Premiered at the Opéra-Comique in Paris in 1902 and closely based on Maurice Maeterlinck’s play, Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande is renowned for its collision between “its severest realism and the most impalpable dream world”, (Pierre Boulez). Its shadowy setting framing the plot’s love triangle is soaked in an illusory, mysterious atmosphere. I use the word ‘soaked’ deliberately, as this new production from the Canadian Lebanese director Wajdi Mouawad makes much use of flowing imagery, none more obviously than in Stephanie Jasmin’s video projections of fountains and waterfalls.
Back in 1997, Bob Wilson’s staging of Pelléas may have left a strong impression, but there is much to admire in this new creation from Mouawad where nothing is quite what it seems. If it holds true to the ideals of the symbolists, with their emphasis on allusion and ambiguity, these qualities are underlined by Emmanuelle Clolus’s sets which conjure a kind of Neverland, a mythical realm of suggestion with little sense of anything concrete. There’s no forbidding castle in the quasi-medieval kingdom of Allemonde, no palatial grounds or distant seashore. Instead, a mostly empty stage is divided into three horizontal plains, backed by a diaphanous curtain of rippling threads (presumably to suggest Mélisande’s hair as much as the ill-defined space between dreams and reality) through which the principal characters glide in and out. Above the stage, a wide panel, with all the semblance of a cinema screen, brings images of caves, forests, with tumbling water a recurring presence.
Mouawad’s tints and shadows, evocatively lit by Eric Champoux, arguably reference the spirit of the original fin de siècle production, and here are set in motion by the sound of a solitary woodpecker and a wounded boar labouring across the stage. Later, we see Golaud’s horse (gratuitously dismembered) and a trio of old timers. We are, however, spared the flock of sheep that once graced a celebrated Welsh National Opera production. By far the most original stroke from Mouawad is reserved for the final scene, where Mélisande and Pelléas (now united in death) are prepared and attired for the afterlife in robes that appear to be fashioned from natural fibres and flowers. Here is ambiguity taken to another level, one suggesting the two central characters are being regenerated into some unknown and mystical biosphere – an imaginative leap that may confound viewers.
However, our principal interest is following the developing interactions from an international cast that includes Canadian bass-baritone Gordon Bintner (Golaud), Welsh baritone Huw Montague Rendall (Pelléas) and French soprano Sabine Devieilhe (Mélisande). From the opening poolside encounter with Mélisande, Binter imposes vocally with his bronzed timbre that initially suggests a powerful charm. This soon gives way to undisguised menace, with increasingly moody and later confrontational interactions with his half-brother Pelléas, his own wife and his young son Yniold when questioning him about his wife’s relationship with Pelléas.
Devieilhe’s Mélisande is as near to perfection as one might wish for: a voice of exquisite beauty and sung as if the role had been written especially for her. While she may have looked like a lost soul reminiscent of a Pre-Raphaelite damsel, her delicate features give rise to a purposely portrayal. Often perceived as a slight, unfathomable melancholic, this Mélisande makes clear her designs on Pelléas with meaningful glances, expressing them with rapt intensity notably in the Tower scene of Act 3 where swirling images of her hair almost become a distraction, as too the puppet-like movements of the two lovers. Devieilhe is well matched by Montague Rendall whose ample baritone has warmth and richness, and his exchanges with Golaud are as sullen as those with Mélisande are blissful.
Elsewhere, the sonorous bass Jean Teitgen is a dignified and tender Arkel, though his inert stage presence suggests emotional detachment (further ambiguity perhaps?), hinting at a dysfunctional family. No less static or impassive is Sophie Koch as Geneviève, struggling on opening night it seemed with a cold, and certainly if her low notes were anything to judge. To complete the cast were an unnamed and very able soloist from Maîtrise de Radio France and Amin Ahangaran as a warmly sympathetic Doctor.
In the pit, Italian conductor Antonello Manacorda brings a remarkable finesse to Debussy’s score, alert to balance and subtle shadings, and unfailingly attentive to the purely orchestral interludes where his pacing is superb. This is overall a brilliantly involving production, both mesmerising and puzzling, but superbly served by some outstanding singing and playing.
David Truslove
Pelléas et Mélisande
Composed by Claude Debussy
Libretto based on the play of the same name by Maurice Maeterlinck
Cast and production staff:
Pelléas – Hugh Montague Rendall; Mélisande – Sabine Devieilhe; Golaud – Gordon Bintner; Arkel – Jean Teitgen; Geneviève – Sophie Koch; Yniold – Soloist from Maîtrise de Radio France; Doctor – Amin Ahangaran
Director – Wajdi Mouawad; Set design – Emmanuelle Clolus; Lighting – Eric Champoux; Video – Stephanie Jasmin; Dramaturgy – Charlotte Farcet; Orchestre et Choeur de l’Opéra national de Paris; Conductor – Antonello Manacorda.
Opéra Bastille, Paris, 28 February 2025
Top image: Sabine Devieilhe (Mélisande)
Photos: © Benoîte Fanton