During the ever important scene between the Prince and Princess in Dvorak's "Rusalka," the former states that he prefers the "blazing fire" of the Princess to the "pale moonlight" of the title character. The idea of passion being the defining element of the humanity permeates the entire work and creates the main conflict between the work's heroine and hero.
If only this passion remained at the forefront of the Met Opera's recent revival of the iconic work. But alas, the performance on January 31 was instead dominated by the "pale moonlight" which managed to push the audience member into a conflict between sleep and staying awake.
All joking and facetiousness aside, the performance features a revival of Otto Schenk's now recognized production, which is lavished with detailed sets and costumes. The first and third act are set by a lake; the circularity of the set matches the overall circular nature of the opera itself. Rusalka starts as a nymph and ends as a nymph and her rebirth as a human is followed by her eventual destruction of a human to regain her prior form. Characters make returns in each act, adding to this constant idea of "returning" and going in circles. The second act follows this circular visual element, with a pond dominating the center of the staging and a curving staircase flowing along stage right. The costumes are rather wonderful as well with Rusalka's attire dominated by the "blue" of the moonlight; other characters of the forest are given a green, earthly tint while the Prince and his court are denoted with a "passionate" red.
If only all of this absorbing detail actually felt meaningful in the revival; the actors all seemed to be going through the motions at every turn. Even the energetic ballet in the second act seemed like it was hastily choreographed; the result was far from appealing. Alas, the spark of passion was nowhere to be found.
Renee Fleming, who is making headlines for her hotly anticipated performance of the national anthem at the Super Bowl, is well-known for the role of Dvorak's tragic heroine; she performed the role just a few years ago. Unfortunately, the performance on display Friday was nothing if not frustrating. Fleming is a well-known opera star, but the word "diva" seems to be more fitting, and unfortunately not in a particularly positive context. Last year performances of Verdi's "Otello" inexplicably stopped right after the "Ave Maria" to enable Fleming to get her rousing ovation. When the production was revived in the spring with Krassimira Stoyanova playing the role of Desdemona, the music did not make the abrupt and ill-conceived pause; instead the glorious interruption of the ethereal violins by the brooding basses was allowed to stand as Verdi had originally conceived it (and as it is usually performed). On Friday, the iconic moon song was also given an "ending" instead of being interrupted by the frenetic violins (as Dvorak's score reads). The reason? So Fleming could get her share of applause. No other singer was given the same treatment; the bass' aria in Act 2 is actually more conducive to being stopped for applause as it has no shocking interruption. However, there was no such concession made for the singer in this case. Contextualizing this with the "Otello" interruption from last season, one could conclude that this is not a mere coincidence; aside from the awkwardness of the musical pickup after the applause, one cannot feel anything if not disconcerted by the fact that the composer's intention are not prioritized and can be easily displaced to promote one artist over the others.
But this is not a rant on whether a singer should get applause or not; this is an analysis of what was another wise uneventful (boring if I must) evening. And Fleming had a lot to do with that. She had some moments of true vocal artistry, highlights with a slow descending phrase near the end of Act 2 in which the accents she placed on the descent came off as potent wails of pain. But otherwise, the soprano delivered a rather uninterested account with little emotional depth or intensity. The singing was solid too be sure (as credit must undoubtedly be given where it is deserved), but Fleming's tone remained at the same dynamic through most of the night; bland would be an apt description. She seemed restrained for most of the evening, making it hard to believe Rusalka's deep desire to be human or to be loved; there were a plethora of moments where the orchestra (which was actually well-balanced and catered to the singers) washed her voice out completely. "Was she conversing for the Super Bowl?" was a question one could not overlook throughout the evening. Two climactic notes (the one before the fateful kiss and Rusalka's final exclamation) were held for lengthy durations, but came off rather uncomfortably for the listener as they veered out of control.
Fleming, generally known for her grace and elegance onstage, was unable to truly bring any of that in the entire night. She stood still most of the time, a blatant reminder of how stale the entire evening went. When she did try to "act," the effect was rather disconcerting. Her attempts to "show" Rusalka's awkward first steps were overdone; one shudders to think how they will translate to the screen when the opera is showcased on HD next week. In the opera's final moments, Rusalka is lifted out of the water, a rather wondrous effect. She is draped in a beautiful gown that adds to the ethereal quality of the moment. However, Fleming's first steps in the dress were rather awkward; the diva looked extremely uncomfortable walking along the plank and would have been better served to remain standing still.
Fleming might have sung the title role, but the disappointing night cannot be placed solely on her shoulders. Tenor Piotr Beczala has a clean elegant voice in the middle and the bright lyricism in this range blended well with the orchestra. Nowhere was this more apparent than during his entrance in the third act where the desperate lower notes range with vibrant intensity. But the upper range, which is a major feature of the role, was simply not there. Bezcala's voice seemingly thins out in the upper range; in an opera with a light orchestral scoring, this is not as apparent. But in an opera like "Rusalka" with a rich orchestra palette, the voice sounds thin and rather frail in the upper limits. It is a herculean effort for any singer to sing over any orchestra (especially at the riveting climax), but one was often afraid of Bezcala's voice imploding during these rich climaxes. All that said, Bezcala's final utterances, sung with absolutely elegant sotto voce, were truly breathtaking and mesmerizing; the final breaths of the character and his struggle to remain alive were deeply felt.
John Relyea got off to a terrific start as the water gnome, particularly as he sang with a delicate and nostalgic quality when he thought about the fleeting youth of his life. And while his voice has a suave quality, he seemed just as miscast as the rest of his major colleagues. His glorious aria, which is the touchstone of the second act, was arguably the biggest disappointment of the evening as it was nearly impossible to hear him. One could barely ask conductor Yannick Nezet-Seguin to hush the orchestra further as it was already seemingly at its bare minimum in attempting to support Relyea; however the bass simply did not have the vocal resonance to vibrate in the hall. It is essential to make it clear that this is not an indictment of singing softly; there is nothing more glorious than listening to a human voice hanging by a seeming thread. This is simply an observation that Relyea seemingly did not have the vocal resources to sing this particular role in such a massive opera house like the Met.
Dolora Zajick, who played the witch Jezibaba, seemed to be the most involved of the major singers in the work. She played with the "animals" in the forest during her opening scene in which she mixes the potion. She had a rather aggressive take on the role, but still managed to retain a comic quality that made her adorable and memorable indeed. Her scene in the third act with Vladimir Chmelo's Gatekeeper and Julie Boulianne's "Kitchen Boy" was filled with a combination of genuine humor and haunting mysticism.
Emily Magee was a solid presence as the foreign princess but also seemed restricted by rather unimaginative stage direction. One had to question how the queen could be identified with passion when she was basically doing the same exact things the "chilly" Rusalka was doing onstage.
Disella Larusdottir, Renee Tatum and Maya Lahyani had arguably the most memorable moments in the entire evening; their third act scene was filled with joie de vivre before descending into dark despair; if there was any semblance of true intensity and foreboding throughout the entire night, it came in this scene. Alexey Lavrov sang the Hunter's song offstage with elegance and polish that added a dreamy dimension to an evening lacking in it.
Despite all of the aforementioned shortcomings, Maestro Nezet-Seguin managed to maintain terrific orchestra congruity. His ability to keep the horns subdued (which many other conductors fail to do to disastrous effects) expressed an understanding of how the sounds resonate throughout the hall. As noted earlier (maybe to exhaustion) he was extremely considerate of his singers and constantly suited himself to their voices. But this was not the only reason for praising his performance. While managing to deliver a truly polished account of Dvorak's beloved score, he also managed to emphasize the tiniest details. A beautiful horn motif that precedes the moon song was beautifully balanced with the strings. A lengthy orchestral section in Act 2 seemed to provide the viewer with the internal emotions of the silent Rusalka (I'm afraid more so than Fleming did with her singing the entire night). If there were any complaints, they relate to tempi. While a languid reading of the ethereal moon song is not something to worry about, a plodding reading of the passionate final duet certainly is. This is yet another example where the passion and urgency of the character was completely lost.
"Rusalka" is a glorious opera and one that should certainly be experienced, opera lover or not. Unfortunately the current Met revival is unable to deliver the dreamy and ethereal quality of Dvorak's wondrous score.