Review: A New, Abstract ‘Guillaume Tell’ at the Met Opera
Version 0 of 1. It sounded like a good idea. In a recent interview, the director Pierre Audi described his new production of Rossini’s “Guillaume Tell” for the Metropolitan Opera as an “abstraction” rather than an updating. This monumental opera, Rossini’s final masterpiece, spins a tale of the legendary Swiss folk hero William Tell, a renowned archer who fought to liberate his homeland from Austrian rule. Though set in the Middle Ages, the opera explores timeless themes: How do people balance patriotic loyalty with personal freedom? What does it mean to foster a national culture? How does a rural community live in harmony with nature? The challenge in opting for abstraction as a production concept is that atmospheric imagery can come across as vague, even blank. Add surreal touches to an abstract setting, and the staging can feel contrived. Mr. Audi’s production, which opened on Tuesday at the Met, falls into these traps. But it’s a major statement for the Met to take on this long and challenging work, performed for the first time at the house since 1931 and the first time ever here in the original French. (How long is it? With two intermissions, the evening lasted nearly five hours, almost as long as “Tristan und Isolde,” which the Met had performed the previous evening.) And musically, there is much to celebrate, starting with a strong cast headed by the elegant bass-baritone Gerald Finley in the title role. The conductor Fabio Luisi brought insight and adroit technique to Rossini’s ambitious score, drawing fleetness, breadth and refinement from the excellent Met orchestra. “Tell” is rich with big, stirring choral scenes for Swiss peasants, valiant volunteer fighters from three Swiss cantons, as well as hunters and guards of the occupying Austrian governor. As usual, the Met choristers (prepared by the chorus master Donald Palumbo) were faultless. In the libretto, the opera opens in a village on the shores of Lake Lucerne, where Tell lives in a tight-knit community under Austrian occupation. Working with the set designer George Tsypin and the lighting designer Jean Kalman, Mr. Audi, who has recently begun his tenure as artistic director of the Park Avenue Armory, tried to create stage imagery that suggested the infinity of nature, the way that rural people might almost blend into their environment. A mirror-like backdrop offers a hazy mingling of pale-blue, grayish swirls and streaks of clouds. The hulking frame of a ship hangs above, since crossing the lake is a daily and, during storms, treacherous activity. Big gray boulders and rocks slide on and offstage. In later scenes, Mr. Audi recalls Robert Wilson, suggesting forest trees with tall vertical tubes of light that pierce floating slabs of rock and sprout branches at the top. Rather than conjuring nature, these surreal elements distract you from the characters as you ponder what Mr. Audi’s point may be. The murky costumes, by Andrea Schmidt-Futterer, make matters worse. The Swiss villagers wear fairly similar robes, all of the same pale grayish coloring, making the performers seem to disappear into the background. When the threatening Austrians appear, it’s melodramatic and obvious to costume these villains in black. Mr. Audi stages several choral scenes with strangely stylized formality. At the opening of Act I, the libretto describes villagers decorating chalets with boughs to celebrate a triple wedding, singing a wistfully beautiful homage to God. Here the villagers stood motionless, faces forward, as they sang. Mr. Audi wants to hit home the fact that oppression never ceases for these people, even during joyous occasions. We get it. The production is lucky to have lead singers with standout vocal charisma. Productions of “Tell,” once rarities, are starting to crop up internationally, and Mr. Finley has made the title part a signature. He may not have abundant vocal power, but he has something better: penetrating vocal presence. His voice is rich, warm and beautiful through its range. This score shows Rossini balancing the florid Italianate bel canto style with pioneering dramatic grandeur, setting the stage for the French grand opera era. Mr. Finley sings filigreed lines with finesse, smoothly folding in embellishments. He vividly conveys the declamatory thrust and poignancy of the music, bringing affecting dignity to his portrayal. Ordered by the maniacal Austrian governor Gesler to shoot an apple off the head of his beloved son, Tell sings the wrenching, sublimely eloquent aria “Sois immobile,” which Mr. Finley performed with magnificent gravity and burnished colorings. The tenor role of Arnold, a young Swiss conspirator who has fallen in love with the Austrian princess Mathilde, is an arduous workout combining soaring lyrical effusions and heroic fervor. Bryan Hymel brings youthful impetuosity and impressive vocal stamina to the part. His sound is slightly nasal, but in an expressive way: more a vocal characteristic than a flaw. Still, his top notes have ping. And Mr. Hymel dispatched with exciting fervor the brilliant cabaletta in Act IV when Arnold vows to avenge his father, killed by the Austrians, and rally the Swiss resistance, nailing all the high C’s. The soprano Marina Rebeka’s plush, ardent sound is ideal for Mathilde. She makes every note count in the dizzying vocal roulades, giving dramatic point to the passagework and suggesting the vulnerability and confusion of a young woman who has fallen for an enemy and come to realize the inhuman oppressiveness of her own people. The bass-baritone John Relyea makes a stentorian, menacing Gesler; the bass Kwangchul Youn wins your heart as old, patriotic Melcthal, Arnold’s father. As Hedwige, Tell’s devoted wife, the mellow-voiced mezzo-soprano Maria Zifchak sings with tender earnestness. In his Met debut, Marco Spotti, a sturdy Italian bass, was forthright as Walter, Tell’s loyal ally. The radiant young soprano Janai Brugger was wonderful as Jemmy, Tell’s brave and obedient son. In this instance, the overall sameness of the costuming actually had a benefit: No extra tinkering was involved to make Ms. Brugger look boyish; she just sang beautifully and really seemed to become the character. At times I thought Mr. Luisi, who is also conducting the Met’s revival of “Don Giovanni,” went too far in striving to highlight the refinement of Rossini’s score, allowing undulant passages to lose lift and urgency. Still, the greatness of the opera came through. Why Rossini, just in his late 30s, quit the opera business after its 1829 premiere remains a much-debated question. But it’s rewarding to have “Tell” finally back at the Met, whatever the frustrations of the staging. |