After a long quiet summer, music is finally returning to Berlin. Somewhere deep beneath the city, a mysterious figure has pulled the giant lever that sets the machinery of Berlin’s musical life into action once more and now, as you walk down the street, you can almost feel the music humming beneath you. The first signs of life emerged from the Konzerthaus, whose resident orchestra – under the direction of Iván Fischer – opened their season with a delightful semi-staged performance of Le nozze di Figaro which lacked nothing in generosity of spirit or excellence of musicianship.
While the staging itself was accomplished with minimal means – much of the action took place on a raised circular platform at the centre of the stage, around which the orchestra was arranged in four distinct groups – the concert as a whole was a master class in how to make a partial staging as dramatically satisfying as a full production. Of course, the Konzerthaus itself, with its magnificent chandeliers and ornate gilt detailing, provided a naturally appropriate setting for the farcical intrigue of the opera’s various lords and servants. However, much of the evening’s success was the result of inventive and inspired scenography on the part of Herr Fischer who, in his dual role of conductor and director, maintained a consistent balance between strong performances, high theatricality and good humour.
Before the concert had even started, Herr Fischer could be seen on stage, chatting with the musicians and surveying the audience as they found their seats. It was an odd sight, and one kept waiting for him to leave so that he could make his big entry after the orchestra had tuned up. Instead, when the lights began to dim, he simply turned toward the audience with his arm slightly outstretched in order to pre-empt any possible applause; perhaps he wanted to make a welcoming speech. But then, with his other arm, he raised his baton and, before anyone knew quite what was going on, the sounds of the overture began to fill the room. Some seconds later, when the first tutti arrived, the members of the choir – who had, up to that point, been cleverly disguised as members of the orchestra – leapt from their seats, tore off their black tie and set in motion an opening pantomime during which the stage was flooded with costumes. Characters ran an unpredictable course, arranging the props for the first act and surreptitiously placing a variety of eighteenth-century wigs on members of the orchestra, not excluding the conductor himself.
If the rest of the evening could not quite match the sheer physical anarchy of the opening, it certainly maintained the same playful spirit; there were a few tasteful incursions beyond the fourth wall, and characters occasionally addressed their lines directly to the conductor as if he were a participant in the narrative which, in some sense, he was (this particular dramatic trick was accomplished to greatest effect in the ‘sua madre?’ scene from Act III). By maintaining a permeable boundary between the orchestra and the action, the story was given ample room to unfold, and the evening never once felt as though it had started life as a konzertant performance to which stage directions had been hastily added.
Indeed, despite the rudimentary sets and the lack of complex stagecraft, the dramatic turning points of the opera – of which, in Figaro, there are almost too many to mention – were all delineated in highly inventive ways. With a set consisting of only two doors and a two clothes rails, the protracted ‘who’s hiding in the closet’ scene from Act II was especially effective, helped in no small part by the comedic timing of Laura Tatulescu’s intelligent, animated Susanna and Roman Trekel’s wonderfully imperious Count. Indeed, on many occasions, Herr Trekel acted as the comedic lynchpin of the scene, producing a series of incredulous double takes and exuding a sense of steadily mounting frustration.
Vocally, the performances were strong throughout. As Figaro, Hanno Müller-Brachmann brought an appropriate bitterness to the adversarial ‘Se vuol ballare’ in Act I and the disillusioned ‘Aprite un po quegli occhi’ from Act IV; and Miah Persson delivered a remarkable Countess, whose two great moments of despair – the cavatina which opens Act II and ‘Dove sono i bei momenti’ from Act III – were infused with a beautiful balance of longing and resignation. Frau Persson’s voice also happened to be complemented rather wonderfully by Frau Tatulescu, and all the scenes featuring Susanna and the Countess proved a source of great delight. Even the opera’s smaller roles received committed, often excellent performances, perhaps most notably Ann Murray’s sympathetic Marcellina.
However, while the singing could rarely be faulted, it was the musical direction of Iván Fischer that kept the performance in a near-constant state of elevation. He conducted from the side of the theatrical action, without a score but with an obvious love of the music and a profound understanding of its dramatic possibilities. From the first bars of the overture to the stirring finale, Herr Fischer maintained a tight control over the rhythms and tempi, always allowing the music room to breathe but never letting the tension of the drama slacken. The playing throughout was nuanced, lively and clear, but also forceful and incisive. Indeed it would be hard to imagine a more satisfying performance of the score in the present day; to find a reading of similar clarity and consistency one would have to look back to the celebrated late-sixties recording by Karl Böhm.
While no opera production is perfect, perhaps the greatest fault with the Konzerthaus Figaro is that – unless I have missed something in my examination of the schedule – it appears to have been a one-off performance, destined never to be repeated. Of course, the Konzerthaus Orchestra is not a repertory opera company and a season-opening concert should always strive to create a sense of occasion; however, when faced with such a warm-hearted, musically satisfying performance, it seems somewhat of a shame that more people will not have the chance to experience it. Nonetheless, as a season opener, it was both a great success and a promising sign of things to come.
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