Robert Carsen’s Paris
Opera production of the Tales of Hoffmann
opens promisingly on a strikingly lit
bare stage, all close-ups and low camera-angles.
Musically it strikes a positive note
as well, as Offenbach’s opening chorus
and solo for the Muse are used. The
singer in the first production was not
up to the role of the Muse and Niklausse
so much was cut; singers have been suffering
for this ever since. Here, Susanne Mentzer
made a striking Muse and transforms
into a creditable Niklausse.
For the prologue proper
we find ourselves in a theatre bar.
In another striking image the bar spreads
right across the stage dividing the
chorus from us. It provides a suitable
stage for Hoffmann’s antics in Klein
Zack. Hoffmann is played by Neil Shicoff.
This is a modern dress production, so
Shicoff is saddled with a rather shabby
suit and looks remarkably like a down-at-heels
businessman with a bad haircut, rather
than a romantic poet. Shicoff’s voice
is still creditable but lacks the flexibility
it once had. On the DVD he just lacked
the youth or style to make a romantic
hero. (Youth is not everything in this
role, even late in his career Alfredo
Kraus made an unbelievably stylish Hoffmann).
Bryn Terfel’s Lindorf
starts off well, and he is aided by
some stunning lighting (along with more
close-ups and low camera angles). Musicologically
this is a very mixed production. Terfel
plays all the villains and Michel Sénéchal
plays all of the comic tenor parts.
But we have four different heroines.
The basic score is the corrupt but dramatically
viable Choudens Edition of 1907, to
which a number of new items have been
added, notably strengthening the role
of the Muse/Niklausse. Sung recitative
has been retained. This leads to one
of the opera’s perennial problems nowadays
– its sheer length. If you add extra
material to the Choudens score but keep
the recitative then the pace of the
opera can flag. Only with spoken dialogue
can we get a version which is pacy enough
to cope with the extra musical material.
I rather enjoyed Carsen’s
rather riotous way with this prologue.
Too often the carousing students can
wear a bit thin and he has come up with
a way of making this scene work. Scenically
the production is quite spectacular
– at one point in this scene Stella
and the entire cast of Don Giovanni
drift past on a huge Don Giovanni stage
set.
Act 1 opens in rather
an uncertain space. Familiarity with
the remainder of Carsen’s production
led me to presume that it was meant
to be back-stage, as Carsen sets the
entire opera in the theatre itself.
This Act rather lacked the folie
de grandeur that I would expect
from the setting. Carsen’s treatment
of Olympia was also a little self-indulgent.
Désirée Rancatore wears
a doll body under her costume, to enhance
her artificiality. Vocally she was quite
at ease and she entered into Carsen’s
vulgar antics with a will, using a fan
as a cod microphone, having sex with
Hoffmann in a cart full of straw and
eventually ending up naked (well just
wearing the naked doll costume). Puzzlingly
the chorus retain their Spanish costumes
from the previous scene so we must presume
that they are intended to be the same
people.
As Hoffmann, Shicoff
does a nice line in boyish naivety,
even if it sits oddly with his visual
image and his voice tends to go a little
steely under pressure. One of the joys
of the set is Michel Sénéchal
singing Cochenille in this scene, always
with a twinkle in his eye. Mentzer’s
Niklausse is characterful and stylish,
but her voice becomes a little uncontrolled
at time. Terfel projects a magnificently
evil character, but he lacks the sense
of humour that someone like Geraint
Evans brought to the role of Coppelius.
As a result he seems like an evil corporate
apparatchik rather than a figure in
a Romantic story.
For Act 2 (the Antonia
act, given its correct position in the
play) the action moves to an orchestra
pit with the stage, curtains closed,
above. Antonia, played by Ruth Ann Swenson,
was rather robust of figure and of tone;
I would have liked her to sound more
fragile. In both Acts 1 and 2 Niklausse’s
role included material not in the standard
edition and Mentzer took full advantage
of this, giving Niklausse a more rounded
portrayal than is possible with the
truncated version.
Antonia’s ‘C’est l’amour’
was stunningly sung by Swenson, but
unfortunately in the duets Shicoff just
sounded too effortful. Terfel’s Dr.
Miracle enters in tails through the
curtains of the stage above the empty
orchestra pit where Antonia and Hoffmann
had had their meeting. Carsen’s musical
allusions start to cohere a little.
Miracle is the conductor here and when
he conjures up the ghost of Antonia’s
mother, it is as Donna Anna in the self-same
set of Don Giovanni that we saw in the
prologue. Don Giovanni features quite
heavily in the production with many
of the characters referring to a score
of that opera.
This Act had some of
the most dramatically powerful moments
in the entire opera, though Swenson
failed to extract the right amount of
pathos. As Antonia dies, Dr. Miracle
starts conducting an orchestra in the
now populated pit and as the act finishes,
the curtains on the upper stage close.
For Act 3, Venice has
become the auditorium of a theatre with
rows of seats rising facing us. As the
curtain rises just Niklausse and Giulietta
are sat in the seats and as they sing
the Barcarolle, the rows of seats sway
back and forth to the music! Gradually
the ‘audience’ arrives and sits in the
seats, though it is not long before
they abandon sitting and have a (very
discreet) orgy.
Hoffmann makes his
entry onto the stage in front of the
‘audience’. In this Act, Terfel’s Dapertutto
seems to be a director staging a show.
Musically this Act is the least satisfactory,
retaining its substantially corrupt
form with Dapertutto’s ‘Scintille Diamant’
and the sextet. Giulietta is played
by the strikingly glamorous Beatrice
Uria-Monzon. Unfortunately I found that
her vibrato-laden voice with its lack
of line, did not live up to her visual
image and she lacked the requisite sense
of style needed for Offenbach’s music.
The ending, inevitably given the edition,
was rather unsubstantial. The sextet
was a show staged by Dapertutto and
the ending just seemed to evaporate.
Things improved in
the Epilogue. This was more extensive
than usual, making much more of the
identification of Stella with the other
three heroines. It concluded in a very
striking manner with an aria for the
Muse and chorus as she leads Hoffmann
off towards the light.
For a number of people,
the big draw of this set will be Bryn
Terfel as the four villains. He makes
a very striking villain and is a significant
presence throughout the opera. His singing
throughout is exemplary and he contributes
some significantly powerful moments,
but I would have liked a little more
Gallic style.
‘Tales of Hoffmann’
is a very tricky opera to stage and
with its uncertain and shifting musicological
heritage there is no single, strongly
dramatic version that can be used. Inevitably,
most versions of the opera sprawl. Carsen’s
attempt to link all this up with the
image of the theatre might have seemed
like a good idea, but too often it left
me puzzling as to what was going on.
Perhaps I would have been happier if
the performances had been of a higher
calibre. All the singers were perfectly
credible, but I wanted more. And in
the premier opera house in France I
was distressed by the lack of French
singers and more importantly, the requisite
Offenbach style.
If you want a DVD of
the opera, this will do quite well but
personally I’d rather wait for something
with that little bit extra.
Robert Hugill
Chorus and Orchestra of the Opera Nationale
de Paris/Jesus Lopez-Cobos 