|
THE WANDERER'S CHRONICLE Lucerne Festival 2004 |
Second season of the Lucerne Festival Orchestra, slightly altered. Emmanuel Pahud, the Capucon brothers, Georg Faust have other engagements and have been replaced by for ex. Jacques Zoon, ex-solo flutist of the Concertgebouw, an exceptional artist, Franz Bartolomey, solo cellist of the Vienna Philharmonic, Henrik Schaefer, ex-assistant of Claudio Abbado and ex-violist of the Berlin Philharmonic (and who is now starting a promising career as a conductor himself, but who for a few weeks this summer took up his instrument again), two members of the Alban Berg Quartett, a few new faces amongst the Mahler Chamber Orchestra and two players from La Scala. But, basically, the orchestra has not really changed: same commitment, same enthusiasm, same perfection – the miracle took place once again. After last year’s astonishment we were very curious to hear this somewhat atypical phalanx again twelve months on: the sound, radically different from that of the Berlin Philharmonic (or even any other big orchestra) remains a miracle of homogenity and virtuosity with a particular soft spot for the wind and the brass, but also for the celli and the double bass who are just as incredible as last year. Everything should be mentioned: the commitment of Blacher, Westphal, Christ, the group spirit and the incredible artistic personality of every single one which can be felt in the exposed parts (once again: the winds, but also the harp or the horn!). Here is an orchestra composed of instrumentalists conscious of others, who listen to one another (and Abbado goes to great pains to point out to the musicians the necessity to listen to this or that instrument), but also made up of strong personalities which Abbado takes care to highlight either in solo passages of the programme or through the chamber music concerts. In one word: here once again was the love of “Zusammenmusizieren”, making music together, which is so dear to Claudio Abbado’s heart. The audience was stimulated by the programme of the first night: the Four Last Songs by Richard Strauss and the second act of Wagner’s Tristan und Isolde. Strauss’ Four Last Songs, composed in 1948, are always considered as a farewell to the world or a melancolic look on life gone by. This melancolic context, very lyrical, was performed impeccably by Renée Fleming (it was easy here to recognize the American schooling). The sounds were perfectly produced and entered into a very special dialogue with a sparkling orchestra, even if paradoxically this perfection did not always also mean greater emotion. Renée Fleming does not have a great voice like Karita Mattila (who recorded the Lieder with Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic), but she knows very well how to create a feeling of contemplation and concentration. Impossible to forget the sumptuous prelude to “Im Abendrot”, the incredible flexibility of the strings, the sound that fades away until it is no more than a breath. A great moment which shows not only a homogenous and technically perfect, but also an orchestra capable of adapting itself to every necessity as it is at the same time a “global” instrument and a group of individual characters. The moment most of us were waiting for was the second act of Tristan und Isolde. Presenting just one act of an opera as complex as Tristan is by no means an easy thing. But this 2nd act gathers around the central love duo between Tristan and Isolde sensuality, nature, death, disappointment and melancholy. Also it is the deliberate choice of Claudio Abbado, who managed right from the start in 1998/99 to present a near perfect interpretation, one which stunned even Daniel Barenboim (a specialist!), present at the Salzburg dress rehearsal. Many where those who would have preferred to hear the whole opera and feared (regretted?) the performance of act 2 only. In the context of Lucerne – and on the official opening night of a festival dedicated to instrumental music and not to opera – one can understand that all of Tristan und Isolde would have been somewhat beside the point. (Although Parsifal was given two years ago and Idomeneo last year and Fidelio this... but never as an opening performance.) On top of that nearly all the works performed during these first ten days had some connection with the themes treated in the 2nd act of Tristan: love and death, nature and life, night and day. The Strauss Lieder and Tristan do indeed have some common themes. Although much less popular these days performances of single acts is a thing well known in the history of concertgoing. Last but not least, the composition of this 2nd act is very much related to Wagner’s stay in Lucerne. So let us put an end to this and indulge in the music. It is stunning, everybody remarked upon it, how an orchestra of this size manages at the same time to produce such a fine sound, emanating from the most discreet of instruments, and at the same time sound so compact. The lyricism, the commitment, the enthusiasm of every single musician swept the audience along in a dizzy whirlwind of sounds. Wherever can you hear such a “Habet Acht” (Brangäne)? Where such tension in Marke’s monologue? Where such a vibration in the orchestra during the duo? More than ever the orchestra told us what the singers (let’s face it) were unable to do so. The performance was said to be “semi-staged” but to be honest there was just a big empty space and some bit of lighting so as to create the necessary atmosphere. Never Tristan (sung by John Treleaven, taking over from Robert Gambill, who was ill) and hardly ever Isolde (Violeta Urmana) managed to sing with that inner flame which Claudio Abbado kindled in the orchestra. They were non-existant, stiff, distant actors, occupied more with the heat in the hall (Isolde) or with the position of his feet (Tristan) than with the necessity to open up so as to live up to the occasion. And yet – John Treleaven is no bad singer. His production is clear, the notes are all there, often well held, but the singing is not expressive, the voice of an average quality. As for the character, it is neglected - to say the least. As for Violeta Urmana, the star of the evening, she is sometimes (as an Italian critic wrote) imperial. On that evening she showed no emotion: the icy, metallic Nilsson voice left us with quite a different impression, same with Caterina Ligendza or Waltraud Meier or even Deborah Polaski! Admittedly the role is overwhelming, the part tense, the conditions not ideal – but the voice always seemed to be below the abilities of this artist, who somehow appeared to be absent. Mihoko Fujimura’s Brangäne on the contrary was trembling with emotion and all the tension was visible on her face. She did her utmost to make the character come to life. We will remember that distant voice (one of the most beautiful these days and which triumphed in Bayreuth as Fricka and Waltraute) and which gave to the “Habet Acht” the impression of being very present but at the same time also very far away and in perfect osmosis with the orchestra. Good performance too by Ralf Lukas as Melot. And then Marke arrived... And everything changed. We found ourselves confrontated with one of the greatest Marke of the past years. Here was a really imperial voice, one which filled the hall effortlessly, one which created a tension with every word he sang, where the text was more sculptered than sung, where each syllable was given its own shade and where an extreme attention was paid to everything that happened in the orchestra. It was a miracle of compassion and intelligence, which gendered an unbearable emotion, discernable also to the orchestra. He was THE character who brought us back the magic of the theatre. At last the shiver went down our spine, the one which distinguishes a good evening from a great one. The surprise came where nobody was expecting it: René Pape has long been considered a good singer. But in 15 minutes of pure song he became an exceptional artist. During a normal evening, in a normal theatre, with a normal orchestra and conductor we would surely have gone home very disappointed by the performance of the two main characters. Swept along by a unique orchestra and accompanied by exceptional colleagues they too made us happy, touched us and held us spellbound. Particularly at the end when the unbearable tension created by the conductor remained hanging in the air and darkness fell brutally on the hall. Unforgettable.
|
|