Whoever looks after publicity for the Bregenz Festival’s opera 
                  productions has a dream of a job. We can take for granted the 
                  photogenic attractions of the attractive outdoors setting overlooking 
                  Lake Constance. Because the stage floats on the water and is 
                  necessarily placed some way distant from the 7,000-strong audience, 
                  the sets - unlimited as they are in the absence of any proscenium 
                  arch - tend to be multi-dimensional, larger than life and visually 
                  very striking. I remember, in particular, that a decade ago 
                  the amazing design for Bregenz’s production of Verdi’s Un 
                  ballo in maschera, featuring an enormous skeleton stretching 
                  an arm out over the on-stage action, was pictured in at least 
                  one British national newspaper. More recently, that for Puccini’s 
                  Tosca was the major location for a dramatic scene in 
                  the James Bond movie Quantum of solace. 
                  
                  This newly released DVD comes hot off the production line and 
                  preserves a performance given just a few months earlier in the 
                  summer of 2011. Just as its box cover does, I’ll begin by focusing 
                  on David Fielding’s production designs. Interviewed in the useful 
                  accompanying booklet, Fielding recalls how, in the early planning 
                  stages, when he “looked out across the Bay of Bregenz and at 
                  Lake Constance … I was irresistibly reminded of a gigantic bathtub. 
                  The painting of Marat, the death struggle of the revolutionary 
                  leader lying in his bathtub as a symbol of the Revolution – 
                  it was an ideal metaphor for this opera.” [For Jacques-Louis 
                  David’s painting The death of Marat, see 
                  here]. 
                  
                  With that metaphorical approach, any idea of creating realistic 
                  sets showing the Countess de Coigny’s ballroom, the Paris café, 
                  the Revolutionary courtroom and the courtyard of the Saint-Lazare 
                  prison is abandoned. Instead we are presented with a gigantic 
                  head of Marat, modelled on that famous painting, surrounded 
                  by a complex network of platforms, scaffolding and vertiginous 
                  walkways – as well as a gigantic “mirror” in a gilt frame that 
                  is set off to one side. 
                  
                  Although that set-up is extremely flexible and allows the production 
                  to flow relatively seamlessly between the various platforms, 
                  it is sometimes used rather self-indulgently and can then rob 
                  certain passages of their necessary spatial and emotional intimacy. 
                  Thus, in Act 1 Chénier is meant to be addressing Maddalena directly, 
                  yet at Bregenz he does so from a great distance and with a crowd 
                  of extras positioned between them. Similarly, in Act 3 the peasant 
                  woman Madelon is clearly, from her words, supposed to be standing 
                  next to her grandson – yet in this production she declaims her 
                  patriotism from between the lips of the giant Marat head while 
                  the understandably rather bemused looking boy is to be found 
                  some considerable way away among the extras in a completely 
                  different part of the set. 
                  
                  On the whole, though, this unusual production’s pluses outweigh 
                  the minuses. Bustling extras, be they the chateau servants of 
                  Act 1 or the revolutionary crowds of Acts 2, 3 and 4, look far 
                  more energetic when their stage business takes place not only 
                  on a conventionally horizontal plane but on vertical ones too. 
                  The top-to-bottom sets also allow for some unusually inventive 
                  action. At one point the spy Incredibile abseils down them, 
                  while at others the revolutionary mob hurl aristocrats from 
                  on high into Lake Constance. Later, both the condemned noblewoman 
                  Idia Legray and the escaping Chénier may be seen throwing themselves 
                  into the chilly waters too! 
                  
                  A few other points in the production were especially striking. 
                  
                  
                  It begins with a figure of Death (complete with an enormous 
                  scythe) marching onto the set where, as the countess’s decadent 
                  party gets into full swing, he acts as a constant visual reminder 
                  to the audience of oncoming spilt blood. He remains apparently 
                  invisible to the prancing and preening aristocrats, even though 
                  he sings the words allocated in the score to the household’s 
                  major-domo. 
                  
                  Potential buyers ought also to be aware of the fact that at 
                  two points the director has inserted musical “interludes” by 
                  the contemporary composer David Blake. The first, a 3:42 episode 
                  for a chorus of violent revolutionaries placed between Acts 
                  1 and 2, features, I think, not only a synthesiser but an electric 
                  guitar; the second sees Maddalena’s loyal servant Bersi giving 
                  us 4:02 of her philosophy of death to an orchestration that 
                  is certainly Blake rather than Giordano. I actually rather enjoyed 
                  hearing them but, for purists who like their Giordano 100% neat, 
                  they can easily be skipped, if preferred, using the remote control. 
                  
                  
                  That “mirror” that I referred to earlier makes its own very 
                  definite impression in the last 30 seconds or so of the whole 
                  production. I won’t spoil the surprise that a very clever visual 
                  effect will generate, but suffice to say that – in the necessary 
                  absence from the Bregenz set of a real tumbrel to carry the 
                  lovers off to their murderous fate – it offered the audience 
                  a suitably cathartic alternative mental image to take home with 
                  them. 
                  
                  If the production was certainly striking, what of the singing? 
                  Given the distance of the floating stage from the shore-based 
                  seating, the huge number in the audience and the weather conditions 
                  - clearly rather breezy to say the least by the final Act - 
                  lip microphones are a must at Bregenz. It is clear, nonetheless, 
                  that the three principals have powerful and skilled voices. 
                  I was especially impressed by Hector Sandoval in the title role. 
                  He looks the part, acts naturally and sounds suitably heroic, 
                  especially in the showpiece final lovers’ duet. Norma Fantini 
                  also looks good, though she is at times inclined to mug a few 
                  exaggerated facial gestures, as though forgetting that less 
                  is more when being filmed close-up by the camera. She matches 
                  Sandoval well vocally, however, and produces some beautiful 
                  sounds in her own showpiece La mamma morta. Baritone 
                  Scott Hendricks, a Bregenz regular in the past few years - Il 
                  Trovatore, Tosca and King Roger - gives a 
                  good musical account of the emotionally tortured Gérard. He 
                  may not succeed in elucidating all his character’s motivational 
                  complexities, but as librettist Illica and composer Giordano 
                  failed equally in that task maybe we can excuse him. 
                  
                  I was also especially taken with Rosalind Plowright’s portrayal 
                  of the countess, bringing, as she did, considerable character 
                  and humour to the role while managing to negotiate the set successfully 
                  while wearing an unfeasibly large wig. In fact, all the costumes 
                  – designed by Constance Hoffman - deserve a word of praise, 
                  especially those of Act 1 where the aristocrats’ bad taste in 
                  completely over the top and utterly camp apparel would, you’d 
                  imagine, have been quite enough on their own to provoke the 
                  peasants to join the French Revolution. The only possible word 
                  one can use to describe them is one coined by the late Kenneth 
                  Williams - fantabulosa! 
                  
                  Giving that filming on a such a complex set cannot have been 
                  easy, video director Felix Breisach has done a good job and 
                  ensures that we see all that we need to, not necessarily an 
                  easy task when the lighting is sometimes quite dark. The booklet 
                  carries a brief synopsis of the plot and with decent, if occasionally 
                  stilted, English subtitles it should be enough to carry even 
                  a viewer unfamiliar with the opera comfortably through the plot. 
                  
                  
                  If you were present at Bregenz this summer, I have no doubt 
                  that you would have enjoyed this production immensely. I am 
                  not sure, though, that this DVD will fit the bill as the standard 
                  Andrea Chénier DVD that you will want to take down from 
                  your shelves. Certainly, for those who enjoy more conventional 
                  opera productions, this new disc will not displace the outstandingly 
                  sung Mario Del Monaco / Antonietta Stella / Giuseppe Taddei 
                  Italian television film of 1955 (Bel Canto Society DVD BCS-D0003), 
                  even though that is in monochrome and most definitely showing 
                  its age. For a sound-only recording, Del Monaco and Renata Tebaldi 
                  give the score the outing of its life on an as yet unsurpassed 
                  set in Decca’s Grand Opera series (425 407-2).   
                
                Rob Maynard