This DVD release of
a well-known video performance is something
of a mixed bag. Musically, it can probably
stand with the best, having a cast of
true international quality, a star singer
(who knows the work backwards) making
his British debut in the pit, and a
sumptuous, if very safe, stage production.
The problem is that
by the standards of the best new DVD
releases (such as the BBC Glyndebourne
Carmen) the packaging and presentation
here are very shoddy. One can (in a
generous mood) forgive the typos and
gaffes on the box, such as the blank
space where Domingo’s name should go
after ‘conductor’. But it’s hard not
to feel short-changed with the lack
of a booklet. All the necessary information,
such as synopsis (this is a complex
plot), production details, biographies,
chapter points etc. are either missing
or relegated to a minuscule space on
the outer box cover. It smacks of a
rush release. More seriously, there
are technical problems (or at least
were on my review copy). Some bad instability
on the picture at the start seemed to
settle after a while. But during Act
2, the synchronisation between soundtrack
and visuals started to go astray, and
got steadily worse through to the end.
By Act 3, the voices were a good couple
of seconds behind what’s on screen,
which certainly became irritating. I
don’t know if this has been sorted,
but buyers should be aware.
The show itself is
very enjoyable, though it does look
rather dated now. As far as I can make
out, it was a sort of bumper, gala-style
New Year’s Eve production, with all
the stops pulled out. This is certainly
true of the casting, which is strong
throughout. The trouble is, there is
a deeper layer to Strauss’s naughty
exposé of fin-de-siècle
Viennese aristocratic life that goes
unexplored. I suppose this was never
going to be the night for ‘director’s’
theatre, so it’s best to just sit back
and enjoy the bubbliness and sheer escapism
of it all. The sets and costumes have
all the style and opulence you would
expect of such an occasion and no one
puts a foot wrong.
Vocally, everyone is
on good form, with all the ‘big’ arias
being relished. Adele’s laughing aria
‘Mein Herr Marquis’ brings the house
down. I loved Doris Soffel’s delivery
of Orlofsky’s toast to champagne, ‘Im
Feuerstrom der Reben’, and Ben Luxon
clearly enjoys himself in Falke’s hymn
to love, ‘Brüderlein und Schwesterlein’.
Dennis O’Neill hams it up suitably as
the buffoonish tenor Alfred, and Kiri
Te Kanawa stuns us with her virtuosic
rendition of the famous Hungarian-style
aria in Act 2, complete with on-stage
gypsy band.
It’s all great fun,
though the ‘guests’ at Orlofsky’s party
in Act 2, including the camp Hinge and
Bracket duo and a rather shambolic,
somewhat embarrassed-looking Charles
Aznavour (singing – you guessed it –
‘She’) could be tiresome on repetition.
Domingo keeps things
fizzing along at a cracking pace and
the orchestra plays well for him. Humphrey
Burton’s commendably non-interventionist
camera work helps the viewer, though
occasional close-ups reveal more than
they should, such as wobbly backdrops
and singers waiting for entrances.
I’m not sure what the DVD competition
is for Die Fledermaus. This release
is good value at 3 hours on one disc,
but buyers should bear in mind the technical
and packaging problems.
Tony Haywood
Chorus and Orchestra of the Royal Opera House,
Covent Garden/Placido Domingo 