Attila, a seldom-performed early (1846) Verdi opera premiered at the Met last night. The plot dealt with the Attila's destruction of the Roman Empire and its overarching theme of a dynamic, raw violent uprising destroying complacent, corrupted civilized power has an obvious relevance today. All that survives the barbarian onslaught is the new settlement of Aquileia (Venice) founded by Roman refugees on the verdant lagoons of the north. On this larger scale the production had two visually commanding set elements: vast slabs of destroyed stone monuments and buildings are followed by a lush green, other-worldly tropical wall. One couldn't help but think of the destruction in Haiti or the Middle East (for different reasons but with the same results) as well as our Utopian wish for a green revolution. The production was designed by the Pritzker winning architects Herzog & de Meuron who also designed the "Birds Nest" at the Olympics. The Director, Pierre Audi, was born in Beirut and since I just noticed this biographical fact I find my observation on the destruction may be reinforced. The link from the Met's website has an interesting interview with video that will help you visualize the production.
Ricardo Muti, the legendary La Scala director, made his Met debut last night and elicited beautiful, subtle themes from the orchestra and chorus. One highlight for me was the second scene of the Prologue when hermits, crouched in caves beneath the ruins, are in fear of a violent storm. The orchestration and the voices were soft and colourful (borrowing a musical term that seems to fit here) and the lighting of the set was at its most effective. The ruins became translucent with the rose of the dawn . The cross in the cave (suggesting their reliance on faith in God) slowly and dramatically illuminated. This scene was the most visually effective and it reminded me of the beautiful sunrises that are reflected in the skyscrapers of lower Manhattan. Every morning I am in awe of the subtle and dramatic lighting that lights up the skyline across the river from our apartment and I hope one day to capture this and post a photo on the blog. I digress in order to illustrate how some of the smaller transitional moments of an operatic production can be the most moving.
The principal performers were good, but I have to confess that the story and the stylized arias and cabalettas seemed too stereotyped and artificial. I kept thinking that my non-opera loving friends would find this production validated their disinterest in opera. Ildar Abrasakov,a Russian bass was good in the lead role of Attila. He was suitably large in voice and presence and not overwhelmed by the dramatic ruins. I was disappointed in the romantic tenor, Ramon Vargas. I didn't know if Verdi wrote the music in what seemed a lower range to me, or whether he couldn't handle the high notes. The best performer of the evening was a last minute substitute, Giovanni Meioni, who played the conspiratorial Roman general, Ezio. The soprano, Violetta Urmana, was a classic warrior heroine which is not my preference for soprano leads but she certainly had a dynamic voice. However, I was constantly distracted by her Marge Simpson hairdo, which brings me to the real critique of this production.
Miuccia Prada's costumes and the static stage direction were underwhelming and yet intrusive. Attilla's helmet and Ezio's cape had little lights on them that reminded me of the running lights that hot-rod owners will have around their license plates. I overheard someone compare them to campy Star Wars light sabers and perhaps that was the intent. I could not distinguish the marauding Huns from the oppressed Roman refugees because everyone wore brown. I think the Huns were intended to look like troops in modern camouflage and even they had to wear ridiculous lights on their heads which made them look like coal miners. Or maybe this was intentionally correlating war and destruction with industrialization. I've never had the nerve to "boo" but wanted to when the Druid priestesses in Act II, who are supposed to be singing and dancing, stand there mute and are skinny little runway models that Prada must have recruited from last week's Fashion Week in New York.
Well the audience's reaction was equally mixed. There was polite applause overall, some bravos for the leads, an enthusiastic bravo for Muti and the orchestra, and boos for Herzog & de Meuron. Prada didn't show up for the curtain call (coward! Odabella would have!) There is as much drama in the curtain calls at a premiere performance as in the opera. Muti took one or two bows and then suddenly walked off with an odd hand-wave to the audience, as if to say "I'd stay but I really have more important things to do than to listen to your mixed reaction." I suspect the New York audience is not as "sophisticated" at the European audiences who have seen more post-modernist (?) productions like this. The gentleman next to me asked, "Did they really boo? Who were they booing? Was that a joke?" and it was obvious from our conversation that he was a regular opera goer who thought it was a good production. Now that you've suffered through my review you can compare it with those who really know what they are talking about. (and as I post these links it is the first time I've had a chance to see what others say)
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