(Photo: Monika Ritterschaus)

Opéra Bastille is in the midst of presenting a new production of Puccini’s “Il Trittico” (The Triptych) from April 29 to May 28, directed by Christof Loy and conducted by Carlo Rizzi. The triptych features three operas of different natures, all juxtaposed to demonstrate the breadth of the Italian composer’s genius. Contrary to Puccini’s own instructions, the German director begins the work with the opera buffa “Gianni Schicchi,” continues with the verismo staple opera “Il Tabarro,” and finishes with “Suor Angelica,” allowing star Lithuanian soprano Asmik Grigorian to build up the dramatic intensity before ending with a climactic finale.

Production Details

We must begin by saluting the excellent work of the director’s team, namely set designer Étienne Pluss, costume designer Barbara Drosihn, lighting designer Fabrice Kebour and dramaturg Yvonne Gebauer, who give each opera a different atmosphere, inspired by a film genre.

To capture the atmosphere of the opera buffa, the German director drew inspiration from the Italian comedy films of the 1960s and 1970s. Here, the stage is the death chamber of the wealthy bourgeois Buoso Donati. The dead man lies in his king-size bed, his family eating pork by his side. eEening lighting softens the colors of Tuscany as time passes. The family’s costumes are indicative of their middle-class Italian provincial lifestyle. One of the great qualities of this performance is the acting, which although fluid and different in nature for each opera, is perfectly assimilated. In the case of “Gianni Schicchi,” the heirs’ veiled, self-interested to the point of crassness character, is rendered by the grotesque and jubilant exaggeration of their actions. They rummage through the furniture to find Buoso’s will, and don’t hesitate to steal the candelabras and a still-lit lamp from the hall console once Gianni Schicchi has become the owner and chased them out of his house. This exaggeration is used to enshrine almost outrageous moments, such as the dance of satisfaction when they find the famous document, or when the women rudely try to seduce Gianni Schicchi.

Unfortunately, as the voices were not yet broken in, the quality of the singing was not yet optimal in the secondary roles, so Rinuccio’s monologue, sung by the young tenor Alexey Neklyudov, or the group scenes did not go down well with the orchestra. Soprano Asmik Grigorian did not quite manage to convey all the enchanting sweetness of “O mio babino caro,” still lacking roundness in the voice, though her radiant uprightness was already beginning to make itself heard. She would make herself heard even more clearly in subsequent operas.

However, Georgian baritone Misha Kiria delivered a more than convincing Gianni Schicchi. Succeeding in blending a more than aptly truculent performance with a singing style that was at times dry, as when he was ordering the heirs around, and perfidious in his insinuations when he reminded the members of the deceased’s family of the punishments for perjury, he embodied an authentic peasant who is not to be trifled with.

Another quality of this opera was the orchestra, which combined strings and brass, lyricism and narrative, comedy and seriousness, recalling both Puccini’s Wagnerian and Verdian qualities.

While Puccini’s orchestration of “Gianni Schicchi” was inspired by the bourgeois operas of Richard Strauss and the comic operas of Donizetti, his next opera, the veristic “Tabarro,” recalled the “Pagliacci” of his friend Ruggero Leoncavallo. Here, the set is set within gray walls, and its props – a barge from which sailors have pulled out furniture to create a small salon next to it – have no relationship to one another. An iron staircase to the left and a door at the back of the stage allow the characters to come and go. In addition to the sailors, Lauretta and Michele, La Frugola and her companion, a couple of pantomimes comment on the drama. The lighting is cold. The whole thing floats in a gray, gloomy, nauseating atmosphere reminiscent of the grand-guignol from which it’s taken, or a kind of sad Giorgio de Chirico close to Yves Tanguy. Here, the acting is more natural, more realistic, drier. The costumes are dull and dirty. Although the atmosphere is friendly, with the exception of Michele’s interventions, it’s not a pleasant place to be. The inspiration seems to come from art house or film noir.

The voices, much more assured than in “Gianni Schicchi.” Asmik Grigorian, as Lauretta, succeeded in changing the nature of her voice, moving towards a raw truth. She wasn’t touching but dry, true, hard. The voices of the secondary roles were also better: mezzo Enkelejda Shkoza, who played Zita in “Gianni Schicchi,” was clearer, stronger and rounder, perfect in her role as Lauretta’s friend, the Weasel. It was unfortunate that tenor Joshua Guerrero, though clear, seemed to push the greenness of his voice to make himself heard. But the real weak point of the vocal set remained baritone Roman Burdenko as Michele, whose lack of vocal color struggled to convey the depression caused by the character’s advancing age.

Fortunately, the orchestra, with its brittle, Janacek-like tones, its coldness and lack of auditory comfort, captured the nauseating atmosphere of this opera. The Italian conductor, like the director, knew perfectly how to transform his strings.

Finally, “Suor Angelika” seems as much an Ingmar Bergman short film as a Puccini touchstone. The cold, yellow, church-like lighting perfectly conveys a convent atmosphere. The lack of props on stage adds to the harshness of the setting. Fans will debate whether this “Suor Angelica” is the best of the evening’s three operas, so much so that everything seems in its place. Is it because this opera is the most Puccinian of the three, resting, like the “Manon,” “Tosca” or “Madame Butterfly” of Puccini’s Illica and Giacosa period, on internal conflict and thus the choice of a woman’s destiny? Or is it because this opera is without male voices and thus without the imperfections of the singers of yesteryear? Whatever the case, the voices, relationships, setting and acting are ideal. The voices of the secondary characters are accurate, natural, and expressive. Soprano Ilanah Lobel-Torres, as Sister Osmina, and soprano Lucia Tumminelli, as Sister Dulcina, for example, never sounded forced, and were therefore perfectly touching. The confrontation between soprano Karita Mattila as the Principessa and Asmik Grigorian’s Angelica will always be remembered as a perfect success of tension, embodiment and drama. Mattila’s voice is as much an actress as her body. She portrays a lady steeped in tradition, facing Angelica, who has sacrificed everything. Mattila’s singing was straight but supple, human but tough.

Grigorian was ideal as the mother who learns of her son’s death long after his passing, and who must once again sacrifice everything, including her life. She succeeded in transcending rigor, strength and fire of her voice, to reach directly for the emotion. She even made us forget the length of the drama’s ending with this long, somewhat repetitive monologue, exuding her music so perfectly.

The orchestra once again changed its nature, displaying the fine charm, silky colors and harmonious melodies typical of Puccini, as if to give a concentration of the Italian composer’s orchestral genius. This was an excellent evening: a near-perfect triptych.