Simple. Direct. Emotionally gripping. Hungarian State Opera’s revival of Iphigenie auf Tauris goes a long way in reflecting why Beethoven, Wagner and Rossini were such admirers of Gluck. Director Róbert Alföldiresists the temptation to tinker with the basics. Levente Török brought the best out of the score’s expressiveness and, with few exceptions, the singers and orchestra excelled in a sensitive linking of Gluck’s music and drama.
Loosely based on the play by Euripides, this opera packs a lot into two hours. Yet it does so in a way that reflects Gluck’s desire to do away with opera seria’s Baroque overload. About to be sacrificed by her father, Agamemnon, Iphigenie is whisked to Tauris by Diana and becomes the goddess’s high priestess. She is told that Orestes, her brother, is dead and does not recognise him when he is cast ashore with his friend, Pylade, until seconds before she’s about to sacrifice him on command of Thoas, King of the Scythians. Both are returned to Mycenae by Diana in the end, he as ruler of the Ancient Greek city.
Such a complex plot opens the possibility of a lot to play with. Alföldi keeps it simple instead. The stage remains static, a backstage wall of faux marbles serving as the backdrop for the action. Light, reflecting the world outside, floods onto the stage when its panels open. But when they close, the protagonists are left with the darkness of their inner landscape. That’s all for the staging, except for the sacrificial altar that rises when needed and recedes when not from the stage’s middle. In all, it’s a theme of understatement that costume designer Fruzsina Nagy picks up on as well.
Iphigenie and her followers wear long black garments modelled on the jilbab that cover them from head to foot but leave their faces open. Clad in hoodies, cutoffs and ripped jeans, the Scythians are a rabble of 21st-century street rats, while the suits and ties of the tyrant Thaos and his underlings identify them as the opera’s dominant and domineering figures. The musical lines of Iphigenie, Orestes and Pylades are melodic and lyrical, those of the Scythians and Thaos harsh and barbaric, and Nagy’s costuming reflects thought behind how to dress the characters. She succeeds in making their garments mirror the music.
It is music characterised by orchestral complexity. Yet Gluck – and Richard Strauss, who arranged this French opera for the German stage – strove to give the sung word equal weight. But it’s left up to the performers to make good on such intentions. They mostly did in this Budapest revival.
With her warm and versatile mezzo, Natália Tuznik endowed the title role with vocal and dramatic emotional impact. Her voice resonated with resignation and sorrow as she asked Diana for death on (falsely) hearing that Orest had been killed in Act 1‘s “O du, die mir das Leben gab”. She was alternately fierce, tender or introspective as she weighed her fate and the tragedy of her family. As Orestes, Zsolt Haja’s tenor tended to lightness, leaving him pushing occasionally to be heard over the orchestra.
Pylades, Orestes’ friend, was sung with verve and expression by Zoltán Megyesi. Károly Szemerédy as Thoas, King of Scythia, gave dramatic life to his character, but his baritone lacked some depth in a role frequently sung by a bass. Török kept all the balls in the air in the pit, balancing dramatic pauses, sudden dynamic phrases, and soaring arioso with verve and sensitivity.
Special mention goes to Gabrielle Rea Fenyvesi, not only because she sang her role as Diana with artistry; about to tell Orestes that he can return to and rule Mycenae, she mistook Megyesi (Pylades) for Orestes in the final minutes of the last act, turning to him before hastily correcting her mistake. Alas, even goddesses are not infallible.
Gluck once said his goal was to create “beautiful simplicity” in opera. Done. And seen at the Hungarian State Opera.
