An awful lot of
opera DVDs seem to be coming out of Zürich these days. Some
have come my way, and pretty good they’ve been on the whole.
I wonder if it’s the pull of Welser-Möst in the pit. He does
seem to have a loyal following, and I for one enjoyed the fruits
of his stay in England, more so than some.
The orchestral playing
is one of the stronger points in this Peter Grimes, which
is uneven in other respects. I must say I expected good things
when seeing David Pountney’s name as director, but the production
emerges with mixed honours.
Its biggest flaw,
and one which is mentioned in Eric Roseberry’s liner-note, is
the complete absence of the sea. By this I mean that the décor
and staging are very much interiorised and any feeling of the
elemental power of the sea, either by suggestion, lighting,
backdrops or whatever device, is completely ignored. I’m aware
of Britten’s famous comment - also mentioned in the booklet
- that the opera has ‘nothing to do with the sea’, meaning of
course that the themes of isolation, victimisation, run deep
within the piece. So the basic setting here is a series of ladders
and columns atop which sit the various members of the community,
a constant presence commenting on the action, akin to Greek
tragedy. Here Pountney’s production really scores, but the famous
interludes, as well as much of the text, tell us a lot about
how the sea is a constant factor in these people’s lives, its
beauty, its danger, how it shapes their whole lives. Indeed,
it becomes a metaphor for something much greater than us, perhaps
not quite Whitman-esque, but certainly ever-present. In this
staging, the costumes are the only hints that this is taking
place anywhere near the sea, and even they could be more accurate.
So it becomes a rather clean-cut, almost cerebral staging which,
for me, misses a whole dimension of this score. There is a feeling
of ritual at work, which has its moments and indeed is very
powerful in places, as in Sunday Morning, where instead of the
bustle of the village, we get a stylised processional among
the columns. But the Storm and Dawn are fatally lacking atmosphere,
which admittedly in other productions only comes from various
projection and lighting effects, but is preferable to what we
get here.
The singing is pretty
good on the whole, with a powerful Grimes from British tenor
Christopher Ventris. I last encountered him in Judith Weir’s
Blond Eckbert, and he is a commanding presence, characterising
sharply and singing with superb tone and accuracy.
American Emily Magee
is an affecting Ellen and their scenes together are as moving
as they ought to be. I’m less impressed with other principals,
who sing well but struggle with the English diction, mangling
some of the phrases to such a degree that I had to resort to
the subtitles.
The orchestral playing
really is superb and Welser-Möst shapes the score with precision
and feeling. Picture quality is up to the usual excellent standard
from this source, but the flimsy booklet is poor by any standards
and I’m not sure why it needed to stretch to two discs, particularly
as there are no extras.
I could only compare
this to the 1994 Arthaus ENO production conducted by David Atherton
and with Philip Langridge in the title role. Although slightly
updated and stylised by director Tim Albery, it has a dark intensity
that is altogether more gripping, to say nothing of the quality
casting right down to the smallest part. Whilst the sound and
picture are not as sharp as this newer source, it provides a much
more satisfying all-round experience and is probably a safer bet
for your DVD library, especially as it’s on one disc.
Tony Haywood