Persée was written in 1683, just a few short decades after opera itself was first invented.Bruce Zinger
To experience Opera Atelier's moving, authentic production of Jean-Baptiste Lully's Persée is to vault yourself into the world of the opulent 17th century, with all its extravagant charm and spectacle, yet find yourself investigating concepts of structure, time and narrative in brand new ways. It is a production so finely conceived and presented that it is a history lesson and a work of avant-garde art at one and the same time.
This is the third time Opera Atelier has presented this baroque classic (this production's going to Versailles in May) and it is the most fully realized version yet of the piece that in many ways created the international reputation of the company.
Persée was written in 1683, just a few short decades after opera itself was first invented, so to see this work in an original staging is like using the Hubble telescope to peer into the universe in its first formative hours. And what those fresh early days of opera tell us is that elements that eventually hardened into discrete entities all originally flourished together in a teeming cauldron of newly emerging artistic constellations. Now we have distinct recitatives, arias, orchestral interludes, choral segments and dance numbers in our operas. In Lully's time, all these were blended together, and the boundaries between them were porous. What that means is that the intensity of the musical experience in baroque opera, when done well, is much more gripping and all-encompassing than in many modern productions. You are totally absorbed into the story, theatre, spectacle and atmosphere of the piece, in a way that is very old and quite novel at the same time.
And Opera Atelier's production of Persée is very well done indeed. The experience starts with the staging of the piece itself, on a set that is beautifully designed, simple when necessary, full of stage machinery, (real dei ex machinae) and cartoon monsters when called for. And true to the style of baroque stage delivery, director Marshall Pinkoski has created a gestural language for his singers that is more choreography than stage direction. Extreme gestures, delivered with overt rhetorical flourishes – hands clasped to breasts, arms thrown beseechingly wide, bodies collapsed in pain – create an involving spectacle, even as they somewhat distance us from the action on stage. And the plot of the opera itself – part love story, part myth (centring around the beheading of Medusa), part royal allegory – allows us to move between levels of meaning at will, providing a richness of experience denied to more realistic operas.
But in the end, it is the quality of the music and the performances that make this Persée so special, and musically, there is hardly a false note struck all night in this fine production. Without naming each performer in turn, let me pause to note the special power of Peggy Kriha Dye, as Merope, the sister of the queen of a kingdom threatened by the gods, and hopelessly in love with Perseus. Kriha Dye was riveting in each of her stage appearances, with a full, expressive voice, commanding total attention. She was matched in her lovesick misery by Vasil Garvanliev as Phineas, Perseus's rival for the beautiful Andromeda, who presented the pain and anger of his character with complete elan. Carla Huhtanen was a regal and beautiful Cassiope, Queen of the realm, Mireille Asselin a winning and winsome Andromeda, and Christopher Enns, (even with a cold), a compelling and athletic Perseus.
And, as is often the case, with Opera Atelier, the real musical engine for the proceedings is in the pit, with the Tafelmusik Baroque Orchestra, led by David Fallis. Lully's score for Persée is unlike anything we hear in modern opera. It bubbles along in a deep subterranean flow under the proceedings, erupting now and then in an aria here, a recitative there, or a dance number, an orchestral passage, a passage of continuo – a constant presence in which is read the entire emotional catalogue of the opera. Tafelmusik provided this support brilliantly, giving the performance the soundest of musical bases.
Persée is a revelation of sorts. It could be a lovely museum piece, enclosed in a sealed glass case, which we gaze at from a comfortable distance. Instead, it's a compelling, involving, artistic experience, old-fashioned and very modern at the same time, which expands our understanding of time scales, narrative techniques – in a word, what constitutes the beautiful in musical art.