Suzanne Daumann
Smetana’s opera was written
in 1873/74 and one really wonders, on seeing this wonderfully witty, playful
and yet deep work, how it is possible that it is being produced in France for the
first time only now, in 2012. Especially since the libretto by Emmanuel Züngel
is based on a play by French playwright Mallefille. If I were more of a
feminist, or given to conspiracy theories, the answer would be easy: the main
characters of this piece are women, are two widows, and one of them clearly
enjoys her single state and refuses to remarry in order to stay free. Jo Davies has set her production in the
years after the first World War. A very fine black and white video installation
by Andrezej Goulding, that
faithfully follows Smetana’s overture, shows proud aviators and tragic events,
so we know that Karolina’s and Anezka’s husbands have died during the war, but
we do not know how long ago that was, nor how their relationships were before
the war. We soon find out, however, how the two woman deal with their
situation: Act I opens on a beautiful salon, 19th century furniture,
consisting mainly of a desk, a sofa and a long dining table, blue leaf-
patterned wallpaper, a stag’s head over one of the three doors and a spiral staircase
to the right, these are the main elements and the whole piece will be played
out in this set. On the sofa, a human figure is lying still, covered by a
blanket. The servants come and go, rejoicing in the coming harvest festival.
Karolina comes in and sitting down at the dining table and taking her
breakfast, sings her joy about her life as the free mistress of her domain and
her servants, ready to join in their harvest festival. Lenka Macikova is simply splendid in this part, her silvery soprano
and vivacious personality are the very embodiment of the wit and irony of
Karolina. The covered person on the sofa now turns out to be her cousin,
Anežka. She is wearing black, and in fact is still mourning her husband. Or if
she isn’t, at least she doesn’t seem to allow herself Karolina’s joy of life.
Sophie Angebault, lovely soprano
tainted with gold and melancholy, conveys, along with the music, the impression
that her affliction is maybe a bit more due to convention than to personal
feelings. No time is lost however in reflections of that kind. Smetana’s opera,
full of Slavic charm and polka, is led along with almost devilish drive and
force by the Orchestre National des Pays de la Loire , conducted by Mark Shanahan. And now comes Mumlal, the gamekeeper, come to
complain about an especially obnoxious poacher. I have to admit that he was
almost my favourite character of the opera. Whoever loves Mozart’s Antonio and
is frustrated to get so little of his views on life will be rewarded with
Mumlal. Interpreted with happy abandon and a velvety growling bass, supply and
subtly by Ante Jerkunika, Mumlal is
the bass part of the vocal quartet (the tenor is not far now!) and also the
personification of the humour and irony that are so present throughout in the
music. Karolina sends him to catch the intruder who comes along quite docilely.
In fact he is a young neighbour, Ladislav Podhàjský, and Karolina understands
soon enough that he has been roaming the grounds in order to see Anežka,
because he is in love with her. He is the romantic lover and of course he is
the tenor. Aleš Briscein interprets
the part with a beautifully clear warm strong voice, unwavering on the narrow
line between sincerity and irony. Karolina sees through him right away and, as
mistress of the grounds, condemns him to a fine and a time of imprisonment in her
house. He retires to his room and everybody sings an ode to love. In Act II,
Karolina and Anežka are discussing Ladislav Podhàjsky. Anežka wants him gone
and Karolina wants her to marry him. Ladislav finally manages to declare his
love to Anežka, but she turns him down. Karolina goes to the servants’ ball
with Ladislav and after a few detours through jealousy and misunderstandings,
Ladislav and Anežka will be happily united. We learn now that Anežka has loved
him for longer than conventions would allow it, for she has been in love with
him already when her husband was alive. Everybody rejoices and a lively polka
ends the piece.Applause, well-earned
applause for everyone: Bedrich Smetana for his wonderful opera, and his fine
and witty music that is so entertaining and amusing and yet never shallow. Deep
feelings are lying under the surface, never far away, but are hardly ever
openly expressed. Like the light filtering in through the large French windows
(Simon Corder is responsible for the lighting and a fine job he does), so love
and regrets sometimes filter through the irony of the music, especially at the
very end of Act I. In Act II it is the other way round, love and longing are
everywhere, but always tempered by the subtle shade of wit and irony. Thundering applause for Anger
Nantes Opéra, for bringing this lovely work to life and back to France – may it
be taken up again and again everywhere and all the time! And bravos and thanks to the
whole cast and crew for a most enjoyable evening!
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