It has been six years since Johann Strauss Jr.'s "Die Fledermaus" made an appearance at the Metropolitan Opera. For the new revival of the work, Manager Peter Gelb brought back director Jeremy Sams and writer Douglas Carter Beane to not only create a new production of the popular work, but also adapt the lyrics and dialogue as well. Latinos Post was in attendance for the performance on Saturday Jan. 4, 2014.
The first image of the production actually dominates the viewers' attention long before the lights have come down or the first sounds of the overture have begun. Hanging over the stage's black curtain is an invitation to Prince Orlofsky's ball with the date 12-31-99 written at the bottom; the '99 is of course referring to 1899 as this production is set at the end of the 19th century. The image is graceful, but feels a bit unnecessary and actually foreshadows much of Sams and Beane's recreation.
Once the curtain comes up the viewer is introduced to a small living room space that is dominated by the color red. The color of the imagery is striking, but the set itself actually feels underwhelming; Sams may go for an intimate look in a home, but the viewer cannot help but feel that the stage's vast space is poorly utilized in this circumstance. Matters are not helped by the fact that the actors often look constricted on stage and the actual directions are uninspired at best. Characters move about the sets and dance at times, but there is little risk-taking going on here. Considering the irreverence of the work and its inherent silliness, one would expect Sams to at least push the envelope a bit more than he does.
The second act is dominated by the color gold and is certainly a far better use of the stage from the set's standpoint. A massive gold chandelier hangs over the proceedings with rather potent effect while chairs and seats littered about certainly add to the festive atmosphere. In these early instances, the set has a terrific dynamism as the characters spread about, creating what one would expect from a party. However, the arrival of the Hungarian Countess really deflates the overall perspective. The characters bunch up quite a bit, exposing areas of the stage and creating a sense of emptiness in some areas that simply has no place in such a lavish setting. The set rotates for the evening walk between Rosalinde (or the Hungarian Countess) and Gabriel von Eisenstein and the lighting turns blue to emphasize the night sky. In the distance, one hears a piano recalling some of the work's most popular tunes. Then the couple launches in the dynamic "clock" duet in arguably the most poorly staged scene of the entire work. The old cliché "Parking and barking" abounds in this scene where sexual tension is of the essence; Christopher Maltman and Susanna Phillips (both who bring more energy to other moments in the work) look uncomfortable, almost as if they have no idea how to engage one another. It is true that the characters are not comfortable with one another, but they are supposed be actively trying to seduce one another. The result is a rather uninspired rendition of one of the work's most ingenious musical moments. The rest of the act also suffers from similarly banal stage direction. The ballet near the end of the act looked like it was run of the mill; with the exception of one dancer doing back flips, the choreography looked rather redundant and uninspired. The waltz, which closes the act so energetically, was also rather sloppy in its staging as it seemed that everyone was dancing at his/her own pace and there was no thought to putting the characters in some sort of synchronized manner.
The third act resorted to the now tired cliché of modern operatic minimalism: a monochromatic set filled with horizontal and vertical lines to emphasize the bars of the cells. Prisons are dark and gloomy places to be sure, but could anyone care not to keep making operatic productions dominated by black and white sets? The staging continued its rather predictable nature with a lot of standing around and singing and a few inspired movements here and there. This writer is in no way claiming that stillness cannot be an appropriate or even effective dramatic means; quite the opposite as in the proper circumstance it is more profound than the often superfluous imposition of movement by some directors. However, this operetta is not one of those circumstances. It is an energetic work where each musical number is essentially another dance and where the characters are constantly engaged in the silliest of activities; it is inconceivable that Sams had no idea what to do with his characters throughout this rather unpredictable work.
The writing is also misguided throughout and often seemed to overlook character development in favor of punch-lines. During the Act 1 trio between Adele, Eisenstein and Rosalinde, Rosalinde sings of missing her husband as he departs for jail. Suddenly, the mournful melody gives way to dance that is supposed to express the character's differing excitement: Adele and Eisenstein are thinking of their party while Rosalinde is a bit more conflicted. The lyrics in Sams' version say "Oh no, oh no, what tale of woe!" The brief lyrics fail to truly express the aforementioned emotions of the characters and actually confuse the viewer. The music hints that these new lyrics are sarcastic in nature, but they do little to further the development of the characters. The work's final twist is interesting, but the final lyrics wind up confusing the viewer by hinting that everyone was part of one massive fabrication against Falke. Eisenstein's prison sentence becomes an afterthought in this new version, as does Alfred the tenor who barely gets any chance to truly develop his persona. The tenor gets to sing a few phrases here and there from other operas, but is never actually given a chance to truly establish himself in the third act. The second act clocks in at a little over an hour and still manages to feel rather long thanks to some overbearing exchanges of dialogue. Again, the attempts to increase the punch-lines and jokes manage to get in the way of the story's momentum.
Despite all this seemingly negative ranting, it is impossible to call this "Fledermaus" anything but fun. Even if the dialogue and story changes are nonsensical, the jokes themselves are quite hilarious. Orlofsky, a Russian Prince, tells the audience that anyone can be what they want. The character's homosexual inclination coupled with his nationality is not lost on the viewer, especially in light of current events; this added some slick irony to the proceedings. Jokes about Alfred's high notes were also well-timed and executed throughout the night. The arrival of Frosch on the scene in Act 3 led to the production's most inspired moments. Actor Danny Burstein provided the production with the unpredictability that was sorely lacking throughout. He cooked on stage, he gave his best basketball attempt, he made up some jokes about breaking the forth wall (and even asked those in the orchestra seating if they knew how hard it was to work for a living), he tried his best at a Spanish accent, he flirted, he danced; in sum, there was nothing this guy couldn't do. Frosch is a silly creation, but Burstein reveled in it to the audience's benefit.
The remainder of the cast also does a solid job. Susanna Phillips brought a potent soprano to the role of Rosalinda. Her phrasing was elegant throughout, particularly in the Czardas of Act 2 while she was posing as the Hungarian Countess. The soprano's voice caressed every phrase throughout the mournful melody dominating the opening of the aria; the second section, which demands tremendous virtuosity was equally compelling as Phillips showcased a nimble and versatile use of coloratura. The final moments of the Czardas demand a few imposing top notes from the soprano, climaxing in a high D natural. Phillips attacked the preceding notes with poise; while she did not sustain the final D, she made a terrific stylistic scoop to it. She was also rather unforgettable during the Act 3 trio with Eisenstein and Alfred, her voice snarling with vicious delight as she talked about taking down her husband for his infidelity. She did manage a sweet intimacy with Maltman during an interpolated a Capella rendition of the "You and Me" waltz that while sugary, really created a bond between the characters that is often lacking in other productions of the work; in this case their reconciliation was actually palpable and realistic.
Maltman was brilliant as Eisenstein. The role is notorious for its rather high tessitura as the baritone who takes on the role is expected to return to his high range a number of times throughout the evening. Maltman was up to the task vocally, particularly with his elegant delivery in the "clock" duet of Act 2.
Michael Fabiano was an impressive Alfred, constantly showing off his potent high notes with complete abandon. The tenor was fabulous in the memorable "Long ago, far away" that ends the first act; his voice gliding over every phrase with eloquence and delicacy. As noted above, his role was given little time in Act 3, but he still managed some memorable interpolations of the opening phrases of "Un Furtiva Lagrima," a brilliant high A sharp from Cavaradossi's "Vittoria, Vittoria," and a terrific "Trovatore" joke.
Jane Archibald relished the role of Adele; she managed to create a coquettish personality for the chambermaid-turned-actress and was vibrant during her solos in Act 2 and Act 3; the latter moment, in which Adele does an impromptu audition was particularly memorable with the soprano not only creating a plethora of terrific characters in diverse accent (a rather hilarious southern drawl), but also showed off the versatility of her voice.
Anthony Roth Costanzo was often exaggerated in his movements as Prince Orlofsky and his voice seemed a bit overwhelmed by the high notes in his aria, but the countertenor managed to bring charm with his Russian accent and nimble singing throughout; this was most notable during the drinking song.
Paulo Szot was also a bit over-emphatic in his movements throughout the evening, but he delivered a compelling rendition of the opening phrases of the glorious "You and Me" (Bruderlein) waltz in Act 2. His voice soared gracefully and throughout this particular passage, creating one of the more memorable vocal moments of the evening.
The remainder of the cast complemented the leads rather well with Betsy Wolfe managing to be a hilariously annoying Ida.
Conductor Adam Fischer was actually rather uninspired throughout the evening. The orchestral sound came off as rather small throughout the evening, particularly throughout the overture. The tempi lagged at times, especially during the Act 2 ballet and "Unter Donner und Blitz" polka. In the polka, the percussion section was actually inaudible at times (rather shocking considering the prominent role it plays throughout the piece) and the crescendos rarely registered. At other times Fischer was unable to strike the appropriate balance with the singers and even covered them; this was most apparent during the solo verses of the drinking song.
Despite its faults, the Met Opera's new "Fledermaus" is tremendous fun, thanks to committed performances from the cast members. The evening will be long (Saturday's performance clocked in at just under four hours), but it will provide the viewer with a surplus of unforgettable laughs and a plethora of tunes to whistle for following days and possible weeks.
- Contribute to this Story:
- Send us a tip
- Send us a photo or video
- Suggest a correction
