A Kat'a to make you weep

Kat'a Kabanova has always, for me, been the most poignant of Janacek's operas. A life cut short, a love denied and a village permanently stuck in its own religious and moral hypocrisies. Trevor Nunn's 1994 production, back now at Covent Garden for its third revival, is a brilliant study in how oppression can ruin lives. One image that remains from seeing the production last night is Janice Watson, in the Act 1 interlude, stranded in the centre of Maria Bjornson's muddy cyclone set weeping to the glowering sky above. The pain of the image is unbearable and entirely apt; it is an image that is repeated time and time again. In this world nothing changes.

With a Mother-in-Law as incisive and cruel (and brilliantly portrayed) as Felicity Palmer's Kabanicha it is little wonder that she feels so alone. With a feckless husband and a chancing lover, Kat'a is the only woman who has a central rigid core. Alas, that core is broken by her surroundings and she gives in to a sinful relationship and the freedom of death. Janice Watson's recording of Jenufa with Mackerras and the WNO forces (standing in for the sadly deceased Susan Chilcott) was marvellous preparation for these performances. A stunning vocal performance is matched by the ache she clearly expresses through each note. One can hardly fail to feel her sense of release from the whole horrendous mire her life has become when she leaps into the Volga.

But the work is not without its summer glories, and Charles Mackerras both drives hard edginess and the inner romantic heart (particularly in Act 2). The young lovers, Varvara and Kudrjas, played by Linda Tuvas and Toby Spence, offer an easy optimism, contrasting brilliantly with the depressive main tale. Kurt Streit's Boris (if a little vocally hard-edged for my liking) is the very picture of a man having his cake, eating it and then abandoning the crumbs.

Trevor Nunn's production may contain too many details (the Russian Orthodox priests meandering by after vespers, the myriad props or the real horses pulling Tichon's Troika), but his understanding of the relationships in the piece is crystal clear. With Mackerras's knowledge of the ins and outs of Janacek's own theatrical voice this makes for an electrifying if ultimately depressing evening at the Opera House. I only hope that impressive reviews knock about the most stubborn degrees of public taste and that more people allow themselves to come and have their emotions battered.


Staggering Jenůfa at ENO

Whilst I don�t care for all of the modern paraphernalia David Alden and his design team throw at the first act of Jenůfa, Alden�s production comes into its own in the last two acts creating a staggering production of Jan�ček�s first great opera.

At the heart of any production of the opera are Jenůfa herself and the Kostelnička, and here Amanda Roocroft repeats her renowned interpretation of the title role, with Catherine Malfitano as the Kostelnička. Roocroft gives her most assured performance I have heard. She is both the simpering girl at the heart of the tragedy, and the strong woman able to overcome those horrific events. Alden avoids caricaturing the Kostelnička, and Malfitano is gripped by worry and doubt throughout her performance. Vocally she is strong, though her American twang clouds certain vowel sounds, and I found her shouts and screams rather underpowered in comparison with other performers of the role.

Stuart Skelton is an exemplary Laca, at one moment violent, at another retired and bruised � his voice riding strongly over thick orchestrations. His relief at Jenůfa�s capitulation is genuinely moving. The role of �teva is less well drawn in Alden�s production, both a show-off, and merely petulant during his confrontation with the Kostelnička in the second act. Paul Charles Clarke sings it well, but there are more nuances to be found in the character.

It has become fashionable to relocate Jan�ček�s Ibsenite operas in the Soviet period. Here we have a large grimy industrial mill with dour accommodation for the owners. Some sense of the Buryjas being the centre of the community is lost � hence Jenůfa and the Kostelnička�s shame � but I appreciated the sense that tragedy isn�t merely confined to a sepia-toned turn of the century world (as in Katie Mitchell�s production for WNO). The dim setting for Acts 2 and 3 takes on a life of its own when it is torn apart by the community during the discovery of Jenůfa�s dead child, creating a stunning visual coup. It is this broken setting which frames Jenůfa and Laca�s reconciliation. Even out of the ugliest of situations and communities comes the glory of true love. Whilst some of the trappings of Alden�s production simply needlessly replace the traditional trappings of the libretto (the mill wheel and the like), he underlines the score with his perspicacious direction and delineation of these complex characters. Unlike his brother Christopher Alden�s Makropulos for the ENO, which simply obfuscated the drama with more detail, here David Alden allows Jan�ček�s tragedy to come to the fore.



There are six further performances of Jenůfa at the ENO (12, 14, 18, 20, 26, 28 October 2006)

Visit www.eno.org for internet bookings or book by phoning 0870 145 0200 (open 24 hrs).

ALL IMAGES ARE
� ENO/CLIVE BARDA

Text � Gavin Plumley, 2006



A Makropulos Lacking an Icy Heart
(The Makropulos Case - ENO - 18th May 2006)

Lawyers, Clerks and documents litter Jan�ček�s Makropulos Case or Thing or Affair. In Christopher Alden�s new production for the ENO it is not clear which translation of the title he is married to. The men who littered Emilia Marty�s life now litter the stage (each with a resplendent bouquet � half celebratory, half funereal), but are so indiscriminate that the passion of an �Affair� is entirely absent. The legal �case� which forms the background to most of the brittle and conversational opening act is wilfully obfuscated by Jan�ček, but further hidden by Alden�s production so that its meanings or particulars are totally lost. �Thing� seems to be the element on which this Bauhaus-inspired show feasts, the detritus of 300 years of life, yet all of it irrelevant, miniature and in the end meaningless. Whilst the Glyndebourne production (seen throughout the world) rejoiced in the mess � a parade of E.M.�s belongings passed slowly but seamlessly across the stage � here Charles Edwards�s municipal entrance hall (under harsh fluorescent lighting) is keen to sterilise it. Intellectually the production is accurate in mimicking Emilia�s own coldness to the experiences and details of life, yet it makes for arid stage business whilst Jan�ček�s music overrides with white-hot lyricism.

The music is the star of the show, and Charles Mackerras returns to the Coliseum still blazing in his 81st year. Colour, ensemble and tempi all elucidate the intricacies of the score, always allowing the opera�s journey from the rhythmic drive to lyrical outpouring to come to the surface (though the two intervals compromise the drive over the 90 minutes of music). Mackerras is not alone; Cheryl Barker (who has recently scored with Kaťa in Cardiff, Geneva and Sydney) makes an outstanding debut as Emilia Marty. While we have been used to seeing more senior artists take on the role, it is refreshing to have a younger more virile singer-actress (more akin to the age at which Marty�s own age was frozen). She rides over the orchestra brilliantly and plays with each of her suitors like a petulant cat. Her ambivalence at whether she takes the opportunity to live on for another few centuries or embraces a longed-for death is gasp-making.

Robert Brubaker sings Gregor here for the first time (a role he has performed in New York). He is not given a chance by the production to shine dramatically, as he did at Glyndebourne as Laca, but has the right touch of melancholy and exasperation about his situation. His voice is resplendent. Graham Clark repeats his touching yet sadly manic performance as Hauk-�endorf, whilst Neal Davies and John Graham-Hall add their musical expertise to the many legal cameos. Elena Zanthoudakis is first a poignant Kristina, then quite belligerent in her rejection of Marty�s offer of the secret of (almost) eternal youth.

�It is wrong to live so long�, says Emilia. Barker, Mackerras and Jan�ček himself insist so vehemently on the warmth and basic human dilemma at the centre of this myth, Alden and his team decide to eschew it entirely.

There are seven further performances of The Makropulos Case at the London Coliseum (20, 24, 26, 30 May, 2, 7, 9 June 2006).

Visit www.eno.org for internet bookings or book by phoning 0870 145 0200 (open 24 hrs).

ALL IMAGES ARE
� ENO/NEIL LIBBERT

Text � Gavin Plumley, 2006






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