Opera Today

The sigh of relief was almost audible during the short love duet after “La fleur que tu m’avais jetée”. Carmen started to strip down, fumbled a little bit with José’s pants and both started their love making. So after all, Bieito’s signature tune was being played. In reality apart from the many lewd gestures, both singers remained firmly and fully clothed. The only full nude was a male dancer during the prelude to the third act and even he was lighted in clair-obscur. Another Bieito-feature, horrible violence, was also somewhat muted. Granted, José gutted Carmen in the finale of the opera in plain sight and in the well-known way Islamists treat those poor people they can lay their hands on and therefore it was a bloody affair but still everybody knows “this is theatre”.

Janacek’s Kata Kabanova began this year’s run at the Met on Friday night with a very new cast including two important and highly successful debuts.
This is Janacek late in his career, writing on a Russian subject by the playwright Ostrovsky. His admiration for Russian culture and literature may also have led him to follow Anton Chekhov’s example — Kata moves swiftly with the sense that any extraneous word or note has been rigorously pruned away — it is an opera that speaks directly and powerfully to its audience. Last night’s audience — the Met was at least 90% full — reacted with enthusiasm that bordered on delirium when the final curtain rose again for beloved Finnish soprano Karita Mattila’s pride-of-place first solo bow.

THE slightly unsettling fervour of Wagner adepts as they look forward to the start of another Ring cycle is matched by a religious hush as we sit in the dark waiting — for a good 30 seconds — for the thing to begin. And then it does, soft, impossibly deep rumblings emerging from the void to become the longest E flat chord in history, and a single light lost in the blackness of the stage. You think: this better be good.

Kein Urweib, keine femme fatale – eine “ganzheitliche” Frau mit einem unbändigen Freiheitsdrang soll diese Carmen sein. So stellt sie sich Regisseurin Konstanze Lauterbach laut Programmheft vor. Was man auf der Bühne von Peter Schubert sieht, sind Genreszenen in einem faschistischen Land.
Das Eröffnungsbild schon zeigt einen Marktplatz, auf dem es vor lungernden Soldaten nur so wimmelt. Kinder sitzen in dem lindgrün-ockerfarbenen Geviert auf dem terrakotta-farbenen Steinfußboden für ihren Auftritt bereit. Gruppen von schwarz gekleideten Lorca-Frauen huschen über die Bühne.