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By Joel Kasow
PARIS, 10 December 2002 - When World War II broke out,
many composers were forced to seek exile far from Europe. Many chose
the United States of America where their careers continued to
progress, mostly because they were already well-established:
Stravinsky, Schoenberg, Weill, Martinu, to name but a few. Others
languished in semi-obscurity as their fame was already waning, the
classic example being Alexander von Zemlinsky. Zemlinsky was a
contemporary of Arnold Schoenberg; they had been brothers-in-law at
one time, as well as friends and, in fact, Zemlinsky had taught
Schoenberg. On a number of occasions, the latter was known to have
said that the almost-forgotten Zemlinsky's time would come. Thanks to
the work of Anthony Beaumont, Gerd Albrecht and James Conlon, an
ever-increasing audience is aware of Zemlinsky's not inconsiderable
qualities.
Bohuslav Martinu was more fortunate, arriving on
a crest that did not diminish during his American years. The fact that
he was twenty years younger than Zemlinsky may also have assisted in
his adaptation to new circumstances; moreover, he had already spent a
large part of his life in France. Upon arrival, commissions flowed in
his direction as did teaching assignments. The composer even became an
American citizen in 1946. Juliette ou la Clé des Songes
had previously been heard in France in concert in the early 1960s
(performance available on CD) with staged performances in the 1970s,
and now for the first time at the Opéra National de Paris (22
November).
For the first time in many years, the Opéra
has mounted a production that is totally in synch with the work,
capturing the essence of Georges Neveux's surrealist drama. It is
unfortunate that about a quarter of an hour was cut from a work of
normal proportions, while we must assume that the now-surpassed
translation, credited in the program, was chosen in preference to the
composer's own French version that has only recently become available.
These two quibbles aside, director Richard Jones and designer Antony
McDonald have finally found a work that brings out their best
qualities, even though they found it necessary to change the sex of
the Chiromancien, thereby providing Michèle Lagrange with an
amusing turn.
 Le
bureau des rêves from Juliette ou la Clé des Songes Photo:
Eric Mahoudeau
Taking the presence of an
accordion in the orchestra pit as a starting point, the set decoration
is a large accordion seen from various angles in each of the acts,
opening out to an enchanted forest for Act 2, the keyboard of the
accordion downstage as the floor of the forest and the bellows framing
the sides. The dream-like elements of the work are never flouted, the
entire cast never sets a foot wrong, never acknowledges the audience,
other than when required on one occasion.
Alexia Cousin in
the title role showed that she is more than capable of sustaining such
a burden, even though it is William Burden as Michel who in fact has
considerably more to do, so that untraditionally it is he who takes
the final bow during the curtain calls. Burden's light tenor, pleasant
in timbre, was occasionally overpowered by Marc Albrecht's often
over-enthusiastic direction of the orchestra. The remaining roles are
episodic, with several singers reappearing in various guises, all
excellent: Laurent Naouri, Alain Vernhes, Karine Deshayes, Christian
Tréguier, Michèle Lagrange, Martine Mahé.

Michel (William Burden) et Juliette (Alexia Cousin) in Juliette ou
la Clé des Songes Photo: Eric Mahoudeau
A Zemlinsky-Wilde
double-bill of Der Zwerg and Eine florentinische Tragödie
(21 November) offered a schizophrenic experience: producer-designer
Pierre Strosser used the same set for both operas, a large panelled
hall seen on a bias, with costumes of perhaps the Wildean era for the
former (quite successful except that the Infanta was indistinguishable
from her companions) and contemporary dress for the latter (less
successful because the producer eliminated any ambiguity with his
proto-Tennessee Williams approach). And it is that which left such a
bad impression at the end of an evening that had gotten off to such a
good start. Strosser seemed to get pleasure from showing us Simone
returning home to find Bianca in the process of getting dressed, Guido
strutting around in his tee-shirt, with Bianca ignoring every one of
Simone's orders.
The stage action was often meaningless in
terms of the dialogue, but then perhaps Strosser was emulating the
Siegfried-Mime scene. Fortunately, a high musical standard was
maintained throughout, thanks to Armin Jordan and the Orchestre de la
Suisse Romande. Elzbieta Szmytka's Infanta was perhaps too
sophisticated but her voice soared continually, as did that of Iride
Martinez (Ghita). David Kuebler crept around on his knees in the title
role, one he knows inside out; unfortunately, some of the climaxes
are now too much for him. Detlef Roth as the Major-Domo was not always
audible.
In Florentinische Tragödie Simone
sings far more than his two partners, and Pavlo Hunka (looking like
Willy Loman) had little trouble sustaining his difficult role. Victor
Lutsiuk (Guido) occasionally offered tremulous tones while parading
around like a peacock. Fredrika Brillembourg made the most of her few
opportunities, but presumably her bored stance was what the producer
wanted.
Joel
Kasow is the Operanet editor of Culturekiosque.com..
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