by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Directed by Francois de Carpentries
A Canadian Opera Company Production
at the Four Seasons Centre
May 9, 12, 15, 18, 21. 25, 27, 29, 2010

   Idomeneo is a strange work by Mozart. Relentlessly gloomy, it is opera seria with heavy musical accents insisting on thickening the lighter tones. Startlingly modern in its pessimism and musical virtuosity (long recitatives, vocal ensemble patterns), it is virtually a sequence of tableaux in which lamentation takes precedence over any dramatic action. Concerned with the potentially tragic fates of its major characters—King Idomeneo of Crete, his son Idamante, and the captive Trojan princess Ilia—its dominant visual leitmotif is a pile of corpses at the top of Acts One and Three. Of course, the tone of lamentation gives rise to some thrilling arias and duets, and though the final sequence is suffused with serenity, as peace is restored after Ilia’s selfless action, Neptune’s release of the King from his careless vow, and Idamante’s ascension to the throne, the after-taste is that of grand but grave emotions from what is essentially internal drama. Of course, Elettra, who wants to marry Idamante and resents the love pact between him and Ilia, has a first aria of stupendous rage that is correlated to the music of the sea in uproar. However, she often seems extraneous to the main plot, and her dramatic role is fitted into a larger pattern of meditation or self-interrogation. Ilia is given to somber meditations, commencing with her articulated struggles with her love for Idamante. For his part, Idamante displays the workings of his mind as he resigns himself to his fate, while his father has his own anguish over his broken vow to sacrifice his son to Neptune.

   Yet, the score (in Italian with English SURTITLES) is gorgeous and the COC production, despite an erratic set, costume, and lighting design, does justice to it, with spectacular singing from its principals and chorus. But an audience has to cope with director de Carpentries and designers Karine van Hercke (costumes), Siegfried Mayer (set), and de Carpentries (lighting) who almost wreck things with a post-modernist perspective that puts things in shreds and patches or mixed periods. Nothing wrong with the dominant colour pattern of teal and grey, with splashes of red for dramatic statement, but why have the Chorus in modern costumes (as if they were on their way to a suburban party) when the Greek guards are Brownshirts and the cowering, suffering prisoners are almost nude or draped in tattered cottons? The front curtain suggests a torn and frayed storybook, and the set is certainly a thing of half articulated suggestions, with huge textured walls, a large fishing net that looms up in the background at strategic moments with dead bodies stuck to it, and a huge obelisk hanging over a fountain with a block that becomes a symbol of execution. De Carpentries is not a subtle director. In his quest for expressiveness, he deploys abrupt transitions of lighting that have a rudimentary primal quality: red for anger or terror, green for apocalypse, white for revelation or salvation. De Carpentries also falls into the clichéd trap of dimming the lights at intimately dramatic moments, perhaps as a signal to the audience to concentrate harder.

   Fortunately, Harry Bicket comes to the production’s rescue with assured conducting that allows the ear to trump the eye. He and his orchestra covered the composer’s territory superbly with long, sustained sweeps and balanced tones, everything getting the full measure of Mozart’s impressive versatility. And I cannot remember a more assured COC Chorus than the one in this production. It turns the show into a thrilling tapestry of sound in which the large ensemble has a role as strong as that of almost any of the soloists. This is saying much in context where the first Act is mightily distinguished by the soprano of Isabel Bayrakdarian (Ilia) and the mezza-soprano of Krisztina Szabo (Idamante), with Bayrakdarian being pitch perfect in both acting and voice (warm velvet in the lower tones and supply dark in the upper), and with Szabo using her tremendous power to overcome the visual distraction of playing a male. Soprano Tamara Wilson brings her own authority to the role of Elettra, but I did not really feel any terror from her performance. There is a nice directorial touch in the aria where she takes her malevolent plot to seduce Idamante away from Ilia with the casualness of one painting her face in a mirror. She sings very well but her performance has a depression in the acting department. Michael Colvin’s Arbace (confidant to Idomeneo) is superb, and there is adequate support from Michael Ulroth as the Oracle and more than adequate work by Adam Luther as the High Priest of Neptune. In the title role, American tenor Paul Groves has a strong stage presence and is especially effective when his natural ruggedness is allowed rein. Tonal beauty is, perhaps, not his forte, but the important thing is that he sings and acts convincingly enough to be a troubled hero.

photos:Michael Cooper

pic 1: Paul Groves (Idomeneo) and Isabel Bayrakdarian (Ilia) in "Idomeneo"

pic 2: (L-R): Paul Groves (Idomeneo), Krisztina Szabo (Idamante), Adam Luther (in blue) (High Priest) in "Idomeneo"

pic 3: Paul Groves (Idomeneo)




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