Can you stage Bizet's Carmen like an Offenbach operetta without hurting the play? It could just be a question that you are grappling with. The answer can be seen and heard in Hamburg. Herbert Fritsch provides the resounding proof that it can be done: he throws all Spanish clichés overboard, he keeps the tone light-hearted with pantomimes, slapstick and tongue-in-cheek dialogues ending as usual with a verismo finale. What's more : Hamburg has some good singing to offer, especially by a Russian mezzo and a Kosovar soprano who remain under the radar for the time being, and the equally creative young conductor Yoel Gamzou forces the orchestra into a leading role.
The staging of the overture sets the tone for the rest of the evening. A mischievous extra opens with a pantomime. She picks one of the flowers displayed in a circle and sticks it in her hair. She immediately reminds me of the French Marianne, symbol of the "liberté" that Carmen will sing so vehemently about. That flower may also symbolize the beginning of Don José's misery. It is a colorful bunch that Fritsch has turned up at the gates of the Sevillian cigar factory. José Luna has dressed them all up in a carnival costume. Even Goya hats can be seen in the crowd. This is Spain, after all! Among them are the military, moving like tin soldiers from the Nutcracker. During the music of fate, Fritsch has the crowd kneel before the meter-high statue of the Virgin Mary that he has lowered from the stage tower onto stage. Otherwise, there is only a gold backdrop as the only set piece.
"With the religious symbols, which define my set design for Carmen, there is no statement or morality attached," the director says in the program booklet. Consciously or unconsciously, he nevertheless engages in dialogue with the deeper truths of the opera. For the tragedy of Carmen arises from the Catholic background of Don José whose mother protected him all his life from female perniciousness. Women, his mother taught, are saints or whores. Therefore, he cannot find Micaëla, who is pretty much the incarnation of the Virgin Mary, sexually attractive. His troubled relationship with women makes him immediately yield at the slightest attention from a sex symbol as Carmen. It also explains his neurotic obsession with her, all the way to the end. And so, in the end, the opera Carmen is mostly about Don José whose fate moves us more than that of the title heroine. In the final scene, he is genuinely touching as a broken man with no way out. But the real victim, of course, remains Carmen.
We only recently saw Bieito's reference Carmen go down as warmed-over fare in a routine revival at the Vienna State Opera despite its high-carat cast of Elina Garanča and Piotr Beczala. In contrast, Fritsch's reading is amusing, consistently entertaining bringing an unexpected vitality and warmth to the surface. All dialogues are recited as if it they were by Offenbach. The chosen format allows gestures and facial expressions that would be unnatural in a normal context. In this world of exaggeration, all props seem to be taboo. The cigarreras from the cigar factory smoke virtual papelitos. The letter from José's mother is a virtual letter. The fortune tellers will predict the future with virtual cards, Carmen will die by Don José's virtual knife. But the flower thrown at José's feet is real, and for half an hour he will clasp it in his hands.
The Habanera is the first but not the last opportunity for the Carmen on duty to make herself the erotic projection surface of the men. The coquettish Maria Kataeva never misses an opportunity to put herself in the spotlight as a sexually assertive woman with star power. Her mezzo does not have the same depth as Garanča's and presumably not the same projection. But otherwise, this is an impeccable role debut.
All the choral scenes are compelling, especially both choruses of the cigar makers, fuelled with verve by the orchestra. The differentiated direction of the choristers is a bonus.
Escamillo sees his self-love caressed in the spotlights, pampered by his female fans for the length of an aria as if he were in Klingsor's magic garden. Oddly, Kostas Smoriginas' solid baritone is met with boos. The timbre is not entirely clear, the voice lacks some smoothness and his French is underwhelming. Still, it is one of the highlights of the evening with irresistible handclapping in the chorus. Fantastic is the kick-off of the orchestra after lighting engineer Carsten Sander captures the celebrated torrero in his Las Vegas beam.
The spirited Carmen accompanies her dance for Don José with real castanets. Tomislav Mužek sings his big aria, "La fleur que tu m'avais jetée," very decently with a nice crescendo. The timbre is pleasant, his mastery of the French text is acceptable, the phrasing relies on legato vocal lines. Hubert Kowalczyk also makes a good turn in the minor role of the lieutenant.
During the prelude to the third act, the camera zooms in on the physical engagement of the half-dancing conductor. Just before that, he had the orchestra salute the audience twice. A huge crucifix now stands out against the painted mountain landscape on the backdrop. The smuggling route of Carmen's friends runs along a narrow walkway that provokes vertigo. Not exactly the right place for the fearful Micaëla. Elbenita Kajtazi sings a stunning, technically solid Micaëla. She already provided a first highlight in the duet with José. "Je dis que rien ne m'épouvante" is the quasi-perfect supplication to the God of José's mother.
The mass scenes of the fourth act are again vividly directed. Hilarious is the picador who cannot get his horse under control. For her rendezvous with death, Carmen appears in a long gold dress with a drag. The finale turns out to be classic verismo against the backdrop of a giant Escamillo poster.
What immediately catches the ear with conductor Yoel Gamzou is his free handling of tempo relationships. He takes the paso doble of the overture at lightning speed, a tad too fast in my opinion. He lets bombs explode in the orchestra, places unexpected fermata and lets the orchestra reign in Bizet's score like a hurricane. Perhaps a conductor to follow.
Watch Carmen until October 26 at NDR
