“Manon Lescaut,” the third opera composed by Giacomo Puccini, marked his first true success, particularly with audiences, though critics raised some mild objections. It is widely regarded as the Maestro’s first mature work, showcasing a distinctive personal style that would continue to evolve in his later compositions.

A Troublesome Libretto

Based on the 1731 French novel by Abbé Prévost, the story follows an 18-year-old girl, Manon, who is traveling with her brother to enter a convent. During a stop in Amiens, she encounters a young student, Des Grieux, who instantly falls in love with her. Manon’s opportunistic brother, noticing that an elderly aristocrat, Geronte, is captivated by her beauty, decides to “sell” her to him. Des Grieux learns of this scheme and persuades Manon to flee with him to Paris, where they live in idyllic happiness for several months.

However, when their money runs out, Manon begins to reconsider her brother’s plan and becomes the kept lover of the wealthy Geronte, who lavishes her with gifts, fine gowns, and jewels. Despite her luxurious life, Manon grows restless, longing for her young lover, Des Grieux. When he rushes to her gilded boudoir, they reunite passionately and plan to escape together. But Manon delays their flight to gather her jewels, allowing Geronte to catch them in the act. Accused of theft, Manon is condemned and deported to a penal colony in French Louisiana. Des Grieux, unable to secure her freedom, follows her to America, where they attempt to start anew. However, Manon’s beauty attracts unwanted attention from other prisoners, leading to a violent altercation in which Des Grieux defends her. Forced to flee once more, they meet a tragic end, perishing together in the desert.

Puccini made an unconventional choice by never explicitly depicting the moments of love and passion between the two protagonists. The first act, set in Amiens, concludes with the young lovers eloping to Paris. However, the second act begins with Manon already residing in Geronte’s house, skipping over their time together. Similarly, after the third act ends with the pair boarding the same ship to Louisiana—one as a prisoner and the other as a cabin boy—the fourth act opens with them already on the brink of death in the desert. This narrative structure may stem from the opera’s troubled libretto history, which involved at least seven contributors, including Puccini himself. The result is somewhat disconcerting: a love story devoid of a proper love scene, where happiness remains elusive, always just beyond the stage and outside the scope of the story.

Carriages & Death

Director Barrie Kosky set the story in a timeless setting, with carriages serving as the recurring motif throughout the production. A carriage brings Manon and her brother to Amiens, and a small buggy facilitates the lovers’ escape to Paris. In the second act, Manon’s boudoir in Geronte’s house is depicted as an extravagant, gilded carriage. Later, carriages transport the cages holding the condemned women to the ship bound for America in Le Havre, and in the Louisiana desert, Manon and Des Grieux are seen dragging a wooden cart carrying their last possessions. These carriages are all guided by Death as the coachman, suggesting that the story is, at its core, a journey toward inevitable demise.

The chorus, dressed in elaborate, colorful costumes designed by Klaus Bruns, wore grotesque masks and moved in meticulously coordinated patterns. In the third act, set in Le Havre, Kosky portrayed the women condemned to exile caged like animals, while onlookers mocked them and attempted to touch their legs through the bars. The women, in their vulnerability, sought solace in one another. It would have been easy to hypersexualize the prisoners and turn the scene into a voyeuristic or S&M-inspired spectacle, but Kosky skillfully avoided such vulgarity. Instead, he highlighted the women’s desperation and fragility without objectifying them, creating a deeply moving and emotional moment (a lesson some trendy Spanish directors might do well to heed). Overall, the production conveyed the story with profound depth and precision, offering a compelling and thought-provoking interpretation.

Conductor Marco Armiliato demonstrated his deep understanding of Puccini and his music through an emotional and passionate interpretation of the score. His attentiveness to the singers was evident throughout the performance, guiding them with precision without ever overpowering them. The Zurich Philharmonic Orchestra responded with equal passion, delivering a rich, beautiful sound and executing swift dynamic changes with finesse. A standout moment was the “Intermezzo” at the beginning of Act three, the opera’s only symphonic section, which was performed with remarkable sensitivity and artistry. Together, Armiliato and the orchestra brought Puccini’s music to life with both power and nuance.

Elena Stikhina, in the titular role, was undoubtedly the star of the evening. Her soprano voice embodies all the qualities of a true lirico spinto, with powerful, smooth, and confident high notes, consistently supported by impeccable technique. She portrayed Manon as a strong-willed, almost tragic figure, though she was slightly less convincing in moments that required her to embody the impulsive, foolish nature of a teenager. Her death scene, however, was profoundly dramatic and deeply moving.

Saimir Pirgu, originally slated to sing Des Grieux, was announced as ill, leaving Gaston Rivero with the challenging task of stepping in at the last moment. Rivero’s tenor is powerful and dark, with strong high notes, and he succeeded in delivering a convincing portrayal of the passionate lover. While his darker timbre made Des Grieux seem less youthful than the libretto might suggest, his overall performance was commendable. The final two acts, in particular, were intense and emotionally charged. In the Act three finale, when Des Grieux pleads with the ship captain to take him on as a cabin boy, his aria “No, pazzo son” carried a weight that almost evoked echoes of “No, pagliaccio non son” from Leoncavallo’s “Pagliacci.” Rivero embraced this moment with a heroic quality in his voice, making the scene intensely emotional and gripping.

Konstantin Shushakov took on the role of Lescaut, Manon’s brother. His smooth baritone occasionally lacked projection, but his technique remained solid, and his interpretation was sharply accurate. He effectively captured the essence of the selfish brother, who unhesitatingly exploits his sister for personal gain. Shavleg Armasi, as Geronte, delivered a strong and resonant bass performance, lending both authority and an unexpected touch of nobility to the character of the lecherous old aristocrat.

Among the many supporting roles, Siena Licht Miller deserves special mention for her portrayal of Un musico, the singer who performs an 18th-century-style madrigal for Manon’s entertainment in Act two. Her bronzed mezzo voice made her performance both delightful and memorable, leaving a lasting impression despite the brevity of her appearance.