In the shadow of Puccini
Mary Zimmerman directs Florencia en el Amazonas in New York (****1/2) [cinema]
Author : Johan Uytterschaut
The third panel of the “American trilogy” in the New York Metropolitan is completely different from either Dead Man Walking or X, the Life and Times of Malcolm X. No political positioning here about some contemporary social phenomenon. We are witnessing rather a magical-realistic story in the way of Gabriel García Márquez, suggesting a setting straight out of the 19th century. To put it bluntly: a fascinating woman on a boat. Secondly, the musical style of this opera goes “far” back in time: around the year 1900 (which is also the setting of the drama); anything but “Zukunftmusik”. All in all: we are in Latin America.
Not that I want to seem to be condescending about it. Both Marcela Fuentes-Berain’s libretto and Daniel Catán’s score have their right of existence, and both have been crafted expertly. It is only that, within our Western pragmatic thinking, such a consequently nostalgic point of view is rarely seen. It is therefore not by chance that this opera is quite popular across the Atlantic, and hardly known at all over here. The question is if last Saturday’s show will change that. Even Barbie is more cynical than Florencia en el Amazonas.
This being said, it is absolutely worth while to do a deconstruction of this production’s watch. When I said that Catán reverts to music from around the year 1900, that means his sources are Europe’s then vanguard. Harmonically, Claude Debussy is an important source of inspiration. For the scoring he looked into Maurice Ravel. And the luscious lyrical melodies have the shadow of Giacomo Puccini hanging over them. Again: I am not saying Daniel Catán was some sort of an ennobled plagiarist. He was too much of a master of his trade, and he is innocent of “citations” or the likes. He rather makes an interesting synthesis wherein the three examples I mentioned take turns coming out of the picture. On the other hand, this is not the preferred way of launching some inspiring originality. To say it with a sally: the beginning of the opera reminds us of Ravels “Levée du jour” from Daphnis et Chloé, and an hour later that sun is still coming up. In other words, predictability sneaks in. And we know Puccini learned a lot from Debussy, so the singing parts are bought in the same store.
An other question is whether Daniel Catán could write for singers. Oh yes, he could. And things are getting particularly interesting here, since he never chooses the easy way, notwithstanding the traditional soundscape of this project. It is striking that the most explicitly emotional/amorous parts are the most exacting ones: Florencia, Rosalba and Arcadio – two sopranos and a tenor. They are expected to display a consummate “Italian” control of the singing voice, with an expansive force that can only be borne by a perfect technique. As Frantz puts it in “Les contes d’Hoffmann”: “C’est la méthode”. Honestly: seeing the three singers at work in these parts, respectively Ailyn Pérez, Gabriella Reyes and Mario Chang, is no less than a singing lesson. Everyone knowing what a decent singing technique is about is being confirmed, virtuously so, that there IS something like “the right way”. These being three (originally) Latin American singers could mean that over there they are not (yet) suffering the slings and arrows of the postmodern relativism that is rampant in Western Europe, having the consequence that “anybody” can make an appearance on the record market and is being applauded by the ignorant mob. My apologies to al those who do have something to offer, but the platoon is getting sparsely populated. And the number of thin and uninteresting voices, often displaying a faulty or even no technique at all, is growing at a disturbing tempo.
The secondary parts are less flourishing, but still interesting. Mezzosoprano Nancy Fabiola Herrera (Paula), baritone Michael Chioldi (Alvaro), baritone Mattia Olivieri (Riolobo) and bass baritone Greer Grimsley (the captain) are doing their jobs with varying degrees of success, but never falling through the cracks. Finally, Yannick Nézet-Séguin is once more a passionate conductor.
A word about Mary Zimmerman’s production, most notable in its scenography, which is offering clever solutions in suggesting the Amazone’s bushy banks, and which charmingly displays puppets and dancers to evoke the matching fauna. A defensible choice, in view of the story’s fairy-like (magical, if you prefer) qualities. The personal staging goes along nicely: the aforementioned protagonists are delivering credible and intensely felt characters, thereby enervating the knockdown that opera singers with a voice worthy of the name are unable to act properly (which is being claimed by some self-declared celebrities of early music).
Conclusion: an ode to accessibility never falling into stale nostalgia, and therefore quite enjoyable, partly because of some formidable performances.