(Photo Credit : Klara Beck)

The Strasbourg Opera in collaboration with the Royal Opera House of Covent Garden and the Lausanne Opera is offering Handel’s “Ariodante” from November 6th-13th. The production will then go to Mulhouse on November 22nd and 24th.

On closer inspection, this drama per musica announces many of the operas to come to amateurs. Thus, its three-act structure and its two couples put in danger by a seducer, recall “Così fan tutte” and “Don Giovanni,” and the vile Don Juan Polinesso with his contempt for virtue is very similar to Iago in Verdi’s “Otello.”

We must first recognize the quality of the orchestra under the direction of the British conductor Christopher Moulds. It conveys well, and this from the overture, the baroque character, therefore willingly repetitive, emphatic and outrageous of the music, just as it leads the changes of scene well and correctly delivers the atmospheres of the work. The balance between the sections, especially between the strings and the winds, and even the harpsichord is also perfect. However, it lacks enthusiasm and drive. Boredom is never far away, alas, especially in the first act serving as an introduction to the opera. More life would have relieved the heaviness of the music and the libretto. The orchestra would have been perfectly capable of it.

Illuminating Cast

The French mezzo Adèle Charvet as Ariodante shows high notes, almost piquant, masters her often chopped, fast and high-flying arias. Only her slightly soft midrange leaves something to be desired. The Hungarian soprano Emőke Baráth as Gineva exhales a very beautiful voice and knows very well how to move vocally from joy to sadness, and even to desolation. The spectator also appreciates the Franco-Catalan soprano Lauranne Oliva as Dolinda with a firm timbre slightly darker than that of Emőke Baráth, the almost childish sweetness, ideal for his role, of the Belgian tenor Pierre Romainville as Odorrado, and the English tenor Laurence Kilsby as Lurcanio, firm and agile. But above all he admires the French countertenor Christophe Dumaux as Polinesso, remarkable for his ease and incarnation, and the American bass Alex Rosen as the King of Scotland, who manages to sing with a voice as deep as it is powerful, despite the handicap of his role. But here too, the musical direction without risk, without roughness and without enthusiasm restrains their singing.

Handel’s arias are made for the performers to exhibit their talents, thanks to the repetitions on which they can embroider. Here, they are all uniform, repetitive and sung in the same way, once again especially in the first act. Ginerva’s aria “Orrida a gl’occhi mie” in the first act, Ariodante’s “Tu preparati a morire” in the second, and “Dalinda Neghittosi or voi che fate?” in the last act are unfortunately monochrome, while they would have been capable of doing much better. The youth of the singers nevertheless fortunately makes them deviate from this purring a few times, as during the crescendo and descendo of Christophe Dumaux in the bed of the sick king or the beautiful restrained emotion of Emőke Baráth during his suicide attempt in the second act. This encumbrance even blocks the emotion of the duets between Ariodante and Genivra, in the first act when their voices combine wonderfully.

Fortunately, what the spectator did not have musically, he finds scenically. Each character is thus brought to life by his own acting. The most remarkable here is undoubtedly Alex Rosen playing a seriously ill king, whose gestures are restricted at the same time as they restrict his singing, but who embodies his role as brilliantly as he sings. His performance, like his aria in Givevra, on his hospital bed in the second act, is particularly successful. And Christophe Dumaux as Polinesso, who rejoices in abandoning virtue, finding in crime his true nature like another Iago, works wonders. He even manages to sing while smoking, to amuse himself with the hanging handle of the sick king’s bed, and to show the extent of his range with a magnificent crescendo and descrendo in a confounding naturalness. The other characters are not left out either. Thus Emőke Baráth as Gineva knows how to fall in love with Ariodante, touching in front of her father, and tragic in opening her arms after having been slandered. And Dolinda’s awareness gives rise to a scene of the most real break-up, by rejecting Polinesso. The performers thus give the impression of compensating for what they were not able to do in their songs with their incarnations. A very beautiful direction of actors.

The scenography and dramaturgy are also very interesting. During the overture, children silently act out scenes summarizing what the entire opera will show in three acts, signifying that all this could have been a story of toddlers, if honor, love and death did not weigh so heavily. The German costume designer Uta Meenen has also very intelligently chosen to dress the performers like children. Moreover, the Dutch director Jetske Mijnssen chose to transpose the drama, with the Swiss scenographer Étienne Pluss, and the French lighting designer Fabrice Kebour, in the fifties in a palace furnished simply with a table, a few chairs, and armchairs, the luxury coming from servants in red and white suits, and doctors around the king. They use the space rather through corridors, depths and back rooms, than stage accessories. This purity focuses, on the performers, the action and therefore the drama.