This review was written for the performance on May 9.
The Metropolitan Opera has a tendency to schedule rare operatic gems near the end of the season as the fanfare and excitement of the year starts to wane. Almost every single time, these rare works represent some of the year's greatest highlights. This season featured Francis Poulenc's masterful "Dialogues des Carmélites" with a fantastic cast in a venerated production by John Dexter. Thursday's performance was undoubtedly one of the highlights of a truly wonderful season at the legendary opera house.
The opera poses powerful questions of death and fear in the context of a nunnery at the start of the French Revolution. Blanche De la Force (Isabel Leonard) lives in tremendous anxiety of revolt and decides to become a nun to avoid its potential dangers. The seeming safety of her new position is shaken when the prioress Madame de Criossy (Felicity Palmer) dies in torment and dread. Terror starts to take hold of her and the remainder of the work relates Blanche's struggle to come to terms with her fatal destiny.
Dexter's production is minimalism at its finest and most powerful. The curtain rises and the viewer is given an image of a huge white cross amidst a sea of black; the torment and fear of the unknown opposed with hope. Laying on the ground with arms outstretched are the nuns of the title; their appearance almost seems to hint at souls floating in the expanse of the world. The Carmélites rise and walk off stage and a panel comes down to denote the De La Force residence. The remainder of the work features a similar style that suggests locations without ever disrupting from the powerful and bleak imagery that dominates the vast canvas. As a result, the opera also moves swiftly, with the momentum never faltering due to set changes or lengthy pauses.
The monochromatic style is furthered by the wardrobe of all the characters and emphasizes the dark tone of the work. When diversely colored attire arrives near the end of the opera, it disrupts and generates a subtle imbalance in the structure created throughout. The final scene is masterfully staged with each Carmélite walking upstage to her doom and disappearing into the black. The sounds of the guillotine claiming its prize each time are devastating.
Isabel Leonard provided a powerfully rich portrait as the tormented Blanche. She seemed icy in a number of scenes, almost as if hiding her fear behind a veil of unexpressive gestures. As Sister Constance (Erin Morley) moved about with excitement and declared her lack of fear, Leonard's Blance responded with aggressive, almost condescending phrases. In her scene with her brother (Paul Appleby) late in the work, she turned her back to him and responded coldly. However as the worked progressed, Leonard's Blanche let her guard down and became an increasingly vulnerable being. During that same duet with her brother, she turned to him and almost started to plead that he not forget her. She was full of desperation as she lamented her fate back at her father's home at the end of the opera and her voice blossomed with unbridled intensity as she nailed each one of the demonic high notes Poulenc's vocal line challenged her with. Her delivery of the final scene brought the character's arc full circle. She walked backward to her doom, all the while singing the final prayer with serenity.
Felicity Palmer delivered the most haunting instance in the entire performance during the prioress' death scene. In her first entrance, Palmer's voice had an even keel that gave her an authoritative presence. However, the final scene saw that vocal quality slowly darken and then transform into harsh, almost disembodied shrieks of pain. The visceral impact of this scene really expressed the torturous experience of dying with tremendous fear and provided a powerful counterpoint to the more "peaceful" death procession of the Carmélites.
Erin Morley delivered a fantastic counterpoint to Leonard in the role of Constance. During their first conversation, Morley's soprano showcased flexibility and vibrancy. The actress even moved about the stage a bit in contrast to the more stoic and grounded figures around her. While Blanche seemed bitter, Morley's Constance seemed alive and free. However, as the work progressed, the character seemed to wilt away; the youthful exuberance from the first scene transformed into quiet weakness. At the end of the opera, she almost attempted to flee from her fate. The arrival of Blanche on the scene appeased her dread and helped her on her way.
Patricia Racette delivered the role of Madame Lidoine with assuredness that made her the calming presence on stage. Her singing was delicate, particularly in the jail as she attempted to console the terrified nuns. Elizabeth Bishop showcased a vibrant and powerful voice in the role of the anxious Mother Marie.
Appleby's tenor rang throughout the hall as he shouted at his sister in their confrontation. However in softer passages, his high notes floated in sublime disembodiment.
Credit must also be issued to the singers portraying the Carmelite nuns. The Ave Maria that closed the first half was glorious and the final scene, in which each actress stops singing one by one, was heartbreaking.
Conductor Louis Langrée was formidable in the pit. He kept the orchestra's volume contained throughout, only unleashing it in the work's tumultuous climaxes. During voting for martyrdom, he accentuated the repeated pulses in the orchestration, creating a sense of impending doom.
The theater was packed during Thursday's performance further emphasizing the interest in this "rare" work. The Met's "Dialogues des Carmélites" presentation of the work emphasized its magnificent power and continued to make a case for its insertion into the standard repertoire around the world.
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