Opera Review: Guillaume Tell - Welsh National Opera at Wales Millennium Centre (UK Tour) ✭✭✭✭
GUILLAUME TELL
WELSH NATIONAL OPERA at
WMC
Review by Sebastian Petit
4th October 2014: Performances
of Rossini’s massive, astonishingly prescient swan song used to be as rare as
hen’s teeth. The last full scale London showing was in 1990 in a terrifyingly
old fashioned (even then) production. The sticking point in mounting the piece
was always casting the insanely difficult tenor role of Arnold. Written for
Adolphe Nourrit, the role is not only huge but is peppered with b flats, b
naturals, top Cs and even a sustained C sharp. The role was considered almost
uncastable except with huge numbers of disfiguring cuts. Pavarotti recorded the
complete role in Italian but, wise man, always refused to attempt the role
onstage. Now, however, with the rich availability of tenors who can tackle the
role without fear, we are suddenly assailed by stagings of Tell from all sides.
In the last year and a half there have been stagings in Pesaro, Turin, Munich
with another to come this season at the Royal Opera House. That production will
be conducted by Antonio Pappano utilising a similar cast to the recent concert
performances but, hopefully, avoiding some of the brutal cuts (most
particularly the sublime trio for the three main female voices). Welsh National
Opera retains that section and the overture in its entirety but, inevitably
given the restrictions of touring, has cut considerably in other areas. That
said, this is a strong performing edition and one that played to the strengths
of the company and principals.
David Pountney’s production trod an uneven path between perceptive and
often revelatory direction of the principals (the contrast between the tight,
loving family unit of the Tells and the dysfunctional, borderline abusive Melcthal/Arnold relationship was particularly well defined) with a technical
presentation which often strayed close to incompetent. I yield to none in my
appreciation of Caspar David Friedrich’s paintings but it was hard to understand
the relevance of his grandly austere Polar
Sea to the Swiss countryside especially in a work that so often mentions
the abundant beauty of the latter. The monochrome version of painting was
etched onto three massive perspex screens that, through lighting, could appear
either opaque or translucent. Unfortunately this aspect was handled so poorly
that one was often embarrassingly aware of singers prior to entry and, even
worse, stagehands waiting to perform various technical tasks. The low point was
the completely visible silhouette of the Health & Safety monitor throughout
the entirety of the second Mathilde/Arnold scene while he patiently waited to
unhook the soprano’s safety line! Possibly Poutney was trying to make some
point regarding the artificiality of theatre but, if so, it fell painfully
flat.
Rightly,
for a work conceived to take advantage of the full forces of Parisian Opera,
there was a strong element of dance throughout the production. This involved
many striking images and wildly frenetic choreography (performed with
unstinting force by six very hardworking dancers) but the repeated codified
movements remained mysterious to me and, I suspect, most of the audience.
Fortunately
the musical side of proceedings was a good deal more satisfactory: Carlo Rizzi, while not quite attaining
the white-heat excitement that Pappano achieved with his Santa Cecilia forces,
drew exceptional playing from the WNO orchestra with Rosie Biss’ onstage cello solos a particular highlight. The
marvellous WNO chorus, though underused dramatically by Poutney, thrillingly
encompassed the complex demands of the score.
As
already noted any performance of Tell stands or falls on the casting of the
principal tenor role and here WNO hit the jackpot. Barry Banks fearlessly sailed through the inordinate demands of the
role crowning his portrayal with a superlative “Asile héréditaire” and a
spiffing cabaletta with a final sustained top C bringing the house down. He
also coped manfully with a costume which seemed to determined to place him as
Edward VIII.
Gisela Stille projected the dignity and determination of Mathilde,
a woman placed in an almost impossible personal and political situation, and
her crystalline soprano was well suited to the role. “Sombre fôret” was a
moment of sublime calm amongst the dramatic fury but her long solo sections in
the second Mathilde/Arnold scene were, if anything, even finer.
David Kempster was an appropriately heroic sounding Tell and his big
“Reste immobil” aria was beautifully and very movingly phrased. I would have
liked a touch more dark cut to the voice in some of the declamatory sections
but this was a strong central performance. His son, Jemmy, is a gift of a role
and Fflur Wyn seized on all the
opportunities offered. Her gorgeous, pure soprano soared like a light in the
darkness over the many male dominated scenes. Tell’s wife, Eduige, was
luxuriously cast in Leah-Marian Jones
who led off the last act female trio in a moment of still beauty.
It
was a pleasure to see Richard Wiegold
(of whom we do not see nearly enough of in London) in not one, but two roles.
He was finely defiant as Melcthal (despite a costume that had distinct
overtones of Mr. Bumble) and the character’s early demise at the hands of Nicky Spence’s sleazily villainous
Rodolphe allowed Wiegold to reappear in Act II as a dignified Walter Furst. His
portrayals were so well differentiated that only his extremely characteristic
bass tones gave the game away. The other significant bass role is that of the
villainous Austrian Governor, Gesler. Unfortunately Clive Bayley, despite possessing a near ideal voice for the role,
was asked to play the role as an armour clad, insanely cackling Dr Evil. Only
the white fluffy cat was absent from the picture. This miscalculation was
doubly frustrating as we know, from previous experience, how good Bayley is a
portraying true, scary evil - his terrifying Bluebeard and Claggart are just
two examples of what this fine singer is capable of.
Overall
then, a musical triumph. If only the production had been better realised.
4* ✭✭✭✭
