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Conductor
Vladimir
Jurowski
Director
Peter Hall
Designer
John Gunter
Choreographer
Lynne Hockney
Otello
Vitaly Tarashchenko
Desdemona
Tatiana Monogarova
Iago
Anthony
Michaels-Moore
Emilia
Jean Rigby
Cassio
Alfred Boe
Roderigo
Matthew Beale
Montano
Christian
Reyes
Strappa
Ludovico
Michael Druiett
A Herald
Alexander
Ashworth
The London
Philharmonic Orchestra
The
Glyndebourne Chorus
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Glyndebourne
24 July - 28 August 2005
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You
get thrown straight in the
deep end in Glyndebourne's
revival of Peter Hall's production
of Otello.
Waves crashing against the
shore, sailors clinging to
the promontory for dear life
trying to gauge the fortunes
of their storm tossed leader
Otello, battling against the
sea and the Turk. Searing
brass, crashing symbols and
a full chorus raising the
roof at Glyndebourne are transporting,
and take you straight to Cyprus
where Venetian power is in
the balance and foul weather
brings dark portends. It is
fast and loud, exhilarating
and gripping immediately...
and a little disappointing
when the victorious Moor makes
a strangely reluctant entrance,
a portly and avuncular figure
in boot black.
The decision was made to black
Otello up: the role calls
for a dark face and there
are none available to play
the part. So goes the old
argument which still seems
to hold sway in Opera. Unfortunately,
the grease paint on this Otello
could not hide his lack of
stature or savage majesty
or commanding charisma or
good teeth, or any of the
other qualities that we must
assume he possesses to catapult
himself from rude slave to
general at the head of a white
army. If we must suspend our
disbelief on the shape of
his body, why aren't we asked
to do the same for the colour
of his skin? Post Ali G it
seems out of kilter with the
times, and not a little ridiculous.
Especially when in the love
duet at the end of Act 1 poor
Desdemona ‚ towering over
Otello ‚ has to pout like
a porcupine to avoid getting
any grease marks on her flowing
white dress.
When our performance was held
up by a safety officer striding
through a chorus still in
full song to tell us from
centre stage that they were
'having a little trouble'
with their fire, it seemed
like things were about to
unravel. But when the 'fouci
di gioia' were finally lit
and the show got back on the
road, the mastery with which
the young Russian conductor
Vladimir Jurowski handled
the score slapped me straight
back in my seat. There's a
debate about Otello;
is this late Verdi on the
wane, or the master trying
something new? There are no
great show-stopping tunes;
couldn't he come up with any,
or did he just not want to
stop the show? With his urgency
and accuracy Vladimir Jurowski
made a brilliant case for
this opera. There was a real
fusion of the music and the
drama. Notes of discord were
timed perfectly to underscore
any breath of hope from the
stage, and there was a seemingly
delicious relish taken in
relentlessly dragging the
tragedy down into the pit.
Tatiana Mongarova playing
Desdemona was captivating,
and though the smart money
would have backed her in any
tussle with Otello, she managed
to die delightfully. Her voice
was beautifully clear and
strong, pure and powerful,
and although her acting made
her seem a rather too knowing
Desdemona, if she had been
paired with a stronger Otello
she might have been raised
to something extraordinary.
I saw her with Vitaly Tarashchenko,
and she was probably better
matched with David Rendall
who was Peter Hall's other
Otello. Anthony Michaels-Moore
was an enjoyably malevolent
machiavel as Iago, almost
pantomimic on stage, but dark
enough to remain deathly serious
and chilling in his 'Credo
in un dio crudel' aria in
Act 2. Supporting roles from
Alfred Boe's Cassio and Jean
Rigby's Emilia were strong.
And the chorus? The chorus
was really the star of this
production, and for that Peter
Hall deserves particular praise.
They moved with a joyful assurance
and ingenuity, filling the
stage and the auditorium.
It has been said that Glyndebourne
lacks the space to produce
any of the larger operas,
but with John Gunter's design
for Otello,
Peter Hall shows what is possible.
A series of stairs and balconies
on three different levels
created a space to stage dramatic
games, to play on the ascending
and descending scales of the
music and to pack in the performers
and fill the auditorium. The
chorus, the orchestra and
the assuredness of the supporting
roles made this a performance
to remember and a Glyndebourne
production to look forward
to again, despite the sheepishness
of Tarashchenko's old black
ram.
Charlie
Taylor |
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