For one of the most popular of operas, live or on disc, Carmen
is surprisingly difficult to bring off successfully. Getting
the tone and atmosphere right, with singing and playing that
meet Bizet’s very varied demands is a test that is met
only rarely. What that tone and atmosphere should be is itself
not easily determined. Parts, especially the end, approach the
full-out drama of what became verismo, but much of the
opera is more closely related to an earlier French tradition
deriving from the works of Boieldieu and Auber. A good performance
needs to be able to characterise these and other aspects very
precisely whilst somehow managing to retain an overall unity.
Put like that it may seem an impossible task, but it is perhaps
no more difficult than that of the director of any of Shakespeare’s
tragedies. In Auden’s words, “even the dreadful
martyrdom must run its course anyhow in a corner, some untidy
spot where the dogs go on with their doggy life and the torturer's
horse scratches its innocent behind on a tree”. The smugglers
in the two central acts have some interest in what happens to
Carmen and Don José, but their chief concern is with
the successful conclusion of their smuggling expedition. A good
production will bring both of these groups into clear focus,
as well as a flavour of Don José’s rural background
which we hear about in Michaela’s talk of his mother.
This set is apparently derived from various performances of
a new production by David McVicar. A DVD of that production
is already available made at a single performance in August
of that season but I have been unable to compare that with the
present composite version. There are however few moments in
the present set when the listener might suspect a join between
two performances, and overall there is a very real feeling of
a drama unfolding. In itself that is certainly a virtue but
on this occasion it brings with it the disadvantage of much
stage noise, at times even drowning the music. This may be exciting
enough on the first time of listening but I can well imagine
that for some listeners the very harmful effect on, for example,
the children’s chorus in Act 1 might put the whole set
beyond endurance. That would be a pity as the unwanted sounds
seem to get fewer as the performance continues, or perhaps by
the end I had simply stopped bothering about them . One very
positive effect of the set deriving from live performances is
on the delivery of the dialogue. It is spoken with a proper
regard for its place in the drama, adding to the overall effect
rather than simply being an interlude between the sung portions
of the work as it seems in some of those studio recorded sets
which opt for dialogue rather than the recitatives composed
after Bizet’s death by Ernest Guiraud for performances
in Vienna. Many, possibly most, productions nowadays prefer
to use dialogue but although in principle this is a right decision
it is only effective where the singers can speak it convincingly.
That is certainly the case here, and they make the most of the
additional information and characterisation that the use of
dialogue offers, bringing it much closer to the spirit of the
original novella by Prosper Mérimée. The edition
of the music used was prepared specially for this production
and omits many of the strange additions and changes included
in the Oeser version used in many modern productions.
The opera gets off to a very good start with an exciting and
alert performance of the Prélude from the London Philharmonic
under Philippe Jordan. Indeed throughout the opera the listener
is constantly drawn to their very detailed characterisation
of the music, with flexible and subtle phrasing. Vocally it
is the women who make the most impact. Anne Sofie von Otter
may not be the most obvious choice of singer as Carmen, but
it is that lack of obviousness in her approach which makes her
such a good choice. She makes Carmen pure caprice, not so much
earthy as aerial, flitting from what are to her attractive man
to attractive man and from mood to mood. She sings with great
variety of tone and manner, including moments of great beauty,
something found all too rarely in many Carmens. Lisa Milne rightly
makes Micaëla a more straightforward character, but she
too sings with great beauty of tone and care over phrasing.
Don José is a notoriously difficult role, with tenors
tending to sound either like coarse bullies or wimps. Marcus
Haddock makes a good attempt at a middle way but too often there
is a lack of variety and his tone tends to coarseness. Although
the dialogue tells much of the previous history of the character
as a village boy intended for the priesthood there is little
sense of that in Marcus Haddock’s characterisation. Reservations
must be made about Laurent Naouri’s Escamillo, sung idiomatically
but with a somewhat worn tone. The many “minor”
roles which add so much to the opera are all well taken.
As usual Glyndebourne have presented the set in style, in hard-backed
booklet containing a perceptive introduction and synopsis by
Rodney Milnes and the libretto and English translation. The
dialogue as printed differs in part to what is spoken but not
to a significant degree. There are also some fine photographs
of the production. All in all this is a fine recording of the
opera. Apart from the stage noises and a dull Don José
almost everything is right about it, and this is a set that
does real justice to the vitality, variety and sheer inventiveness
of the opera.
John Sheppard
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