I didn't know this opera at all four months ago. So it was little short of lunacy to book myself, and then also Jimmy, a ticket, to go and see it, not at the opera house a bus ride away, but at one three and a half thousand miles away. As it happened, I already had a DVD, purchased as part of the seemingly ongoing Del Prado part works of Opera on DVD. Plus, I had also purchased a ticket for the Royal Opera house's production (jointly with Chicago and San Francisco) of the same opera, with some of the same cast, but not, crucially Oreste.
So, by the time the Met production opened I was not entirely unfamiliar with the opera, having in the interim downloaded two more recordings off t'internet. I did consider listening to the opening night over the web, but it was on at 1 am my time, midweek, at a time when my body was instructing me to go to bed at 8 pm (and then wake up at 5 am, but never mind that...), and there seems to be no way to set up a timed recording from the Met's streaming. So, it was only five days before Departure Day that I got to listen to this particular version, when it was broadcast on various radio stations, including BBC Radio 3 as part of the Met Broadcast season. And then I couldn't stop listening over and over again. There is a fundamental flaw in repeat listenings to a live recording, mainly that every mis-step is implanted in the brain just as surely as the music. By mis-step I mean all the things picked up by the, reportedly, very close miking, including the wheezing of the conductor, the overloud prompter, stage noise, audience noise and so on. At least I was able to satisfy myself that it was likely to be a very good performance, at least vocally, although considering the situation of my seat I was a bit worried that things like the wheezing conductor and shouting prompter might encroach on my ears, live. I also already knew that this was going to be no period interpretation, unlike at Covent Garden when it was the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment playing on proper old-fashioned instruments. In actual fact, the presence of modern instruments bothered me less in practice than it did in theory, with the strings in particular giving a vigorous work-out and abandoning the slushy 19th century approach. I did miss the period oboe though, at one key point.
I have to confess that I am thoroughly confused about the difference between the versions for Oreste as a baritone and as a tenor, and short of sitting down with both scores, or playing excerpts, almost phrase for phrase, I don't think I can work it out. Still, with baritone Keenlyside straying into tenor rep, and tenor Domingo veering to baritone, I would love to have an analysis of the crucial differences between their respective fachs.
So, I arrived at the Metropolitan Opera House at Lincoln Center NY NY way way too early but in plenty of time to pick up tickets (and additionally purchase more for the next day's Romeo et Juliette). I took my seat just minutes before the curtain was due to go up,. becoming increasingly excited, and also nervous. But so far, no suggestion that he would cancel, and why should he, but you know, I live in fear of sod's law. I assess my seat, Row A of Orchestra, not bad, not bad at all. A bit to the left, which was slightly disappointing, but I had perfect sight lines. I was next to the double basses and in line with the harpsichord.
The curtain rose, for some reason it was a red curtain, not the usual mustard-coloured one that is so familiar from videos and they seem to insist on calling 'gold'. I was utterly disappointed at the total absence of Applause for the Scenery, despite me being in the opera house that is known internationally as The Place Where They Applaud the Scenery. There are some wonderful photographs of the production which, together with the recording of the Met broadcast, will serve as a memento. To me it's a crying shame that this wonderful performance was omitted from the simulcast schedule and thus not committed to video. I see no indication whatsoever that Plácido is going to sing this role again, anywhere, but I fervently hope he does, and preferably in Europe.
I have now reached the stage where I think that this opera is quite possibly up there in my Top Ten. I am so very unfamiliar with the work of Gluck - a couple of years ago I attended the (would you believe it?) UK premier of his La Clemenza di Tito and was stunned by its gorgeousness. But Iphigenie en Tauride is even more gorgeous. I would go so far as to say that Act II is as good as any other act in any other opera.
Of course, there is a clue in the title as to who the main character is, Iphigenie, played by Susan Graham, who never left the stage during the entire performance. The other two main characters are Pylade (tenor, Paul Groves) and Oreste (baritone, tenor,whatever, Plácido Domingo). And there are some other minor characters, too.
So, the set was divided into three. Approximately two-thirds consisted of the temple, with an altar and a statue of Diana dominating, this is where the action in Act I and for most of Acts III and IV happened. Another approximate third, which was in front of me,was the prison cell where I ought to have known Oreste and Pylade would be held. The balance was to my extreme left and seemed to serve no purpose except as a place where guards and dancers etc distracted from the main action.
It was not actually until Act II, when the blokes were flung into jail that it suddenly dawned on me - directly in front of me, not more than a few feet away, my view totally unrestricted , Plácido Domingo was singing whilst rolling around the floor in chains. I'm not a bondage freak by any means, but trust me, opera doesn't get any better than that (insert big grin!). Remember, I was on Row A of Orchestra. This was pretty much the view I got. He spent a lot of time rolling around on the floor, falling to the floor, and on his knees on the floor. Looking at him throwing himself round stage, and, especially, listening to this unbelievably gorgeous voice, I did have this thought 'I can't believe he's 67 next month' and then I thought 'so what, just enjoy what is before your eyes and ears'. And actually, as is so often the case, I didn't really spend a lot of time thinking 'That's Plácido Domingo right in front of me' compared to the amount of time I was thinking 'This Oreste is bloody good'. And time and again it happens, despite me being so familiar with his voice, I hear a sound that is breathtaking in its beauty, a phrase that makes me subconsciously think 'does singing get any more beautiful than this?'. Not that he was going for constant beauty of tone; there was as much drama as beauty. Especially in the Mad Scene when he's being played by Klytemnestra's Furies. (Jimmy said he was wearing kneepads, I can't say I noticed but Jimmy is motivated by grudge or jealousy or something...). I have to say though, that I was concerned about his chest hair. I wasn't sure whether he had shaved it, or covered it with lots of make up, but it didn't seem as prominent as it had done in Die Walkure or, indeed, in the photos on the Met site (which I guess were taken at the Dress Rehearsal).
Impressed as I was by Plácido, it would not be fair to attend this and not heap praise on Susan Graham. Once or twice, it seemed that she was struggling to hit a couple of high notes, but that didn't in anyway diminish a wonderful performance, vocally and dramatically. Fiendishly difficult passages, a range of emotions coming out in her vocal acting, and an utterly convincing stage performance that never had me thinking 'that's Susan Graham' but always 'Iphigénie'. And Paul Groves also gave an excellent performance, a sweet voice, and whilst not an overwhelming stage presence, he certainly impressed.
Also worth mentioning was Diana as played by Michele Losier. Completely stunning in appearance, she had two moments in the opera, at the start and at the end. Both times she descended to the stage on a wire, the first time, she managed to take Iphigenie away with her (as they flashed back to events fifteen years earlier) and at the end she got to fondle Oreste, not that I was jealous, of course not. She sounded good and looked stunning, a bit Goth in her get-up and drop dead gorgeous. Jimmy claims that at the curtain call, Plácido grabbed her, but I think he's just making that up, motivated by grudge and jealousy, because I never noticed and I didn't take my eyes off Plácido in the curtain call.
The low point of the opera was the choreography of the dance in between Acts I and II. At one stage it seemed like the bastard offspring of the worst of Cossack dancing and the best of morris dancing, if that doesn't imply that Morris dancing has a 'best', which it doesn't. That was a shame because the personenregie was excellent (helped no doubt by the presence of excellent acting singers).
Although I was disappointed by the absence of Scenery Applause, I was delighted that a smattering of people in the audience applauded when Plácido made his entrance, regardless of the through-composed nature of the opera. Because that's another thing 'they' do at the Met - but I was a bit disappointed it was isolated culprits, not the audience as a whole ;-)
I didn't go backstage or whatever to meet Plácido afterwards. I had thought about it and decided not to, despite so many people saying that he would be delighted to see me, having travelled from London. It struck me after Die Walkure that there's actually a conflict in my mind. Seeing him on stage, not just because he's so good in that particular performance, but because of his legendary status, is a special treat. However, because he is such an approachable, down-to-earth, likeable person, with a total absence of divo mannerisms, it almost breaks the spell of him being a Legend, because he doesn't have the attitude of a Legend.
Particularly because I was in a strange city and a strange opera house, I thought it would be nice, for a change, to be in a position where he's not that nice man who is so approachable and affable post-performance but an exalted Legend appearing at the Exotic and Legendary Metropolitan Opera House. I would respect and like him less if he was any different personality-wise, yet conversely, because he's so nice, it does break the spell of the performance slightly. It even struck me the next day, when he took to the podium to conduct, appearing avuncular or maybe grandfatherly was a big big contrast from how I had previously seen him, as a warrior king (albeit in a dodgy wig).
I realise that this review is impressionistic. It's difficult to remember every detail, now at eight days' remove, and on just one viewing. I am terribly disappointed that this won't be available on video. I don't think I shall ever forget the impact of the performance, but with the inevitable ravishes of time, the clarity of my memory will fade. I suppose it was a pretty brave decision of him to take a new route in his career like this. He has nothing to prove, and potentially a lot to lose. But it was also a clever decision, I think the role suited his voice perfectly and his dramatic impersonation was lacking nothing. I realise it's entirely unfair to make comparisons with Simon Keenlyside, who was obviously under the weather when I saw him in this, but of the two performances, I would rate Plácido's above Simon's.
IPHIGÉNIE EN TAURIDE {11}
C. W. Gluck-Guillard
Iphigénie...............Susan Graham
Oreste..................Plácido Domingo
Pylade..................Paul Groves
Thoas...................William Shimell
Diane...................Michele Losier
First Priestess.........Lisette Oropesa
Second Priestess........Sasha Cooke
Scythian Minister.......David Won
Clytemnestre............Jacqueline Antaramian
Agamemnon...............Mark Capri
Glenn Lewis: Harpsichord
Conductor...............Louis Langrée
Production..............Stephen Wadsworth
Set Designer............Thomas Lynch
Costume designer........Martin Pakledinaz
Lighting Designer.......Neil Peter Jampolis
Choreographer...........Daniel Pelzig
