Trundling back to New York after my London break, first on my list was the much maligned Luc Bondy production of "Tosca" at the Metropolitan Opera. It is indeed a weak production but it wasn't much helped by the glamorous but unfocused cast. To take the lethal drama that is "Tosca" and make it quite so dull is something I never thought I'd see.
Roberto Alagna came out firing on all cylinders yet this was a bish, bash, bosh performance of little shading. He went for the vocal school of louder is better, with apparently little concern for the minor niceties of pitch and phrasing. In the final act he came out a different performer however, producing a gorgeous, well shaped, even poetic "E lucevan le stelle". It was too long coming though, and he never even seemed to be attempting chemistry with his Tosca, Patricia Racette. Racette is a very fine singer but one with little personality to speak of. She has a pleasing, rather meaty voice and there was little to criticize or dislike but for whatever reason she didn't shine. Pick of the bunch was George Gagnidze's gloriously nasty Scarpia, growling his way through the part with a sweaty majesty. The smaller roles were exceptionally well filled, Paul Plishka (bowing out after many decades at the Met) showed exactly how to round out the small role of the Sacristan and Richard Bernstein delivered a full throttle Angelotti. Neel Ram Nagarajan produced the loudest shepherd's song I have ever heard and it was near faultless to boot.
All this good work however counted for nothing in this tedious staging. Bondy appears to have vaguely aimed at naturalism but with varying period, costumes seemingly traversing centuries, and little to engender a sense of place. Act I's church achieved the rare feat of making the stage look spare whilst also dwarfing the singers. Act II took us to what appeared to be a Eastern-European communist apartment (with horrific couches) whilst the Act III battlements offered the odd impression of being a dockside, the conclusion having Tosca about to jump from about 10 feet into water (we disappointingly get no actual jump). If the designs are dull as dishwater, what really fails is the stagecraft which relentlessly ignores the music, text and reality. To name just one example what kind of an execution by firing squad gives the shooters a difficult shot and the prisoner an opportunity to flee? The little things just do not add up in this production.
To cap off this rather dull evening was Mikko Franck's uneven conducting, the odd bit too fast and considerable sections delivered at a snoozy pace (makes one yearn for a good dose of Pappano). Overall then, a show light on drama though the reasonably high quality singing meant it never lacked for pleasures. It's a poor production, neither here nor there, the grey walls providing a tidy metaphor for the atmosphere on stage.
(Review of Performance on Saturday, January 14th, 2012 at the Metropolitan Opera)
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