitious."
Siébel feels the corners of his mouth turn down. He's never been what anyone would call superstitious, usually, at any age. It isn't even as if this man is exactly wrong about the weather, or about the delicacy of flowers. But there's something about his presence that gives Siébel a prickly feeling and a metallic taste in the back of his throat. He should run away, he feels, or at least say something suitably defiant, but before he can do either of these things, the man produces a silver cigarette case from inside his jacket, withdrawing two cigarettes and holding one out to Siébel, eyebrows raised in a silent offer.
"No, thank you," Siébel says, already resolved not to accept anything from this man. The curse, petty as it was, had been bad enough.
The man smiles grimly as he returns one of the cigarettes to its case. "Filthy habit, anyway," he says, raising the other cigarette to his lips. The glow from its burning end illuminates the lid of the cigarette case, where engraved figures dance around a golden calf—in the faint red flicker of the flame they seem to be moving indeed, and Siébel shudders. He realizes he hasn't seen the man light a match.
me: *finds out there was a production of Faust directed by Bartlett Sher with Charles Castronovo, Sonya Yoncheva, Erwin Schrott, Jacques Imbrailo, and Angela Brower in the principal roles*