The Independent and Times have rushed out reviews of Last Night's Cyrano. Update: Further reviews have been added to this post.
Domingo pushes back the years to keep his nose ahead of the field
But the little-known opera in which Domingo has chosen to star at Covent Garden showcases him in cruelly sharp focus: not only is his voice exposed, but also the state of his physique. Fencing at full tilt while simultaneously singing your heart out is not the kindest way to treat yourself at the ripe old age of 65...
...When Domingo comes on he's unrecognisable - straggly locks, sunken cheeks, drooping beak, a drowned-rat version of the swashbuckling musketeers who throng the stage in the pullulating opening tableau of Francesca Zambello's production. But as soon as he opens his mouth you know it's him: his voice still has that marvellous freshness and focus. And when he starts to fence and declaim, he seems deft and nimble: a theatrical illusion fostered by the deftness going on all round him...
...His little gasps of dismay as his beloved Roxane reveals her love for Christian are oddly moving; when he takes the young stumblebum she loves in hand (nicely incarnated by Raymond Very), his magnanimity becomes heart-rending. But the triangular love-scene which concludes the first half of the evening takes off like a rocket, as Cyrano's promptings are transmuted from conventional platitudes to words from the heart: for a few magical minutes...
...When the denouement came, it rose once more to the occasion - as did Domingo. All the mildly risible Les Mis moments elsewhere were forgotten, as, bleeding from his mortal wound, his voice, gestures and body language all bespoke the suppressed passion of a lifetime. This was high tragedy, conveyed with total conviction.
Domingo recently told this newspaper that he didn't expect to be treading the boards at 70. I would put money on him doing just that.
If the poet with the prodigious proboscis does turn out to be the 65-year-old Plácido Domingos last new role with the Royal Opera, the tenor will have signed out with grace, lyrical ardour and even a modest flourish of swashbuckling swordsmanship.
Domingos acting has always been several cuts above the norm for operatic superstars (admittedly not a very testing benchmark). Here he is mesmerising as the ugly-mugged but noble-hearted hero who concocts impassioned letters to the lovely Roxanne not on his own behalf, but to plead the cause of his friend handsome but dim Christian.
The tenor gets a wonderfully wry love duet by proxy, and a great death-scene exhaustingly prolonged in best operatic tradition. Domingo delivers it all with understated pathos and, at the end, a touching, autumnal vulnerability. The voice may have lost power, but not its dark lustre. The artistry is undimmed.
Without Domingo it would be a supremely silly night. With him, its just about worthwhile. By a nose, you might say.
The Financial Times absolutely hates the opera but says:
Domingo was marvellous in (the death scene), capturing the autumnal resignation of poor, unloved Cyrano to perfection. But then he had given his all throughout. A tenor half his age might balk at having to engage in a sword- fight through his opening aria, but Domingo husbands his top notes and swashbuckles with the best of them, holding his own against the searingly strong soprano of Sondra Radvanovskys Roxane and trumping his rival, Raymond Verys cleanly sung Christian, in the personality stakes.
From the moment Domingo makes his first entrance - preceded by a gigantic prosthetic proboscis - he commands the stage with his usual magnetic presence, duelling his way through the first act, and composing artful, poetic ballads as he cuts a swathe through 17th-century Parisian aristocracy. His voice may not have the same consistent power that it used to but he reserves his most intoxicating, ringing tone for Alfano's most lyrical vocal lines: his first declaration of his love for his cousin, Roxane, or his paean to the Gascon cadets in the second.
The fourth act is the most impressive of all, both from Alfano and Domingo. The music, with its echoes of Debussy and Ravel, is full of elusive harmony and is scored with real finesse, an atmosphere superbly caught by conductor Mark Elder and the Royal Opera House Orchestra. Domingo's portrayal of the older, dying Cyrano has tremendous dignity; his voice captures Cyrano's vulnerability as he confesses to Roxane that it was he who wrote the letters that she fell in love with. It may not be a masterpiece, but Alfano could not be better served than by this production.
Domingo Triumphs in `Cyrano de Bergerac' at Royal Opera House
The opera stands or falls on the performance of the tenor singing Cyrano, and in this respect Domingo is the production's greatest asset. His voice is as beautiful as ever, full-bodied and shining, and he captures the heroic swagger and painful vulnerability of a man tormented by his own ugliness. He even handles the sword fighting with a swing.
The production has sold out, and the lines for returns stretch around the block. If you have an arm and a leg to spare, you could try the ticket touts. Otherwise, if you get up early and want to brave the crowds there are 67 seats available from 10 a.m. on the day. Set the alarm. It's worth it.
At 65, Domingo in no mood for swan song
Although the tenor recently said he had two to three years left of singing, after a rousing reception at London's Covent Garden late on Monday he avoided naming a date.
"Nobody knows," Domingo told Reuters in a backstage interview after the performance.
"When I feel like I feel tonight, I don't have to worry for the time being," he said, removing his giant stage nose for which the character of Cyrano is famous.
