Don Carlo - National Theatre Munich, 22 July 2010
A sound production, a spectacular cast, a few roast heretics for supper - this could have been the greatest Don Carlo ever. If only they'd rehearsed it. Following an airing in January, Jürgen Rose's ten year old production was revived for just two nights. Some critics complain that Munich's summer opera festival is not imaginative enough, that it doesn't have new productions coming out of its ears like Salzburg's does. But for out-of-towners like me, one of the main attractions is well-cast revivals of old favourites.
However when the most convincing actor on stage is Ramón Vargas, you know you've got problems. The singing was uniformly terrific, but the cast, to a (wo)man, looked as if they'd been shoved on stage and told to get on with it. It didn't help that the temperature outdoors was a muggy 80-plus degrees, and worse inside. In their heavy period costumes, sweat running down their faces, running around the stage was probably the last thing any of them wanted to do.
Vargas was simply the best Don Carlo I've ever heard live, effortlessly Italianate. When he finished he sounded fresh enough to sing another one. But like the rest of the cast, his acting consisted of recalling his allotted 'moves', albeit with an urgency that at least hinted at a passionate character. There was no chemistry with his Elisabeth (Olga Guryakova). So the focus was thrown almost totally on the religio-political element of the story, which is emphasised in Rose's sombre black box designs, a giant leaning crucifix dominating all scenes. That may work for the four act version. But in the five act version we saw, it made the opening act seem tacked-on when it should be an essential prelude to the thwarted love story about to unfold.
At last I got to see René Pape's King Philip. There's a curious familial resemblance to Vargas - if they weren't the same age you might actually believe the relationship. He sang beautifully, it goes almost without saying. But his bearing was too hesitant to suggest an all-powerful ruler, and he lacked that essential degree of world-weariness that Furlanetto brings to the role. Missing too was the contrast between the public face of absolute authority and the doubts expressed only in private: the opera in microcosm.
Thomas Hampson was a late substitute as Posa for Simon Keenlyside (no explanation proffered, but perhaps simply knackered out from his back-to-back Rigolettos for WNO earlier in the month). This is one thing I really like about Munich. Maybe it's just my luck, but when they have to make substitutes, they go straight to the top drawer.
You never get less than 100% with Hampson, and true to form he sang with great conviction and made a real (sadly one-sided) effort to connect with the rest of the cast. Emphasising Posa's duplicitous side, he came across as a less appealing but more interesting character than usual, and was clearly the audience favourite at the end.
Olga Guryakova (Elisabeth) and Nadia Krasteva (Eboli) sang powerfully and accurately. Krasteva's dark mezzo, or perhaps even contralto, is becoming a fascinating instrument now that she's getting the vibrato more under control. A less than ideal feeling for the text and the shape of the words made both performances a bit anonymous though. They were lucky to have the great singers' conductor Marco Armiliato in the pit. His reading fell short of dramatic grandeur, but he followed their arbitrary rits and rubato with pin-sharp precision.
And the oldest character on stage was played by the youngest. Christian Van Horn made an improbably youthful though elegantly sung Monk/Emperor.
