Heggie’s first opera Dead Man Walking is one of
the great operatic success stories of the current century. It
was given its première in San Francisco in 2000, and
since then has been performed in opera houses all over the world.
Twenty-eight performances in eleven years are listed on the
composer’s website, including productions in Dresden,
Vienna, Copenhagen, Sydney and Dublin. As such it has probably
made as much impact as Peter Grimes did in its first
decade, and more than any other full-scale opera has since.
That includes works like Nixon in China or Billy Budd,
which may now be said to have entered the standard repertory
but which took a longer period to do so. Dead Man Walking
now receives its second recording - Grimes had to wait
nearly fifteen years for its first - an earlier Erato release
deriving from the San Francisco première now being no
longer available although three extracts featuring Susan Graham
(the original Sister Helen) are still to be found as part of
a retrospective recital highlighting the singer’s achievements.
Now Patrick Summers, who conducted the San Francisco première,
returns to the score with Houston Grand Opera and gives us a
second reading of the score. He says in his booklet notes that
he thinks that his performance has matured over the years; and
the cast here also features two other performers who took part
in the original performances, in the shape of Frederica von
Stade, reprising her original role, and John Packard, switching
from the part of convicted criminal Joseph de Rocher to that
of the bereaved father Owen Hart.
We are immediately in familiar territory as the opera opens,
as the meandering string lines remind us of Pimen in Boris
Godunov chronicling the history of his times. The book by
Sister Helen Prejean on which the opera is based is likewise
based on real historical events, although some of the characters
are based on combinations of several different real people.
At times the vocal writing recalls Porgy and Bess - not
so surprisingly. There are also hints of Britten, including
a passage for the grieving mother which uncannily and rather
uncomfortably recalls Mrs Herring from Albert Herring.
What is far more important than these occasional echoes of earlier
composers is the sheer emotional sweep of the music, and the
manner in which Heggie - in his first opera! - manages to set
the English language with a total commitment to the text and
its subtle inflections.
The plot of the book - and the opera - is really very simple
and straightforward. Sister Helen corresponds with and then
meets a criminal sentenced to death for murder and attempted
rape. She comes to realise a degree of sympathy both with the
murderer and the families of his victims. At the same time the
criminal - the ‘dead man walking’ of the title -
comes to terms with his guilt for his crimes, so that when he
is finally executed he has achieved a degree of personal redemption.
The book is a heartfelt protest against the death penalty, but
at the same time does not shirk the brutal reality of the crimes
for which Joseph de Rocher is eventually executed. The balance
is achieved by a degree of religious consolation, which could
be mawkishly sentimental but comes across in the music as simply
and totally heartfelt. There is a large cast, some of them merely
spoken roles and some being totally silent. The CD booklet perversely
gives us the names of these inaudible participants. The booklet
does not help to distinguish individuals by not giving the voice
ranges of the various characters. Those given above come from
the Wikipedia article on the opera, with some minor adaptations
where the role has been differently cast from the San Francisco
première.
The main problem here is the lack of a text, although it is
possible to keep general track of the action from the cued synopsis
and a comprehensive track-listing. There is a different and
in some places more detailed synopsis available on Wikipedia.
The diction of the cast is generally as good as one might expect,
the men generally coming across better than the women although
the variable assumption of Louisiana accents sometimes obscures
individual lines. It is apparent from the audience reaction
that they are better able to appreciate the words than is possible
here; at one point when Sister Helen makes a joke in her colloquy
with the prison chaplain (she tells us immediately afterwards
“that was a joke”) one cannot make out what that
joke actually was, although the audience laughs - did they have
surtitles provided? The absence of a text also leaves one occasionally
mystified by some of the stage noises; exactly what is meant
to be happening at the end of the First Scene of Act Two, or
the beginning of the Fourth Scene of the same Act? The provided
synopsis is silent on the point, and Wikipedia gives no assistance
either. It is simply not good enough to assume that listeners
to a CD recording of an opera will be intimately familiar with
all the details of the stage action.
There is also a problem here with the recording. In a no doubt
laudable attempt to keep as much of the dialogue as possible
audible, the orchestra is very backwardly balanced and there
are times, as at the end of the First Act, when one can hear
that the orchestra is giving its all but one simply cannot hear
it in a realistic perspective. From the extracts that are still
available one can hear that the original San Francisco discs
were generally more forwardly recorded, and the balance gave
more orchestral detail.
The cast fielded in Houston is quite simply superb, certainly
matching that given to Heggie by San Francisco at the world
première. Joyce DiDonato is magnificent in the leading
role, quite a match for Susan Graham in the earlier recording.
It is not her fault that in some of the more lyrical passages
her words are inevitably masked - although I note that Hubert
Culot in his review
of the San Francisco recording observed that there the words
were clearly audible throughout. Philip Cutlip as the murderer
is also excellent; his words are generally clear, and he has
a somewhat lighter voice than John Packard who created the part
- heard here in a deeper role than at the première, and
very affectingly so in his aria of regret in the final Act.
Measha Brueggergosman soars in her high soprano lines, although
her words suffer worst from inaudibility. Frederica von Stade
was here making her final stage appearance after a career spanning
over forty years. She gives a heart-rending performance although
her voice is not what it once was, even making allowances for
her conscientious attempt to portray the emotions of the grief-stricken
mother of one of the victims. She rises with great fervour to
her final meeting with her son. One is grateful for the appearance
of such an eminent artist as Susanne Mentzer in a comparatively
small role, but truthfully there are no real weak links in the
cast and everybody concerned gives of their not inconsiderable
best. Members of the Houston Opera chorus are excellent in various
small roles.
There is another parallel with Peter Grimes which should
be noted. The central male characters in both operas meet their
deaths to an extended passage of musical silence, here punctuated
only by the sound of murderer’s heartbeat as he receives
a lethal injection. This is a very dangerous dramatic device,
but it works in both instances in a way that defies analysis
or criticism. More problematic in both cases is the attempts
that both composers make to ‘redeem’ their anti-heroes
in the preceding scene. Britten gives his protagonist a protracted
mad scene, but Heggie treads a more dangerous path as his murderer
finally confesses his guilt and seeks religious consolation.
This could potentially be sentimental, but he manages (just)
to skirt the dangers. The effect is overwhelming thanks to superlative
histrionic performances by DiDonato and Cutlip. The end really
is a bit too abrupt; one could do with a more extended orchestral
postlude to allow us to reflect on the message that the opera
is conveying. We would welcome the composer’s own voice
as part of that reflection.
Nonetheless this is a great opera, which everybody who is interested
in the future of the medium should investigate. It is quite
disgraceful that the Erato recording of the première
is no longer available. It is of overwhelming importance as
a historic document, quite apart from whatever other merits
it might possess but this Houston performance makes a more than
adequate substitute.
Paul Corfield Godfrey