The life of Jacques
Offenbach is nearly as complicated and tragic as his last, and
greatest, work, ‘The Tales of Hoffmann’. Jacques was originally
Jacob, born in 1819 in Cologne, the son of a jobbing Jewish
fiddler-cum-music teacher. The son revealed such early talent
that the father made many sacrifices to send his son to study
in Paris. There he in turn scraped a living as a ‘session’ cellist,
in today’s idiom. At the time of the ‘World Exhibition’ in Paris
in 1855, frustrated by inability to get his compositions performed,
he had opened the minuscule ‘Bouffes Parisiens’ theatre. Visitors
to ‘The Exhibition’ flocked to hear his tuneful operettas satirising
contemporary politics and society manners. As one successful
work followed another Rossini dubbed Offenbach ‘The Mozart
of the Champs Elysées’. This frivolous time in France finished
abruptly with the Franco-Prussian war and the siege of Paris
in 1870-71. The fall of Emperor Napoleon III quickly followed
and with it the collapse of the ‘Second Empire’. Perhaps Offenbach
with his Germanic guttural French felt his day in France was
over. He went to America still harbouring a wish to write a
true opera that would be accepted and performed the Paris ‘Opéra
Comique’.
On his return to
Paris, another composer generously ceded Offenbach the libretto
of Hoffmann. He set to work on the plot. It tells the story
of Hoffmann’s loves and his nemesis, Dr Lindorf, who assumes
the disguises of Coppelius, Dapertutto and Dr Miracle to thwart
Hoffman’s pursuit of the ladies of the story. Hoffmann in his
turn is rescued from the machinations, and worst intentions,
of Dr Lindorf by his companion Nicklausse, a trousers role.
As financial necessity involved Offenbach producing other work
during the period of composition, progress was slow and aggravated
by the composer’s declining health. At his death he had only
orchestrated the Prologue and Act 1. The remainder of the work
was in piano score and was orchestrated by Ernest Guiraud; he
who set the dialogue of Carmen as sung recitative. The work
was presented at the ‘Opéra Comique’ on 10 February 1881 and
ran for over 100 performances in that first season. However,
the convoluted story does not end there. Others added spoken
dialogue, altered the sequence of the acts, and their location,
as well as setting sung recitatives to replace the spoken dialogue.
This performance is based on the traditional Choudens edition
with sung recitative. The Finale is taken from the Oeser critical
edition and the Venice act comes second. It has different singers
as the women pursued by Hoffmann whilst Ruggero Raimondi takes
all the villain roles. The timing of the DVD recording is significantly
longer than that on either the Warner version from the 1982
Covent Garden performances, with Domingo as Hoffmann, or that
from Théâtre de la Monnaie in 1997 with a largely Francophone
cast (Arthaus Music). On CD the most extensive performing edition
is that on Philips conducted by Jeffrey Tate. It is based on
the Oeser Edition plus other more recently discovered pages.
This performance
takes place in the open air in the curved Arena Sferisterio
in Macerata that was once the venue for a ball game involving
ricochets off the long wall. The presentation here misses a
major trick by not showing the setting of the Arena and its
stage in all its glory. This would also have helped in getting
to grips with the staging when so much is presented in camera
close-up. With the production using projections onto the back
wall, a two-tier stage and imaginative lighting effects, it
is often difficult to get a perspective on the action. It is
a very different atmosphere than a traditional staged performance
in a theatre. The action is often focused on the centre of the
stage front with chorus or individuals on the raised rear. There
is no traditional tavern for the prologue or epilogues (Disc
1 tr.1 and Disc 2 tr. 8). With the colours predominantly black
and white in act 1, the Olympia act, stands out for its colour.
In the prologue a mute Stella represents Hoffmann’s three loves
whilst lithe dancers follow the music with Lindorf watching,
his acolytes in black and with satanic wings. There is some
loss of immediacy and presence in the sound that at times can
be rather distant and lacking dynamic contrast. Vincenzo La
Scola sings a strong-voiced Kleinzach (Disc 1 tr. 4) but as
in the rest of the opera his voice lacks much palette of colour.
Olympia is first seen in a red cage on the upper stage (Disc
1 tr. 6). Coppelius arrives on a penny-farthing bicycle (tr.
8). His C’est moi gives the first indication of Ruggero
Raimondi’s threadbare vocal state that is further reinforced
by his Scintille diament as Dapertutto in the Venice
act (act 2 tr. 3). This is a great pity as his acted portrayal
of Hoffmann’s sinister nemesis is a considerable strength in
this production. As Olympia, in reality a mechanical doll, Desirée
Rancatore sings and acts superbly. Her Les oiseaux dans la
charmille (Disc 1 tr.10) is magnificently sung with the
climactic note hit dead-centre.
The Venice scene
is given as act 2. It is denoted in the informative booklet
as act 2 tracks 1-6 of disc 1. The scene setting has the profile
of a gondola on the upper stage with projections and shadows
of passing population. A framed mirror dominates the front lower
stage and in which Hoffmann is destined to lose his reflection.
The introductory barcarolle is well sung by the lyric Sara Allegreta
as Giulieta and Elsa Maurus as a sonorous and well-tuned Nicklausse,
Hoffmann’s muse. Here, as in the epilogue, she cuts an appealing
figure and portrays the character well, both vocally and in
her acting. Sara Allegreta is also a convincing Antonio as she
tempts Hoffmann at Dapertutto’s encouragement. In the final
act (Disc 2 trs. 1-6) it is back to strict black and white on
a sparse stage. Antonia is sung by the rich-toned, but unsteady,
Annalisa Raspagliosi who finishes her aria with a raw top note
(act 2 tr. 6). The Crespel of Lorenzo Muzzi might have done
a better job vocally than Raimondi. But in this scene Raimondi
is superb in his acted portrayal of Dr. Miracle. Dressed in
black with top hat, his donning of red operating gloves as he
directs Antonia with a sheet covering a chaise longue is spookily
effective.
This performance
is distinctly different from the normal staged presentations
on the two issues referred to. In its own way it tellingly illuminates
Hoffmann’s tale. For an opera whose story is as nearly as convoluted
as its composition, such idiosyncrasy has its virtues. Despite
some vocal limitations I enjoyed the challenge of the producer’s
concept and the designer’s realisation.
Robert J. Farr
Hoffmann, Vincenzo La Scola
(ten); Olympia, Desirée Rancatore (sop); Giulietta, Sara Allegreta (sop);
Antonia, Annalisa Raspagliosi (sop); Nicklausse, Elsa Maurus (mezzo);
Lindorf/Dapertutto/Coppelius/Dr Miracle, Ruggero Raimondi (bass-bar);
Spalazini, Thomas Morris (ten); Nathanael, Francesco Zingarello (ten);
Stella, Tiziano Carraro (sop); Crespel /Luther, Lorenzo Muzzi (bass);
Hermann /Schlémil, Nicolas Rivenq (bar);
[2 DVDs: 169:00]
