Foto: Wilfried Hösl
Suzanne Daumann
In this new production
of the Munich Staatsoper, stage director Philipp Stölzl situated the action in
its historical context, but his lookout on the work and its protagonists was
that of today. The set juxtaposed „Upstairs Downstairs“ situations, and when we
saw, in the first tableau, the servants live out their miserable downstairs
lives, those downstairs quarters, cramped and low, prefigured the dungeons of
the Revolution. Champagne-colored gowns
and tapestries, upstairs everything was light and bright and warm, whereas
downstairs everything was dark and dreary; the Comtesse de Coigny, affected and
majestic as they come, sung and played with spirit and conviction by Doris
Soffel - everything spoke of noble idleness and exploitation. Andrea Chénier,
the poet, and the young countess Maddalena didn’t quite fit in. Costume-wise and
in thought and word: He wore a somewhat worn-out suit, she a simple white
dress; he expressed behind his poetry thoughts that showed a political
conscience, she had a vague longing for freedom, at least freedom from
straight-laced gowns and finery. It was this vague similarity of ideas that
sparked the subsequent improbable love story. Their story was only one part of
the historical panorama that this work presented. And so in the second tableau
we found ourselves in Paris, in the middle of the Robbespierre’s Terror. The
stage showed simultaneously the streets of Paris, a brothel, one of the
downstairs rooms was a lazaret and the other one Andrea Chénier’s abode. The erstwhile servant Carlo Gérard turned out
to be the real protagonist of the story: having become Robbespierre’ right
hand, he had his spies look out for Maddalena with whom he had always been
secretly in love, and Chénier whom he
suspected of revolutionary heresy. Having got hurt by Chénier in a duel, he
protected him, however, saving his life for the time being. When Maddalena
later on offered him her virtue in exchange for Chénier’s freedom, he gave up
her designs on her. Chénier was sentenced to death all the same and Maddalena
decided to die with him. A number of secondary characters gravitated around
these three, the most impressive of them was „the old Madelon“, an old woman
who had lost almost all of her family and yet sacrificed her last grandson, a
youth of 15, to the Revolution army. Elena Zilio interpreted her touching aria
with so much conviction and almost-tears in her voice that every mother’s of
son’s heart in the hall got a bit broken, and we had to think of all the
mothers of all those sacrificed sons, today and in the past. Ambrogio Maestri
took on the part of Gérard, replacing Luca Salsi, and he was magnificent. With
his warm and smooth generous baritone voice and perfect intonation, he
interpreted perfectly this anti-Scarpia in his development and his
contradictions. The queen of the evening was the young countess Maddalena, Anja
Harteros. She sang the arias and duets with so much innocent power, her warm
and sweet voice followed the melodic lines with so much ease and grace that the
thundering bravos were very largely
deserved. Jonas Kaufmann in the role of Andrea Chénier was not in his best form
tonight. He played his part to perfection, as always, but he seemed a bit
tired, his play was a tiny bit routine, and if his pianissimi were fine and
tense as always, he seemed a bit strained in the forte. The orchestra somewhat
drowning out the singers, especially in the first part, didn’t really help
either. Jonas Kaufmann is Jonas Kaufmann is Jonas Kaufmann, and the Munich
public’s white-headed boy got the acclaim he deserved. Omer Meir Wellber, once
the music gave him a chance, turned out to be an attentive conductor full of
energy, highlighting many a detail of a score that otherwise is mostly
functional. A lovely production, where everything worked
together, a lovely Munich evening. Bravi tutti!