SEEN AND HEARD INTERNATIONAL

Set and Costume Designer: George Souglides
Lighting Designer: Wolfgang Göbbel
Stage Director: Stephen Langridge
Choreographer: Philippe Giraudeau
Chorus Master: Donald Nally
Conductor: Sir Andrew Davis

Cast:

Faust:      Paul Groves
Méphistophélès: John Relyea
Brander: Christian Van Horn
Marguerite: Susan Graham

The Part  III  Set - Photograph © Dan Rest

Lyric Opera of Chicago’s new production of Hector Berlioz’s La Damnation de Faust marks the first performance of this work in the company’s repertoire. This work, which its composer called a légende dramatique and initially conceived as a concert opera, has been revived in recent years in innovative productions on the stages of various opera houses, a change from what had been its customary venue in concert halls. In fact, Lyric’s production combines conventional staging with various projections to support Berlioz’s highly connotative work. While it is possible to appreciate a reference in the text of the work and even to apprehend the tone painting in the score, the production makes some of the references come to life on stage.

Set and costume designer George Souglides presents this version of the Faust legend in a twentieth-century milieu. Faust is first shown at a computer desk in a confining cubicle raised high on the stage and framed in light, as if it were a cel in a filmed graphic novel. Yet when the scene shifts to Faust’s experience of the peasants merrymaking, his raised set comes down to the stage, were the crowd is a made up of various sets of identically costumed people having a picnic. The costumes for this scene appear to be from the 1960s, predating Faust’s cubicle in the opening scene. This picnic scene then dissolves into the advancing military, as male dancers in fatigues with red berets dominate the set. They are soon joined by blond women in sweaters, who carry flags which suggest the red-gold-black colors of Germany, but with a medieval-style emblem in the center.

When the work moves to Brander’s scene, the traditional cellar is replaced by a high-tech disco, with banks of glaring lights. The dais in the center of the disco is the setting for a public display of pole-dancing, also suggesting a crucifixion, since the vertical pole intersects with one of the horizontal rows of lights. For this scene the women entertaining at the disco are dressed as large-breasted rodents, whose tails can be fondled by the men in the on-stage audience. Brander himself is costumed as a ghoul, suggesting that he may have already sealed some diabolic pact, a drastically different view of singer Christian Van Horn to his usual appearances on this stage.

When Marguerite appears, she has a 1960s style hairdo, and the flat she shares with her aged mother is a three-room affair that opens to a balcony. The living room with television is next to Marguerite’s rather dated-looking bedroom with its patterned wallpaper, dresser photos in standing frames, and its own crucifix. It has the look of a Kubrick film, and the lack of solid walls between the staged spaces allows the supernatural character of Méphistophélès to move between the chambers seemingly by magic. Marguerite’s neighbors, when they appear, emerge from various doors under her flat, and their costumes suggest a group of middle-aged or older couples roused from sleep – or perhaps some sort of nocturnal cleaning activity, since most of are carrying or wearing blue latex gloves.

The jail scene is also set in the twentieth century, with Marguerite seated at the kind of interrogation desk that is the stock-in-trade for television police shows and the noose already prepared for her is suspended surrealistically center - stage over what will become the pit into which Faust descends. This stands in contrast to the more conventional depiction of a large basilica which becomes the setting for the epilogue in which Marguerite is redeemed.

While most of the settings indicate the twentieth century, the text arises of course from the more medieval libretto that Berlioz composed with his colleague Almire Gandonnière, based on Gérard de Nerval’s famous French translation of Goethe’s Faust. At times some of the action outlined in the published plot summary defers to Stephen Langridge’s conception of the work in a twentieth-century setting in which Langridge attempts to reflect in the stage action some of the details not fully explained in the libretto itself. One prominent example is in the way in which Marguerite accidentally poisoned her mother by administering too many doses of a sedative, in order to have an uninterrupted assignation with Faust. (This was shown by having Marguerite bring her mother repeated cups of tea.) In some places however, the set’s details have a life of their own, as when a youth from the picnic scene is violently conscripted by the soldiers, an element apparently connecting the scene with the peasants to the following one on the plains of Hungary. Meaning is not entirely explicit though since we see duplicate Fausts and Marguerites in her bedroom and while is certainly was not a problem, it would help to have more program note information about the reasons for this.

Despite such questions about the staging of this production, the musical performance was outstanding, both vocally and instrumentally. Paul Groves is very well suited to the role of Faust, and his vocal range and varied tone serve the character very clearly. His acting is also very good conveying much when it portraying his anxieties or later, his hesitation. Without chewing the scenery, he gave enough sense of those frames of mind to help the audience grasp his situation, yet it was his singing that made the most important impression. From his opening monologue, “Le vieil hiver” his phrasing and sound were persuasive; he was consistently precise and expressive through the entire performance, but his finest moments came at the beginning of the third part, in his aria “Merci, doux crepuscule.” Here Groves was especially clear and resolved in lower and mid-range passages while the soft pitches at the upper end of the tessitura at the repeated “silence” sounded completely natural and easy – such is his facility in this challenging number. He repeated this impression in the duet with Marguerite “Ange adoré,” later in the same act.

As Marguerite, Susan Graham delivered an equally solid performance. Her first piece, the aria “Autrefois un roi du Thulé” was moving on its own merits and both her musical precision and clear diction were apparent throughout the whole performance as with each strophe she moved the fable of the King of Thule on to its sad conclusion. Spontaneous applause at the conclusion of this number demonstrated the continuing power of this familiar piece when performed so well. The duet with Faust “Ange adore” was equally convincing because of the two musicians’ deep knowledge of French opera repertoire in general and of this work in particular. They worked excellently together. In Ms Graham’s final number, the policewoman waiting to arrest Marguerite brought a surreal presence to an otherwise deeply personal scene, and here the staging really helped to reinforce what the audience was hearing - the policewoman drawing attention to the singing by signalling the other officers to stand back until has Marguerite finished. This certainly echoed the audience’s rapt attention to Ms Graham in this scene, in which Marguerite’s serenity can be heard to start eroding. Altogether Ms Graham gave a compelling performance.

John Relyea has sung the part of Méphistophélès at the Metropolitan Opera, most recently last season, and he brought all of his knowledge and experience to Lyric’s production. His firm and dark sound fit the role well, and he clearly made the most of the character without resorting to stereotypes. He delivered the declamatory passages to great effect, even though sometimes more sustained lines, as in the satirical “Devant la maison” in Part Three, were less powerful. Yet he gave a commanding shape to the fourth part, the section in which the devil brings his pact with Faust to its conclusion and ultimately delivers him to hell. Here the chorus was vivid too, with the famous scene of pandemonium delivered with the musical solidity it requires.

In fact, throughout the whole performance the chorus provided a fine reading of the score. Its opening number, “Les bergers quittent leurs troupeaux” was rhythmically engaging and ringing with solid intonation. The entire ensemble blended well, something actually reinforced by the positioning of small groupings of the various voice types around the stage. The men of the chorus were also solid in the scene at Brander’s cellar, “A boire encore!” while the numbers which evoking religious rites, the Easter hymn “Christ vient de ressusciter!” in Part Two and the tableau with Marguerite in the final scene “Remonte au ciel” were notable for masterful choral sound which complemented the accompanying orchestral sound marevellously.

The orchestra itself deserves recognition for its clear and detailed playing under Sir Andrew Davis’ direction. This was particularly evident in the “Ride to the Abyss” in the fourth part, where the orchestral performance evoked more terrors than any scenic designer could imagine. Sir Andrew and his orchestra were as strong a component of this new production as the fine chorus and, of course, the international cast of principals.

The audience responded enthusiastically with warm applause for Relyea, Graham, and Groves while acknowledging the fine contribution of Christian Van Horn, who was impressive as Brander, another solid role his repertoire. When the design team took their own bow however, some of the audience expressed displeasure, while other parts of the house greeted them with wild approval. Clearly the production had succeeded in engaging the audience wholeheartedly, one way or another.

James L. Zychowicz