It's 11.30 - and thus ends one of the most awesome cinematic experiences of my life- ever. And that is by no means an exaggeration. I've just got back from the Met's live broadcast of Richard Eyre's production of "Carmen", and too emotionally drained to write about anything else, I figured I might as well write about this :)
Bizet's masterpiece, Carmen, is amazing. I'm going to go out on a limb here and say it's one of the most appealing operas ever written. That doesn't mean the best necessarily; but you could go to Carmen at any point in your life, on any day, at any time - and get lost in the drama. I was discussing this with my friend Anna as we were sitting amongst our white haired counterparts, and we settled on the fact that it works so well because you have the marriage of a stunning score and gripping plot. This may seem pretty obvious, but if you look at some other opera's that are less 'easy' to listen to then you'll see what I mean. Der Rosenkavalier, for instance, is stunning because of the music - the plot line is a little bit wacky, and it's generally believed that you have a better understanding of it later in life. Eugene Onegin, my favorite opera of all time, is a tale of very frustrating non events. In Carmen however you've got music, intrigue, seduction, love, lust, deception, betrayal, murder...and apparently comedy.
I can safely say that everyone in the theatre fell in love with Elina Garanca over the course of the opera. I wouldn't be surprised if every man and woman in that theatre was seduced by her intelligent, sultry, and witty interpretation of a role
so open to cliche. I was eavesdropping a bit in the theatre, and most people confirmed my belief that she's such a convincing and natural actress that it's hard to believe she's doing all that whilst singing with such technical security (and sometimes dancing as well!). The amount of comedy that she brought to the table, be it by teasing the officers or doing bizarre bugle impressions, gives the Carmen that we all know so well, a realistic and 3 dimensional edge. And who knew eating an orange could be so seductive? But what she really pulled off, was the element of spiritual freedom (with which she tempts José in the second act) as well as a perfect dose of nonchalance; she was like a sly cat playing with the poor little mice before eating them. This made the whole journey of the character, and her swapping from man to man, much more believable. This is just perfectly demonstrated after poor Don José pours his heart out to her, in a '
bravo!' worthy rendition of 'La fleur que tu m'avais jetée'. She keeps her facial expression the same throughout, only to blow away the dried leaves of the flower which José holds out to her. It got quite a laugh from the obviously sadistic opera fans.
And I haven't even started on her voice! But it won't take long. It's just amazing :) The richness and depth has certainly developed even since the autumn run at the ROH. 'En vain pour éviter les réponses ameres' was even more moving second time round, because of the intensity and resonance of the lower register. And of course, she more than pulled off the old war-horses with a combination of the heart-stopping voice and, surprise, surprise - doing away with all cliché.
Roberto Alagna, reprising his famous Don José, was the perfect puppy-dog come pit-bull. I heard on the opera grapevine that he had a cold prior to this performance, but you wouldn't tell thanks to that impeccable voice, with some really stunning pianissimi. Hats off as well, to stand in Baritone, Teddy Rhodes, who must have been really wetting himself, having only got the call 3 hours before curtain up. He greatly surpassed Ildebrando d'Archangelo in the ROH production, bringing a brilliant mix of testosterone and a surprise hint of modesty to the role. I was also pleasantly surprised with Barbra Frittoli's Michaela, whom I always feel is a bit wet and no competition for Carmen whatsoever. However, Frittoli's colour is much darker than what the role usually demands, adding to an already stoical interpretation of what is essentially a meek character. The level of singing was so high, that the cast generally achieved what, paradoxically, every singer sets out to achieve; to make the audience forget they are singing.
Richard Eyre challenged so much of the stereotypical elements of Carmen with a stunning set, and all-round intelligent interpretation. I feel like I've seen a completely different opera to my ROH experience. First time, I felt that the love between Michaela and José was a one way street, with poor, annoying Michaela's love unrequited. This time, the clear passion, feeling and understanding between the two characters gave the whole turn of events not necessarily a different meaning, but certainly highlighted Don José's changing character and motives. I was also greatly touched by Carmen's declaration of love to Escamillo in the final scene, feeling that instead of it being Carmen at her old tricks again, this time she really meant it. Which of course makes her untimely murder all the more tragic.
Never have I seen such an intense final scene in opera. The murder of a mezzo soprano is so much more exciting than the slightly random death of the consumption riddled sopranos...yes I mean you Violetta/Thais/Mimi/Manon. But in this scene, I thought I was having a minor heart attack, my heart was racing that much. I know the story, I could hum 'C'est Toi...C'est Moi' to you right now; but the connection between the two protagonists was just unreal. That is, unreal in the sense that it was hard to believe such a 'real' connection could be achieved on stage. I felt I was witness to real events unfolding before my very eyes. My friend, and opera companion, Anna, was in a fierce battle of wills, knowing that Carmen is murdered in the end, but still holding out that every time José lets her go, he might not try again. This production didn't need black stallions, donkeys and chickens, as in Francesca Zambello's rustic staging - it was the chemistry between the characters which electrified the audiences.
And to top it off, who should be presenting the HD broadcast but the Met's very own darling, Renée Fleming; who, as always, added to the experience with some wonderfully insightful questioning of the cast, conductor and choreographer.
All in All? Without doubt 11/10
