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Les Troyens, Mariinsky Opera/Festival Theatre, Edinburgh, review: 'lacked finesse'
A rough-and-ready performance of Berlioz's neoclassical epic
“If this was Scottish Opera, you’d think it was pretty good. But for this festival you expect something better.” Thus did my neighbour grunt in the interval, and I couldn’t put it better myself.
Alas, Edinburgh hasn’t the resources to create anything to rival the polish of an Aix or Glyndebourne production, so it has to make do with a bought-in package from St Petersburg’s Mariinsky Opera – a company always ready to fly out and get something acceptable up and running with minimum fuss or expensive rehearsal.
That’s putting it brutally, but – in the light of this rough-and-ready performance of Berlioz’s neoclassical epic – not, I think, unjustly.
It lacked finesse, vocal distinction, a sense of the special effort and concentration that one associates with a festival. Several stage management mishaps and the Festival Theatre’s unforgiving acoustic didn’t help either.
The best of the performance emanated from the pit, where the inexhaustible Valery Gergiev drove the orchestra fast (the Royal Hunt galloped at Formula One speed) but also drew some sumptuous playing from its lower string and wind sections. The plangent clarinet solo accompanying Andromache’s mime was heart-rending.
If only some of that warmth had wafted to the stage. But the singing was largely unenchanting and untouched by the unique Berliozian melancholy: Ekaterina Semenchuk made an imperious Didon, more convincing in rage and despair than in love; Sergei Semishkur’s handsome jock of an Enée waded out of his depth in his big fourth-act aria; Mlada Khudoley was a toughly effective but prosaic Cassandre, more scold than seer.
Two tenors, Dmitry Voropaev and Yevgeny Akhmedov, gave elegant pleasure as Iopas and Hylas, but the baritones and basses were gruff and the chorus sounded valiant but tired. The overall quality of French enunciation wasn’t as bad as I’d anticipated. For the record, some of the processional and ballet music was cut, and the less familiar version of the opera’s conclusion was adopted.
Yannis Kokkos’ production, which he had both directed and designed, proved inoffensively tasteful but unilluminating and unenergised. The Trojans wore black, the Carthaginians white: the Greeks were paratroopers in fatigues. All very obvious, if a mite discomfiting given the Ukranian situation. Video, mirrors and flights of steps were used to some effect, but the soulful intensity and visionary grandeur of this great and beautiful work never radiated.
Until August 30. Tickets: 0131 473 2000; eif.co.uk