New York Metropolitan Opera
22 February 2011
Nova Cinema
to 3 March
Review by Josephine Giles
Cinema
Nova has been showing the Met Opera in HD series since its launch a few years
ago. The seasons always contain many well known and popular operas, showcasing
singers, orchestras and directors that are unarguably the best of the best. But,
for me, the real value of the program lies in the opportunity to experience
operas that are rarely, if ever, presented in Australia.
Nixon in China is one such piece, and is a
must see for anyone interested in opera, or even theatre for that matter. My
disappointment at the mediocrity of much contemporary opera leads me sometimes
to the point of giving up hope for the survival of the art form, but Nixon is an antidote to such despair.
Long term collaborators Peter Sellars and John Adams, through their intelligent
and superlatively creative treatment of a world changing event, successfully
answer the perennial question “why opera?” with “this could only be an opera”.
First
produced in Houston in1987, Nixon in China
has taken 24 years to reach the Met stage, and this production, recorded just
two weeks ago, marks 39 years to the month since the historic event of the
title. Director Peter Sellars (yes, the one who was simply too big for the
Adelaide Festival) suggested the subject matter to Adams and produced the
premiere season. Since then the production has not been significantly altered, but
progressively tinkered with to take into account changes in the cast plus the varying
requirements of opera theatres around the world. This simulcast essentially recreates
a 2006 English National Opera production, with adjustments made for the massive
stage, expanded chorus, and the extra resources available at the cashed-up Met.
Sellars
also directs the simulcast. Its seamless mix of full-stage shots and close-ups
left me wondering just how many cameras it took to film this stage production
in such detail – and where the hell did they hide them all? More lingering
though is admiration for the absolute focus of the performers, keeping in mind
that a simulcast leaves no chance for retakes if one is to blink or cough at an
inopportune moment.
Running
at almost 4 hours (with 2 intervals), this opera would appear to be not for the
faint hearted. However my exhaustion at the end owed more to do with the
emotional power of the opera than its length. Composer and conductor John
Adams, with librettist Alice Goodman, has created an opera that communicates a
profound humanism – not easy when you’re dealing with polarising political leaders
like Richard (Tricky Dicky) Nixon, Kissinger, Chairman and Madame Mao, and
Chinese Premier Chou En-lai.
As
with Adams’s other masterpiece, the opera Doctor
Atomic (about Oppenheimer and the Manhattan Project), Nixon in China starts with, then moves beyond the well documented facts of the historical into a
poetic imagining of the inner lives of the protagonists. It begins with
comparatively theatrical naturalism, accompanied by the now familiar harmonic
and rhythmic patterns of Glass inspired minimalism: the staging progressively
becomes more surreal, as the music – sometimes surprisingly lyrical – takes on
different flavours, including wistful references to the music of the 40s. This
all culminates in a moving meditation on the nature, responsibility, and cost
of power. The final scene, exploring the doubts and frailty of the leaders, all
of whom were on the brink of their political or physical demise, is
devastating. I would never have imagined I could be moved to tears of sympathy
for such a bunch – but I admit – I wept.
Heading
the cast is baritone James Maddalena, who
created the title role in 1987. Now in his mid-fifties, Maddelena at times
struggles with the prolonged vocal demands of the music, but he embodies the character
of Nixon so perfectly it is impossible to imagine any other singer in the role.
The other principals unfailingly match Maddelena’s high standards, with spectacular
singing and detailed, nuanced acting.
The only criticism I have of the
simulcast is the now ubiquitous interviews with the singers as they exit the
stage at interval. Akin to thrusting a microphone in to the face of someone who
has just swum a 1500m Olympic Final and asking how they feel, these interviews are
embarrassing and cringe-making. I
just wish they would leave the poor singers alone so they can get back to their
dressing rooms for a pee, or even a stiff drink, if that is what they need. I
can see the Met is trying to humanise opera singers in the minds of the public,
and it can be interesting to hear these singers talking in accents far removed
from their stage personas. Fascinating too are the shots of backstage at the
Met between acts. However, in a piece as profound as Nixon in China the interviews are a regrettable interruption of the magic created on
stage.
This review appears on AussieTheatre.com
