Nicolas Joel’s 2016 production of Massenet’s Werther made a welcome return to Tokyo’s New National Theatre for its third revival, seen on 30 May. High expectations surrounded this revival, which featured the significant role debuts of American tenor Charles Castronovo and Japanese mezzo-soprano Aya Wakizono—dream roles for which both had prepared for nearly fifteen years (lead photo). It was heartening to see a sizeable contingent of high school students in the upper tiers; initially detached during the slow exposition, they were visibly enthralled by the intense passion of the later scenes, proving the tragedy’s enduring attraction.
Massenet’s 1892 masterpiece fundamentally re-voices Goethe’s 1774 epistolary structure, granting Charlotte a visceral voice that contrasts with the hero’s. Joel’s staging frames this action through a sombre German Lutheran lens, a strict Protestant aesthetic dictating restrained colour tones and enclosed sets; even a massive on-stage tree cannot dispel the prevailing sense of claustrophobia. Operating as a series of faithful tableaus that meticulously follow the composer’s scenic instructions—from Le Bailli’s stonework house to the authentic period furniture and book-lined study—the production offers few novel psychological insights. Yet this traditional restraint became its greatest asset: defying ego-driven directorial interventions, Joel’s understated framework offers an uncluttered, supportive space where the performers can focus entirely on their vocal and dramatic artistry.
Endowed with natural stage elegance, Castronovo’s Werther was an intelligent, deeply sympathetic poet. His entrance aria, ‘Je ne sais si je veille ou si je rêve encore!’, was delivered with beautiful simplicity—the soft phrasing of ‘a l’air d’un paradis’ proving truly memorable. His burgeoning feelings for Charlotte, intertwined with the hypnotic moonlight music, were persuasively drawn, while his subsequent outburst, ‘Un autre! son époux!’, struck like a thunderbolt as the orchestra exposed his obsession. Though his high B-natural during Act II’s invocation of death was a shade overshadowed by the orchestration, his trajectory from the Ossian verses onward was masterful. Sung with poetic passion and flowing evenly through the registers, his ‘Pourquoi me réveiller?’ achieved its climactic notes with grace and ease. Triggering tumultuous applause, it sustained a dramatic fervour that grew exponentially; the rapport between the leads was palpable throughout, culminating in a final act so deeply moving it reduced many in the audience to tears.
Celebrated for her Rossini roles and expanding French repertory, Wakizono enamoured the audience with her warm, velvety timbre and captivating stage presence. Her richly nuanced middle register suited the role perfectly, and she is a brilliant singing actress. This was most notable in the demanding letter scene: initially reclining on the divan, her breathtakingly resonant monosyllables, ‘Werther… Werther…’, opened Act III with thrilling expectation, transforming the scene into an arresting solo tour de force. Later, her well-controlled upper register in ‘O Charlotte, et tu frémiras!’ soared over the howling orchestra. Her desperate plea to God, followed by an incredibly intense encounter with Werther, was undoubtedly the afternoon’s highlight.
As Sophie, Charlotte’s younger sister, Airi Sunada impressed with a bright, well-projected voice and charming stage presence. Embodying the spontaneity and innocence of youth, her messa di voce in the second ‘Tout le monde est heureux!’ was exquisite. In the thankless role of Albert, veteran baritone Shingo Sudo gave a responsible, assured performance. Bass Takayuki Ito brought a warm timbre suited to the benevolent Bailli, whilst Kota Murakami (Schmidt) and Toshiaki Komada (Johann) delivered reliable comic relief. However, all three men would benefit from more rigorous attention to French diction. The children of the Setagaya Junior Chorus were impeccably prepared.
Last but by no means least, Andriy Yurkevych and the Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra yielded a consummate rendering of Massenet’s luminous score. If the opening prelude lacked the menace required for Werther’s maniac, descending basslines, that darkness was masterfully deferred to the final acts. The solo cello deserves special mention for introducing Werther’s entrance aria and the moonlight music with restrained eloquence. Free from visual distraction thanks to Joel’s understated, unstaged preludes and interludes, the audience could fully immerse themselves in Massenet’s rich leitmotifs, from the Bailli’s rustic drinking music to Charlotte’s warm, rising theme. It was a triumph of musical storytelling, proving that when such exceptional vocal artistry is met by an equally inspired pit, Massenet’s tragedy achieves its full, devastating power.
Natsuko Hirakura
Cast and Production Staff:
Werther – Charles Castronovo; Charlotte – Aya Wakizono; Albert – Shingo Sudo; Sophie – Airi Sunada; Le Bailli – Takayuki Ito; Schmidt – Kota Murakami; Johann – Toshiaki Komada; Brühlmann – Yu Mizuno; Kätchen – Ryoko Koinuma
Production – Nicolas Joel; Set Design – Emmanuelle Favre; Costume Design – Katia Duflot; Lighting Design – Vinicio Cheli; Tokyo Philharmonic Orchestra and New National Theatre Chorus, Setagaya Junior Chorus, Conductor – Andriy Yurkevych
New National Theatre Tokyo, 30 May 2026
All photos © Rikimaru Hotta