Strauss - Die Frau ohne Schatten, in concert

Théâtre des Champs Elysées, Monday February 17 2020

Conductor: Yannick Nézet-Séguin. Dyer's Wife: Lise Lindstrom. Nurse: Michaela Schuster. Empress: Elza van den Heever. Emperor: Stephen Gould. Barak, Dyer: Michael Volle. Voice of a Falcon: Katrien Baerts. Apparition of a Youth: Bror Magnus Tødenes. Hunchback: Andreas Conrad. One-Eyed Man: Michael Wilmering. Messenger of Keikobad: Thomas Oliemans. One-Armed Man: Nathan Berg. Rotterdams Philharmonisch Orkest. Rotterdam Symphony Chorus. Maîtrise de Radio France. 

A late friend of mine, who hated opera with a single exception, Carmen, wondered why composers he liked (Strauss was one) did them. He concluded that once they'd nailed overtures, concerti, quartets, symphonies and symphonic poems, they turned to opera to meet their need for even bigger, more complex challenges to their skills. (It was the same friend who told me the string parts of Daphne were 'needlessly difficult.') Die Frau ohne Schatten is surely one of the biggest and most complex works in the operatic repertoire and, though à l'impossible nul n'est tenu, makes near-impossible demands on everyone involved.

Nevertheless, like Everest, people still have a go at it, and Monday's concert was a rare triumph for all the cast. Even at the end of act one, our old pal the bravo-guy ejaculated loudly a mere millisecond after the music stopped, leading to some shushing; as the lights went down after the firstt interval for act two, a heckler called on him from the balcony to can it for the rest of the evening, which he did. At the end, after a long silence, there was a loud ovation - a standing one, even, in the box next to me, but as that had the conductor's husband and entourage in it, perhaps it was gagné d'avance.

Yannick Nézet-Seguin's Frau is vibrant, energetic, detailed, colourful, theatrical, '20th century' and as such radically different from the plush, polished, velvety, well-upholstered, symphonic finish of someone like Thielemann. The Canadian's vivid approach probably plays to the particular strengths of the Rotterdam orchestra, which is not the BPO, VPO... or the Concertgebouw (less searing sustaining power in the strings, less 'deluxe' sound all round...). This may explain why he and they spent ten years together, or be a logical result of it, or both. The only caveat I'd have is that I never felt I was actually hearing a real piano or pianissimo, just mf and above, until act three, when Michael Volle's magical, almost whispered singing made it a necessity. I sometimes wonder if, being used these days to giant auditoria, conductors forget that in smaller houses they could actually indulge in softer, subtler playing.

Strauss

I've seen Die Frau number of times and heard some memorable performances of one role or another, but I don't recall any of the casts' being quite as consistently impressive and evenly-matched as here: there was nothing like a 'weak link'. As various reviewers have noted, even the Youth and the Messenger were startlingly well-cast for such brief parts. I'd certainly like to hear more, in particular, of Bror Magnus Tødenes, already noticed last year as Hylas in Les Troyens at the Bastille.

Lise Lindstrom's voice is ample (I suppose that should really go without saying for all the soloists in this work) and steely, even strident at the top - not an issue in this sometimes shrewish role. She was outstandingly expressive and engaged: though a concert performance, this was still well acted, within the limits imposed by standing in a row at the front of the stage. That touch of edginess in Lindstrom's timbre helped make for a good contrast between all three leading women. Michaela Schuster was just as committed, playing the Nurse as a vivid, volatile character part, full of vocal colour, making the very best of the slightly unruly quality of her singing. Stephen Gould was a Wagnerian Heldentenor sort of Emperor rather than a lyrical one, pushed to (but not beyond) his limit, hewing the notes out of hard rock with his bare hands.

I see on France's 'blogosphère' that opinion is divided over Elza van den Heever. People apparently either like her a lot or not at all. My neighbour, on Monday, was among the latter, disliking her timbre and finding her acting expressionless, but I am one of the former. To me, her voice was a column of pure crystal, ideal for the supernatural character she was playing, and her initially cool, aloof dignity was right for the part. In one of his (many) letters to Strauss, Hofmannsthal writes of 'the threefold nature of the Empress.' In the first act, 'only the animal and spirit are apparent... the humanity is missing.' To me, she played it right, warming gradually to blossom in full in act three, where her spoken monologue was an impassioned outburst, and her 'Ich.. will... nicht!' perfectly judged. Vocally, not once did she sound stretched by the part. I thought she was great.

Hofmannsthal

I decided I'd end with Michael Volle, as to me he was best of all. He gave a lesson in dramatic singing, somehow projecting pianissimi into the hall with crisply comprehensible diction over Strauss's orchestral racket, in a performance filled with a blend of wry humour and gentle, long-suffering humanity suggested through subtle gestures and expressions. The Bachtrack  website, with which I often find myself uncannily in tune, put it better than I could:

'Le baryton Michael Volle récolte quant à lui avec justice une salve nourrie de bravos pour sa magistrale interprétation de Barak. Il est l'un des seuls à avoir su transcrire vocalement l'évolution psychologique de son personnage, de l'ouvrier un peu rustaud à l'allégorie de l'amour conjugal.' (1)

A masterly performance from him, and a highly satisfactory evening all round. I noticed there were microphones, and see the concert will be broadcast by France Musique on the evening of May 16 - a chance for New-Yorkers to get an idea of what they might hear at the Met next season.

(1) Baritone Michael Volle, for his part, was justly rewarded with a bravo-filled salvo for his masterful interpretation of Barak. He is one of the very few to have been able to transcribe vocally the psychological evolution of his character, from the somewhat rustic worker to the allegory of conjugal love.