Andrea Chénier at Vienna State Opera

csm_01_Andrea_Chenier_115349_KUNDE_fc9a7d724aUmberto Giordano’s opera is the story of the great French Revolutionary poet Andre Chénier: told in four Acts (tableaux), it is also a history of the French Revolution itself. From the pre-revolutionary Coigny palace, where Chénier meets the aristocrat Madeleine (Maddalena) curious to meet the poet; and where the life-long servant Gérard , inspired by Chénier’s advocacy of ‘revolutionary’ ideals, resigns in protest, to join the fight for liberty. Yet the opera, through these opposing idealists, Chénier and Gérard, shows how, from the ideals of 1889, the French Revolution degenerated into a Reign of Terror.
Yet, above all the history, Andrea Chénier is a great Romantic opera in the 19th century Italian tradition. It is a love story between Chénier and Maddalena, enduring through the Revolutionary terror, Maddalena, disguised in Paris, Chénier betrayed by his political enemies. And the unrequited love of Gérard, from the infatuated servant, to jealous revolutionary leader.
The success of the opera’s performance pivots on these three. In this Vienna State Opera love triangle, a weaker Chénier (Gregory Kunde), is supported by the powerful, passionate soprano Tatiana Serjan, and a strong baritone in Luca Salsi’s Gérard.
But this is historical spectacle, with a plethora of supporting roles: including Virginie Verrez, Bersi, Maddalena’s servant, who has to prostitute herself, Boaz Daniel (Roucher), Chénier’s friend who advises him to escape. And Zoryana Kushpler’s heart-rending Madelon, the old lady (who offers her grandson for conscription.) Librettist Illica’s well-drawn characters have a theatrical depth.
Vienna State Opera Orchestra, under a French conductor, Frederic Chaslin, justified Giordano’s realist masterpiece, probably on a par with Puccini, in its complex orchestral orchestral detail, and Verdi in its soliloquy-like arias.
The performance was the 113th using Otto Schenk’s now classic production. Vienna is right to maintain these wonderfully detailed historical sets and costumes: from the lavish finery of Coigny’s soiree, the elegantly furnished palace in the final throes of the ancien regime; the square in front of the Cafe Hotte (where a police informer is trying to trap Bersi); and, Act 3, the Committee of Public Safety’s court room with its blood-thirsty spectators.

csm_03_Andrea_Chenier_115358_SALSI_e616da7d99 The opening scene is the Comtesse Coigny’s palace- Schenk’s exquisitely painted sets- preparing for a rococo entertainment. But beneath the refinement, revolution is fermenting. We hear, almost immediately, an angry outburst form Gérard, (head butler, his father, a gardener, serf for fifty years.) Luca Salsi is impassioned in his aria, expressing his hatred of this gilded, artificial world. Your fate is sealed!
Meanwhile, the Comtesse (Lydia Rathkob) tells off her daughter, not yet dressed. Maddalena (Serjan) complains to her maid Bersi, how she hates her hideous petticoats; as if these artificial clothes, symbolising this way of life, are stifling her. Then we overhear the Abbé in conversation, talking about the revolution- supposed to be imminent – but nobody takes it seriously. The Comptesse asks the young poet Chénier (Kunde) to recite his poetry. He refuses; but Maddalana, who’s bet she’ll change his mind, annoys Chénier, expecting him to sing about love.
Kunde’s Chénier, a dour figure in black coat, is roaming in the background. Forgive my speaking up; I am a woman! She sings, Poetry is as capricious as love. He takes offence. His love is for his country. ‘I love you, divine beautiful fatherland,’ Then, in a tirade against the ancien regime (old order), a priest is happy to accept gifts, but deaf to an old woman begging for bread. And what does a nobleman do in the face of such pain and suffering? Beautiful woman, do not scorn a poet’s words: you know nothing of love, don’t deride it. (Beautifully sung by Kunde’s lyrical tenor, but the applause seemed inappropriate.) She asks his forgiveness. Chénier has caused a scandal. But Gérard listens in awe. He leads a crowd of peasants into the salon. The voice of suffering is calling him! He rips off his uniformed jacket- symbol of humiliation- and accuses the Comptesse of holding the celebration at the expense of the poor. He’s dismissed, and storms out. But, in the pastoral entertainment, the ladies sing in celestial harmony: ‘By tomorrow, they shall be far away.’ They resume dancing the gavotte the intruders interrupted.
The next tableau, Schenk’s atmospheric recreation of a Paris public square. The Revolution has degenerated into (Robespierre’s) reign of terror. Gérard has been promoted to the Chamber of Deputies. Yet, Chénier who had extolled the revolution, is now suspected as a counter-revolutionary, and under surveillance. Chénier meets his friend Roucher (Boaz Daniel) who tries to persuade him to leave Paris. Kunde sings in a moving aria of a mysterious power that guides him through life: a power that says to him, You shall be a poet. The name of my destiny is love! Believe in love, Chénier! Kunde’s tenor, powerful, but not incandescent.
He tells Roucher, he’s been receiving letters from an anonymous woman- elegant notepaper, rose-scented. Take the passport and forget the merveilleuse.
Bersi begs him to wait ‘for a woman in great danger’ They’re overheard by an informer (incroyable) hired by Gérard.
csm_02_Andrea_Chenier_115370_SERJAN_75d0c6b08eAs Maddalena – alone, afraid disguised, before the altar- Serjan is in tremendous voice. Then, Chénier, Was it she who wrote the letter; recognises her, she he’d once rebuked, ‘You know nothing of love’? Serjan, her heart told her he would protect her, even the man she had affronted. You are my last hope. Their duet is ‘a marvelous moment of bliss.’ She’s washed away his last vestige of cowardice. We shall stay together even until death,they sing. Magnificent.
The Committee of Public Safety – long table, elegant chairs- the people surrounding the court sectioned off. Gérard, in a fiery speech calls on the people to make sacrifices: France is besieged. The old,blind Madelon, led on by her grandson, sings of her family’s tragedies. But she offers the young boy. Take him: he’ll fight and die. Kushpler’s aria is powerfully rendered in this most poignant vignette.
Chénier has been arrested; Gérard is expected to sign the charge. Which brings Gérard to a crisis of conscience. In Nemico della Patria Why does he hesitate: Chénier’s already listed, an enemy of the State. An old tale. A poet? He corrupts people’s minds. But Salsi, in Gérard’s aria, reflects how once he was immune to hate. Now he is still a servant. Gérard’s aria shifts to Maddalena. He sings of his life’s passion: his obsession from childhood, he uniformed and silent. She had driven him mad. He wanted to bury his hands in her blonde hair.
Maddalena turns up to plead for Chénier.( Maddalena’s aria is compared with Tosca’s Vissi d’arte. But, 1894, when Chénier originated, Tosca hadn’t been composed.) In Maddalena’s aria La mama morte Serjan sings with blistering intensity. They murdered her mother outside her room, who died to save her; saw her childhood home in flames. But love spoke to her: ‘Go on living: I am life!’ Serjan is overawed with feeling. Enormous applause. My body is that of a dying witch, Go take it! She’s no more than a corpse. Gérard, confounded, deeply impressed, will fight for Chénier.

In the trial, before the tribunal- ‘traitors’ taunted, derided as aristocrats- Chénier defends himself: as a poet, he used his pen in praise of his country. (His life is passing by, he will die soon, he muses.) Gerard admits his charge was a lie: Chénier deserves a laurel, not death. Kunde very good, somehow lacks that heroic stature.
In the prison of St.Lazarre, Chénier composes his last poem. He sings it to Roucher: a hymn to poetry, ‘kissed by a verse.’ So be it, sublime goddess! His last breath will finish in rhyme.
Maddalena will take Legray’s place to die by Chénier’s side. She welcomes destiny. O Maddalena, you make death seem noble, he sings. His soul is calm in her presence. In Chénier’s romance Come un bel di di maggio, before his execution, (reminiscent of Cavaradossi’s Tosca aria E lucivan ), Kunde doesn’t quite have that exceptional power. But Serjan, come to join him, has it. Hold me! Love me! Eternity! The orchestral playing, Vienna State Opera’s forces under Chaslin, was sublime. © PR. 2019
Photos: Gregory Kunde (Andrea Chénier); Luca Salsi (Gérard); Tatiana Serjan (Maddalena di Coigny)
© Wiener Staatsoper/ Michael Pöhn

Bernstein’s Wonderful Town

wonderful-town_18x24_RGB_1 Vienna Volksoper can boast the European premier of Wonderful Town: in November 1956 Leonard Bernstein’s second musical staged here only three years after its world premier. Yet, until 1955, Vienna was occupied by the Allies and Soviet Russia: Austria newly independent, neutral between the West and the Soviet block (its neighbours Hungary and Czechoslovakia only liberated in 1989/90.) Post-war Vienna was grim and austere, the world of Harry Lime and The Third Man. So imagine the shock: Bernstein’s jazz-influenced score, the views of New York, and of its beat generation – transported to this dystopa, by the super-cool, hipster, Bernstein, in white polo necks, notorious for disdaining collar and tie. Bernstein took to-and was adopted by – Vienna. (In the 1970s he regularly conducted the Vienna Philharmonic, famously persuading them to play Mahler.) So, to commemorate his 100th, it’s fitting that Volksoper should revive Wonderful Town – celebrating not Vienna, but his own New York.
Against a New York skyline, Volksoper orchestra (under James Holmes) conducted the overture sounding like a jazz big band with pizzazz: oh, those silky saxophones,and muted trumpets, Woody Allen (Manhattan) would have loved it. A group of tourists file through the stalls led by their guide (Oliver Liebl)- cleverly, they’re German-speaking. The place is Greenwich Village, the beat quarter, from the 1940s, home to poets, painters and jazz clubs. And Christopher Street- if Bernstein had known (in 1953)- a gay quarter, fifteen years later, the centre of Gay Liberation.
The choreography (Melissa King’s) for the opening number is stunning. They’re all in brilliantly coloured 1950’s gear. Come along, follow me… There’s a REAL jazz musician, a black guy in a pink candy-striped suit, Speedy Valenti (Cedric Lee Bradley), who runs the Village Vortex.
Ruth Sherwood (Sarah Shütz), red-haired, in a tailored suit, the serious one of the sisters, is carrying a heavy typewriter. As Eileen, the would-be actress, Olivia Delauré’s vivacious platinum, blonde, in a frilly, patterned frock, is like a starlet popped off a Hollywood film set.
The multiple screens of New York views (Mathias Fischer-Dieskau) open onto a grotty basement flat- below the sidewalk- with pink brick walls, faded settee, peoples’ legs seen walking through the skylight overhead. The room costs 100 dollars upfront; the long-haired Greek painter and landlord (Christian Dolezal) disappears as the room shudders like an earthquake: the overhead subway. With no curtains, the streetlight keeps them awake, the sisters sharing the bed, ogled by men above, (the apartment’s last occupant a sex-worker.)
They sing of their home in Ohio- one of Bernstein’s stand-out numbers- ‘Much too far away from you, Ohio’, home sick already. But, ever-hopeful, up early, they’re out job hunting.
To funky jazz piano, and percussion, we see commuters crushed together on the subway, a human phalanx. One of Bernstein’s sensational up-beat, jazz syncopated numbers, the crowd scene prefiguring the street-life of West Side Story. It bursts into a dance sequence, jaw-dropping, with Vienna State Ballet dancers joining the Volksoper Chorus. Fabulous jazz trumpet! What a beat! … “The excitement! Political awareness . Wonderful fashions. And the songs! What a beat”, they wrote. This is what hit Broadway in 1953.
2018_11_26_KHP1_wonderful_town_BP_(450)_ret In Matthias Davids’ direction, a fast-moving montage with the sisters each trying for job interviews, Eileen fights off the (Me-Too) director on the casting couch, while Ruth, the aspiring writer, is forever fobbed-off with her script. Finally, she sees Editor Robert Baker (Drew Sarich, a star in his own right.) He quickly dismisses her text- Go back home! Ruth’s cue for ‘A hundred ways to love a man.’ It’s wry and witty (even in German), and Sarah Schütz, a gutsy mezzo -soprano, has loads of charisma , an actress and chanteuse: musical performer, cabaret artiste, dancer. The story she’s written is a lead-in for a safari dance sketch, with lions roaring around the theatre through the theatre’s sound system.
Of a motley crew of Greenwich village eccentrics, ‘the wreck’, Loomis, is a would-be football player: Marcus Günzel, lanky, forever in shorts, and tailed by his fiancee, the diminutive, exquisitely sung Juliette Khalil. Günzel’s Loomis sings the show-stopping refrain, ‘I was good at football, (not a schoolwork.)’ Eileen invites her male suitors, including Chick Clark (Christian Graff) for supper, and phones Bob for Ruth. They’re all cramped together awkwardly on that couch.
‘You have talent, Miss Sherwood, but write about what you know’ (not safari parks.) He wants to help her, but she thinks she’s being brushed off. Why does he always go for that type, he sings, the quiet girl. Where is my quiet girl, the special girl. Drew Sarich holds the stage, exuding a masterful authority, the audience spellbound.
Then, by contrast, a sensational conga number. Ruth is commissioned to report on Brazilian sea cadets! Any excuse for young sailors in tight white uniforms and the show’s wildest dance routine. They follow Ruth out on the streets, she, eventually leading them to the apartment. 2018_11_29_KHP2_wonderful_town_BP_(635)_RET Schütz- teasing, vibrant, a match for these professional Latin dancers, is finally tossed up and carried shoulder high.
Eileen, now hooked-up with Graff’s policeman, has an entire police station in love with her. Darling Eileen, they toast her in chorus. Meanwhile, Ruth, we see, street-selling for the Village Vortex (a play on the jazz club Village Vanguard.) Schütz excels in the star number SWING IT! Finger-clicking good, scat, jazz-inspired dancing, cool like in the 1940s and 50s when the word was coined. Great, up-tempo ensemble dancing, perhaps a forerunner for the Jets’ anthem in West Side Story. This is the musical soundtrack for the beat age.
Bob, it seems, has left ‘Manhattan Magazine.’ He sings a soliloquy In Love (Verliebt). He’s in love, can hardly think: he feels like another man. In love! This made my evening, the star number, the tune that stays in your head long after you leave: as in all the best musicals.
Then, the finale, VILLAGE VORTEX, a louche, erotic dance sequence. It begins with young men’s bodies laid out on stage. The opening, to a wailing clarinet, igniting into a ballet in a dance club, the Village Vortex come alive. The two sisters take the stage in a spectacular dance routine, while Lee Bradley, the black owner, reigns supreme, jiving on the roof of his Vortex. Finally, Bob cuddles up to Ruth, rather to her surprise. It’s a wonderful town, they sing.
This is a five star production of a relatively neglected Bernstein musical. But I can’t give it full marks. Not because it’s in German – that’s Volksoper’s policy – but because there were no English subtitles. (Frankly, there’s a lot of dialogue, and it would need more than voice coaches to translate New York humour.) This wonderful production is too good not to share with an international audience! © P.R. 7.1.2019
Photos: Olivia Delauré (Eileen) and Sarah Schütz (Ruth) © Stephan Floss
Drew Sarich (Robert Baker), Sarah Schütz (Eileen); Sarah Schütz (Eileen) with Vienna State Ballet dancers; Featured image Olivia Delauré, Sarah Schütz, Cedric Lee Bradley © Barbara Pállfy/ Volksoper Wien