Véronique Gens Wigmore Hall, Gounod, Massenet, Duparc, Hahn, Offenbach

Véronique Gens is a much-loved regular at the Wigmore Hall, generally focusing there on Mélodie and Chanson, despite her formidable reputaion in more esoteric French repertoire.  Will London ever be ready for full  Belle Époque opera ?  Or even full Baroque opera ?  In France she's the doyenne of French style.  Gens starred in Niobe, regina di Tebe and La Calisto at the Royasl Opera hopuse but we don't really get enough of her live.  (Thank goodness for recordings !)   So we're lucky to have her at the Wigmore Hall with regular pianist Susan Manoff.  Gens is sounding as fresh and lustrous as ever : a gorgeous recital, perfect balm for a sticky summer evening. 





Gens and Manoff began with Gounod, whose 200th birthday is celebrated this year, with lots of new performances and material.  Listen specially to the opera Dante (more here) sponsored by Palazzetto Bru Zane, and for a briefer sample of her opera tableaux, listen to her wonderful collection Visions (HERE) and its companion Néère, with familiar Duparc, Hahn, and Chausson mélodies.   Gens and Manoff began with a spirit of adventure, the breezy Gounod Où voulez-vous aller? the last lines lit with coloratura ebullience. Subdued refinement in Le Soir, quietly fading to silence, and  lovely piano line in O ma belle rebelle.  In Gounod Sérénade the piano line ripples while the voice creates decorative trills evoking the sound of possibly Alpine calls.  "Ah! Dormez, dormez ma belle... dormez dormez toujours!" It's a berceuse, setting a text by Victor Hugo, the music cradling the lines in gentle,rocking motion.  Gosh, how I love this song, which is, fortunately,  a Gens staple which she's done many times. A poised Mignon and an exuberant Viens, les gazons sont verts, almost literally breathing fresh air. 

Another serenade, in Lamento by Edmund, Prince du Polignac was sensual, like a serenade on a lute, with the air of something alien and exotic, possibly a guitar, evoking romantic Southern climes. The last line, though is the punchline, the timbre suddenly dropping on the words "un ange amoreux". It's a love song for someone dead, in "la blanche tombe,

Où flotte avec un son plaintif

L'ombre d'un if ?" The text is Théophile Gautier.  Massenet's Chant provençal describes a girl so pure she doesn't know her charms.  The piano part protectively with its tinkling brightness shields Gens's delicate vocal line. True innocence is harder to portray than extravagance but Massenet makes it sound effortless.  And thus to Massenet's Élégie, where simplicity gives way to almost operatic declamation.   Good programming : the songs in this section heard together form a coherent arc, complemented by Massenet's Nuit d'Espagne, which picks up the idea of lute/guitar serenade. 

After the interval, Henri Duparc and Reynaldo Hahn, representing a generation later than Gounod and Massenet,. Duparc's Chanson triste, La vie antérieure and Extase all beautifully expressed by Gens and Manoff who have performed them together many times.  But in the context of this evening's recital, what stood out was Lamento, where Duparc sets the same Gauthier text that inspired Edmund Polignac, but chooses different stanzas.  Duparc doesn't need mock guitar serenade, since he focuses more on the mournful meaning of the poem.  Gens declaimed with elegant dignity, Manoff  creating the dark, rumbling piano lines.  Good programming is important! Someone recently told me that he hated concerts because he couldn't concentrate solely on what he wanted to hear, but yow ! That's the whole point of a recital, putting things together in a way that enhances them all.   

Three songs from Reynaldo Hahn Le rossignol des lilas, Mai, and Les cygnes, ideally suited to the innate purity of Gen's style, With Infidélité and Rêverie she could display more depth and richness of tone.  As always fidelity to meaning makes all, the difference. Gens understands why the emotions in the poem (Gautier) are understated rather than overt.  A change of mood to conclude, with  songs from Offenbach's Six Fables of La Fontaine, La laitière et le pot au lait, Le rat de ville et le rat des champs, La cigale et la fourmi and for the first encore, Le corbeau et le renard.  Offenbach  replicates la Fontaine's long almost prose like lines, lively phrasing bringing out the sting in their tales.  Gen's gift for precise diction and clarity paid off handsomely.  For a second encore,  Gabriel Fauré's Le rose d'Ispahan, one of the loveliest songs in the entire canon, deliciously fragrant in this performance.  A third encore : Reynaldo Hahn's Néère. 


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Hommage à Gounod 200th birthday

Today marks the 200th birthday of Charles Gounod celebrated in Paris last night by Palazzetto Bru Zane. Look HERE at the programme ! and watch it again HERE on arte.tv.  Excerpts from many of his operas, and Olivier Latry performing an improvisation for organ.  Gounod's reputation has expanded greatly : so much more to him than Faust (which is pretty brilliant).  PLEASE READ THIS IMPORTANT PIECE FROM PALAZETTO BRU ZANE who have done so much to expand knowledge of the composer and his repertoire.  Please see also HERE my review of the most recent Gounod rarity, his last oratorio Saint François d'Assise.  A new recording of Gounod's mélodies is being released soon, which I'll write about shortly

Gounod Saint François d'Assise - Laurence Equilbey

The world premiere recording of Charles Gounod's last oratorio, Saint François d'Assise,  with Laurence Equilbey, the Orchestre de chambre de Paris and Accentus chamber choir and soloists. First heard in March 1891, Gounod's Saint François d'Assise was thought lost for over a century until a manuscript was discovered in a convent in Auvers-sur-Oise. Sponsored by Palazetto Bru-Zane, and distributed by Naïve, this recording was made in performance at the Philharmonie de Paris in 2016.
"A dream crossed my mind to write a sort of musical triptych after the manner of the primitive painters", wrote Gounoid as he began Saint François d'Assise. "I would like the first of the two tableaux to be a musical represenation of Murillo's painting depicting the crucified Christ as He leans towards St Francis and puts his arm around him. The secvond tableau would be a transposition of Giotto's admirable painting The Death of St Francis in which he is surrounded by his friars."   Hence the character of this oratorio, at once simple and profound, reflecting the values of St Francis, who renounced worldly status  for vows of poverty and humility. The beauty of Saint François d'Assise lies in its quiet sincerity, its colours radiant but pristine.  It is a long way from Grand Opéra, but moving in its own way.  


The first section, La Cellule, begins calmly, with a pulse that resembles plainchant heard from a distance, the line gradually rising upwards and growing brighter.  From this arises the voice of the tenor, Stanislas de Barbeyrac. St Francis is alone in his cell, contemplating Christ. "Mon conurbation s'abîme", the orchestral line surging, as if in tune with the saint's heartbeat, or perhaps the flow of eternal,fountains, mentioned in the text.  Suddenly  a new theme appears, richer and firmer still, for the crucifix in the cell seems to come alive in the voice of the baritone (Florian Sempey). For the saint, this is a miracle. "Je ne suis plus à moi" but one with his God.   In the second part, St Francis is on his deathbed, the choir representing his fellow monks chanting in prayer. Long, elliptical  brass lines suggest chill, or perhaps a call from afar : quiet winds suggest the palpitations of a weakening heartbeat.  St Frqncis comforts his monks. "C'est la mort qui s'enfuit" Another chorus, this time representing angels, wafts the saint up to heaven.
Also on this recording, two hymns to St Cecilia, the patron of music, the first Gounod's Hymne à Sainte Cécile and Franz Liszt's Légende de Sainte Cécile.  Unlike Gounod's larger religious works, such as his Messe solennelle de Saint Cécile, his hymn is a miniature for solo violin (Deborah Nemtanu) and small orchestra with horns,  harps, winds and strings.  A lovely coda, where the violin line flutters delicately, haloed by the other strings.  Liszt's Légende de Sainte Cécile for mezzo soprano (Karine Deshayes) chorus and orchestra sets a poem describing the life of St, Cecilia, martyred in Roman times. Thus Liszt alternates mourning with sublimation, suggestions of early plainchant with "modern" idiom, the two strands flowing together as if in procession.    

New from Opera Rara - Gounod La Colombe, Donizetti Le Duc d'Albe

Latest recordings from Opera Rara - Gounod La Colombe and Donizetti Le Duc d'Albe.  Read a full and detailed review HERE IN OPERA TODAY by Claire Seymour.


photo courtesy Macbeth Media Relations

Gounod Faust 2014 Royal Opera House

Gounod's Faust makes a much welcomed return to the Royal Opera House. With each new cast, the dynamic changes as the balance between singers shifts and brings out new insights. In that sense, every revival is an opportunity to revisit from new perspectives. This time Bryn Terfel sang Méphistophélès, with Joseph Calleja as Faust – stars whose allure certainly helped fill the hall to capacity. And the audience enjoyed a very good show.

The opera starts in darkness: Faust knows all about the world from books, but hasn't lived.  Maurizio Benini's tempi were slow, suggesting that Faust is perhaps on the point of death when the pastoral theme bursts into the overture like a breath of Spring. When Calleja cried "Rein!", his anguish was heartfelt. As the youthful Faust, Calleja is much more in his element. His natural exuberance makes his Faust cocky rather than intellectual, but that's a perfectly valid interpretation. When Calleja sang  "Salut! demeure chaste et pur" he held the spectacular long note so fluidly, the audience went into rapture.  Calleja's Faust is a good-old-fashioned Italian (Maltese) wide boy, oozing charm. His rapport with the Margeurite of the evening, Alexia Voulgaridou, was good: they were singing together rather than at each other. There's a difference. 

Bryn Terfel created Méphistophélès for this production ten years ago, so it was big news when he substituted for another singer at short notice. Terfel is always a force to be reckoned with, even when forcefulness dominates his singing. Méphistophélès gets away with things because he's sly. The delicate background of pizzicato around the part suggest half-glimpsed flashes of hellfire. Rather more cunning on Terfel's part might have been more in character. Terfel's Méphistophélès and Calleja's Faust don't mesh together well, though both singers are masters at working an audience. Terfel's performance this time round was interesting because it showed just how "Gallic" Gounod's Méphistophélès is, in contrast to Goethe's original, and to Russian manifestations,  Think Chaliapin. When René Pape sang the part in 2011, the urbane sophistication he brought to the part made it truly sinister.

Alexia Voulgaridou has sung Marguerite many times. As soon as she began singing, her experience showed. She may not be as high profile as Sonya Yoncheva, who has appeared at the Met, with whom she shares the role, but she inhabits the role with great conviction. In her Jewel Song, her rich timbre evoked the sensuality underlying the purity in Marguerite's personality. Voulgaridou is physically very small, but energetic, suggesting the innate strength in the role. The revival director, Bruno Ravella, has dispensed with the silly blonde wig that made Angela Gheorghiu look wrong in 2011. It's the singing that counts, and most of the good ones these days have Latin complexions, perfectly right for a French heroine.

Simon Keenlyside is a perennial House favourite, but here his Valentin seemed underdeveloped. He has the notes but pushes them a little too hard, though his "death aria" was evenly paced an d well presented. Keenlyside's Valentin could have been the brother of Terfel's Méphistophélès. In 2011, Dmitri Hvorostovsky intimated that there's more to Valentin than the libretto alone might indicate. Renata Pokupić's Siebel was spirited. This is an unusual part wihich could be shaped well by someone with Pokupić's individuality: perhaps she'll make it a signature role. Jihoon Kim sang Wagner. Next season he will become a company principal, deservedly so, as he's very good.  Diana Montague sang Marthe.

The designs in this production, by Charles Edwards and his team, also reference the "Frenchness" of Gounod's idiom. In the cathedral scene, Marguerite prays before an ornate Baroque sculpture, from which Méphistophélès emerges. In modern, secular times the idea of sacrilege might not be as shocking as it was in 19th century France, so this staging is an excellent way into the deeper levels of meaning in the opera. The military choruses, for example, would have resonated with audiences for whom Napoleon III and the Crimean War were topical. Marguerite's predicament, too, highlights the hypocrisy of a world in which one unmarried mother s condemned while the image of another is revered. The Walpurgis Night ballet is staged in the context of the Paris Opéra,, where patrons lust for young dancers, just as Faust fancied Marguerite.  The choregraphy, originally by Michael Keegan-Dolan and revived by Daphne Strothmann, was brilliantly executed - the male principa,l Eric Underwood, was particularly expressive, his physical agility underlining the erotic undercurrent that runs through the whole opera.

This article appears in Opera Today. 

Photos c Bill Cooper, courtesy Royal Opera House

Faust in Hong Kong

Gounod Faust at the Royal Opera House this week with superlative casts. Plus, Luke Bedford's Through His Teeth based loosely on a Faustian pact, which those in the know have praised for its subtle intricacy. Faust in Hong Kong too at the Grand Theatre of the HK Cultural Centre. It's a joint production with Opéra Nice Côte d’Azur, Opéra Grand Avignon and Opéra Théâtre de Saint-Étienne, so will also be heard in France.

It's produced by Warren Mok, the great Chinese tenor. Read more about him here. It's good to have a singer in charge, especially one with such extensive experience.

Another very good reason for catching this Faust is ZhengZhong Zhou, who sings Valentin, a role he alternated at the Royal Opera House with Dimitri Hvorostovsky. Alternated - not replaced, and not in a second cast. He sang with Angela Gheorghiu, Vittorio Grigolo, and René Pape.  Zhou was a Jette Parker Young Artist and works with the Deutsche Oper Berlin, as well as building a career in Europe, the US and China. Although I don't know any of the French cast,  Zhou stands out. He's distinctive, combining a good, flexible voice with strong technique and acting skills. How lucky HK will be to have him! The role in Gounod's opera is fairly substantial, far greater than in Goethe's original, and provides a balance to Marguerite and Seibel. Definitely a singer to nurture. So Hong Kong will now enjoy Faust and those rousing choruses "“Gloire immortelle”"

Véronique Gens Wigmore Hall Massenet Gounod Hahn

Véronique Gens is one of the reasons French music is now in a new golden age. Her core repertoire is baroque, so that lucid aesthetic informs her approach, ideally suited to the intelligence of French song. All week I've been enjoying Véronique Gens's recital at the Wigmore Hall still accessible on BBC Radio3  til Xmas Eve. Please listen - it's lovely.

It's unusual too, focussing on songs by Jules Massenet and Charles Gounod, better known outside France for their operas, contrasted with songs by Reynaldo Hahn. It's a good combination because it presents French song in context, and also suggests why French opera is so distinctive.

Massenet's Chant provençal describes a girl so pure she doesn't know her charms. Charlotte or Sophie? The piano part (Susan Manoff) protectively shields Gens's delicate vocal line. True innocence is harder to portray than extravagance. The trite poetry of L'âme des oiseaux is rescued by legato into which Gens breathes, suggesting flight and movement. Altogether more sophisticated is  the justly famous La mort de la cigale. It's an observation from nature, hushed in wonder. Only when the cicada is dead can the voice break out in protest. The cicada's life is too short. As is ours. 

Soleil couchant is based on a poem by Victor Hugo, who builds inner phrases into each line, creating an inner  rhythm which Massenet respects in the range with which he sets each line. Gens is a soprano, but with such depth that she could be a falcon. Nothing simple about this sunset, for night will turn to day, just as rivers flow from mountains to the ocean.  "Mais moi, sous chaque jour courbant plus bas ma tête, Je passe et, refroidi sous ce soleil joyeux, Je m'en irai bientôt, au milieu de la fête, Sans que rien manque au monde immense et radieux!" Listen to how Gens shapes the rolling phrases and then breathes expansively into the last three words so they glow, and Manoff's piano cries in affirmation.

Gounod was a generation older than Massenet, and his songs reflect a different sensibilty. Gens sings them elegantly, beautifully decorating the trills in Sérénade. Exquisite singing, reminding me of the "alpine" lines in   Schubert Der Hirt auf dem Felsen. This poem is Victor Hugo again, from his drama Mary Tudor. Gounod sets it as a lilting berceuse. It's charming, but we'd best forget what happened to Mary!  Including the Lamento by Edmond, Prince de Polignac among the Gounod songs was a good idea. The Lamento is sensual, like a serenade on a lute, but has the air of something alien and and exotic. It connects the mood of Massenet's Nuit d'Espagne and even the open-spirited lyricism of Gounod's Ou voulez-vous aller? with the world of Reynaldo Hahn. One belle époque leading to the next.

Reynaldo Hahn's music evokes for me the luxury of salons graced by such as the Prince de Polignac and his widow Winaretta Singer, friend of Nadia Boulanger and Hugues Cuénod. Hahn's music is highly perfumed but its refinement is by no means merely decorative. A Chloris, for example, the song everyone loves, is based on renaissance court poetry and Bach's Air on the G String, reimagined through the prism of Paris in 1913.  Hahn and his circle were fully aware of what Debussy, Stravinsky and others were doing. A Chloris is an exotic hybrid, a hothouse flowering  that survived because it catches the imagination. For Véronique Gens, it's a link between her baroque background and her championship of later French repertoire.

Gounod Mirielle New Sussex Opera

Popular in France but unknown in England? Arthur Honegger's Joan of Arc at the stake at the Barbican wasn't appreciated enough, so it was good that that Charles Gounod's Mirielle, with the New Sussex Opera, at Cadogan Hall got a better response.  There's no difference between journalists and bloggers (you'd be surprised who is NUJ and who's not).  There's just good writing and not.  So here are two examples of well-informed, thoughtful writers who care about what they're doing. Rupert Christiansen in the Telegraph and Robert Hugill of Planet Hugill.  The latter also has interesting things to say about Honegger. Once I was at a South Bank pre-concert talk and the speaker asked  "How many of you have heard of X?" As if the audience would be paying £40  for no reason.  About 200 hands shot up. "At the bloody Proms!" someone shouted, since the composer is hardly obscure. We were there because we wanted to find out more but it was a waste of time. Nobody is going to know everything, or needs to, but most people want to try to learn. The more information, the better an opinion can be formed, and the better the experience.

Faust embastillé par la mise en scène?

"Faust embastillé par la mise en scène?, so writes my friend Dodorock on his unique blog De chez toi.  Thanks to him, we can watch Gounod Faust straight from Paris, Opéra Bastille, (Philippe Jordan, Roberto Alagna) hours after the show on 11th October. and also read a selection of reviews. Controversial, huh? One critic wails that Gounod's been turned into grand Guignol. On the other hand Faust's predicament is the ultimate grand Guignol, for Méphisto is leading Faust into crazier things than he could ever imagine.

Watching the production live and on film are different experiences. This film, directed by François Roussillon is probably clearer, since the camera can pick up on tiny telling details you could easily miss on a big stage. The set (Johann Engels) is panoramic for a good reason : it represents Faust's search for knowledge. Hence bookshelves straight to the top of the stage area, statues, telescopes, astrolabes, and a rhinoceros, like the one Louis XV kept at Versailles. The idea is that the universe is so full of exotic things, we can never stop searching. Faust has realized that he'll never take it all in, which is why he calls on Méphisto to restore the youth he hadn't appreciated when young. Central features: a gigantic crucifix and a glass dome under which a miniature green jungle thrives. A golden calf and huge skeleton. Such abundance, yet Faust knows something's missing. Like Einstein writing on a blackboard, he scrawls "Rien!" on the wall.

Méphisto arrives quietly. Paul Gay looks more than 2 metres tall, elegantly attired, sophisticated. A brief shot of a painting behind him, barely glimpsed, of the traditional Devil in red jumpsuit and pointy tail.  If the Devil, in real life, was so easy to spot, why follow? Why anyone needs to see him as fire spitting demon, I don't know, for the whole point is that mortals choose their own fate. Méphisto merely facilitates.

Remi Corazza sings Old Faust, who transforms into Roberto Alagna's Young Faust. On film, the switch is amazing, as it should be. It's a miracle, by the devil.  Alagna is surprisingly good, though he's more Italianate than Gallic, but that's no problem. Faust is an eternal archetype, German with Goethe, vaguely middle European in Marlowe. Alagna's physicality is superb. His Faust has erotic animal energy, with much moree individual personality than Grigolo at Covent Garden.(please see review HERE) Sex is the life force that motivates Marguerite, too, and Siebel and Marthe. 

At first, Inva Mula as Marguerite, moves like an automaton, singing the King of Thule song as if the slavish loyalty in the song was drilled into her. When she finds the jewel box, she's transforemed. While McVicar had Gheorghiu squeal with delight at fake gemstones, the Paris director, Jean-Louis Martinoty emphasizes Marguerite's inner awakening. Méphisto is with her as she takes off her robe. Mula and Alagna grope each other with  X rated realism. They sing the double duets with real relish, as if both are discovering Eros for the first time.  The film cuts to a shot of the glass dome with the jungle which was there all along side stage. A glimpse of Dürer's Adam and Eve flashes on screen, almost certainly missed live. I'm less convinced by the green light and foliage that now fill the stage but Martinoty is making a valid point. God or Devil, it's humans who make the choices.

The soldiers return from war as walking wounded, which give Gloria immortelle a poignant kick. Like Faust, Marguerite, and Siebel, they've bought into dreams.  From this point, illusions are shattered. Méphisto appears dressed as a red robed bishop, possibly on stilts, as he towers above all.  He tramples on the giant crucifix, which lowers like a drawbridge between Hell and Earth. "Marguerite, sois maudite!" intones Gay, with dark portent. The ancient goddesses rock baby pigs and owls, in a parody of Marguerite rocking her dead baby, and feast on a table that was once the Crucifix. A skeleton descends from the ceiling. "Quel etrange ornement" indeed.

Then crucifix becomes guillotine. On stage, this might have been clumsy. On film, we see the soldiers, townsfolk and sundry  personages parade in a mock religious procession - Gloire immortelle, now kinky and twisted. Then Siebel emerges, carrying Marguerite's head which gets put, not into a tumbril but into the kind of glass case with holy relics you see in hallowed sites.  She gets to Heaven though not quite in the usual way. Méphisto doesn't need to drag Faust  physically down to Hell. He merely points, and Faust meekly follows. What happens in Hades can't be much worse than damnation on earth. No wonder Fench critics weren't comfortable. But it's a valid realization of the plot.

Philippe Jordan conducts the orchestra of L'Opéra Bastille, with sardonic pungency. Definitely a whiff of sulphur here! In the love duets, the orchestra is specially verdant and romantic, but Jordan has a feel for the mad march that underlies the greater arc in the music. From the overture to the end, the pace is brisk, controlled but sharp. Mépghisto's music is particularly vivid. The staccato "footsteps" are deft, almost magical, matching Méphisto's sly, unhumorous  "Ha ! Ha ! Ha !"
 
Here is, thanks to Ddorock, the link to the broadcast  Lots more on Faust, Goethe and other Faust operas/movies on this site too, please explore.

Gounod Faust Royal Opera House - devilish !

Gounod's Faust at the Royal Opera House, London is devilishly good. Please read this review in Opera Today.

"A stellar cast — Angela Gheorghiu, Vittorio Grigolo, René Pape and Dmitri Hvorostovsky — made this a special occasion, although the production, by David McVicar, was first seen in 2004. The performance worked well because there was good integration of all elements that contribute towards operatic experience — singing, staging, acting and orchestra. Following on from the superb Puccini Il trittico (reviewed here), it made for a spectacular start to the 2011/2 season at the Royal Opera House, London."

"McVicar himself wasn’t present, but revival director Lee Blakely must have inspired the cast, for they were singing with great panache. Perhaps a little too much at times, for both Gheorghiu and Grigolo threw themselves so passionately into their parts that at times, there were weaknesses. But better this enthusiasm than technically note-perfect and dull. Faust and Marguerite don’t have Méphistophélès’s demonic powers, but they beat him in the end."

Lots more, enjoy.

Photos :  René Pape Méphistophélès’ copyright Catherine Ashmore,  Dmitri Hvorostovsky as Valentin, copyright Catherine Ashmore.

Gounod Roméo et Juliette Beczala

In many ways, Charles Gounod's Roméo et Juliette is more musical than opera. Everyone knows the story and no-one can compete with Shakespeare as dramatist. So Gounod wisely focuses on big musical showpieces. Which is why the opera's reputation is based on stellar performances, of which there are many. Last night at the Royal Opera House, Piotr Beczala sang a remarkable Roméo, beautifully toned yet with genuine personality. He's relatively new to the role, creating it at Salzburg in 2008 and repeating it there in August 2010.

Nino Machaidze sang Juliette at Salzburg, too, though earlier performances in the run featured Anna Netrebko. Beczala and Machaidze were excellent choices for this second revival of Nicholas Joel's 1994 production at the Royal Opera House.  Different staging to Salzburg, but the carry-over worked well.  There wasn't much Personienregie in Stephen Barlow's direction, and movement was staid and immobile, against a picture postcard set. It's worrying when the best direction comes in the fight scenes (Philip Stafford). However, Gounod's material doesn't lend itself to intellectual depth, so singing makes or breaks performance. Fresh from Salzburg, Beczala and Machaidze were invigorated and carried the whole production.

Beczala's Roméo defined the entire performance. Perfect pitch control. luscious timbre. Although his arias aren't all that long he creates maximum impact. Wonderful and deeply expressive L' amour, oui, son ardeur a troublé tout mon être!. The love duets were beautiful, even if Beczala overshadows Machaidze's Juliette – but that's not surprising, he's just more experienced. (as is Roméo for that matter). With Netrebko he must have been superb. In the last act, Beczala's Salut, tombeau sombre et silencieux!, beautifully modulated, emotionally profound. I loved Beczala's Shepherd in Szymanowski's Krol Roger and enjoyed hearing him develop over the years. Romantic Heroes are now his forte, but he has the depth, I think, to tackle Heldentenor territory.

Machaidze's delightful. She looks like Olivia Hussey in Franco Zeffirelli's 1968 film of Romeo and Juliet, which also adds extra piquancy to her portrayal.  Machaidze's voice is light and agile, the brightness of her timbre expressing Juliette's youthful innocence, her firm lower register expressing the depths of Juliette's character. Like many 14 year olds, Juliette does extremes, as Shakespeare observed well. Machaidze may not have the polish of many much more famous and experienced singers, but she has character. When Machaidze sings of waking too soon, holding Tybalt's blood stained hand, she sings with such fervour that you realize that this Juliette knows what risks she's taking. Sweet as she is, Machaidze's Juliette has a brain.

Performance standards all round the most enthusiastic of the season so far, barring Niobe which is specialist. Darren Jeffrey towers over everyone as Capulet, the role almost as strongly written as Roméo. Alfie Boe received a huge ovation, which he milked as if Tybalt was a principal. He's a good singer, but his fanbase will be his doom unless they take opera seriously, rather than chasing celebrity.

Ketevan Kemoklidze's Stéphano the Page was delightful. Pity the vignette about doves and vultures isn't specially relevant to the drama. Similarly, the crowd scenes, though well executed, are somewhat over-written, though here the crowds were choreographed well, fulfilling their aural purpose without distracting visually. The ROH Chorus is always good and reliable.

Full review HERE  in Opera Today, with production photos. In the meantime, there's a full downlaod of Charles Gounod Roméo et Juliette here on Opera Today. A great resource! The performance is live 1964, Franco Corelli.