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The orgy scene becomes a swimming lesson in this production. Photo: Ruth Walz/Opéra National de Paris |
I must admit to having more than a little emotional investment in the opera King Roger (Król Roger), since Simon Rattle’s recording of the work with the City of Birmingham Orchestra was the final …
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The orgy scene becomes a swimming lesson in this production. Photo: Ruth Walz/Opéra National de Paris |
I must admit to having more than a little emotional investment in the opera King Roger (Król Roger), since Simon Rattle’s recording of the work with the City of Birmingham Orchestra was the last one on which I made a minuscule contribution as member of the chorus before hanging up my tonsils. My attachment to the opera may have as much to do with the many hours spent with my fellow singers trying to get our tongues round the multi-consonantal Polish language as with its wonderful music.
King Roger, first performed in Warsaw on June 19, 1926, but conceived as early as 1918, is a remarkable work by Karol Szymanowski, written at a time of crisis in both European culture and the composer’s own life. Set in 12th-century Sicily, the action revolves around the age-old conflict between Apollo (representing reason, order, civilization, the West) and Dionysus (symbolizing instinct, sexuality, the unconscious, the East). It can justifiably be called the first gay opera, several decades before Benjamin Britten’s own operatic attempt at depicting the struggles between Apollo and Dionysus in Death in Venice. The story is seemingly simple. King Roger (sung in this production at the Bastille Opera by Mariusz Kwiecien) is dismayed to find his wife Roxana (Olga Pasichnyk) leaving to follow the enigmatic Shepherd (American tenor Eric Cutler), but when Roger meets the Shepherd, he finds himself irresistibly drawn to the forces of passion and disorder that the Shepherd incarnates.
Musically, the opera is a joy. Act I is launched by glorious unaccompanied choral writing, followed by the Shepherd’s sensuously seductive singing. Act II includes the Oriental exoticism of Roxana’s ecstatic aria as well as the disturbingly orgiastic orchestral score. Roger’s final invocation of the Sun at the end of Act III is boldly affirmative. It remains a mystery why this opera is not performed more often. In this production, the music is well served by all the soloists and the Orchestre de l’Opéra National de Paris and is expertly marshaled by conductor Kazushi Ono. Kwiecen in particular is powerful and moving as Roger.
But what can one possibly say about the inept, inane, crass production? It is not that director Krzysztof Warlikowski lacks ideas; he simply replaces all cohesion or meaning with silliness of pointless proportions.
In the first act, for example, the powerful confrontation between Roger, Roxana and the Shepherd is negated by distracting live images projected onto a huge screen by a roving cameraman who spends an inordinate amount of time filming the legs of chorus members. For no discernible reason, the orgy scene in Act II is turned into a swimming lesson for geriatrics. And when the Shepherd is transformed into Mickey Mouse in the final act, it becomes abundantly clear that this production is not waving but drowning.
Go to a performance for the rare chance of hearing a musical gem beautifully sung by an excellent cast; but if you happen to be at the final night, make sure you boo the director loudly if he dares to show his face.
Opéra National de Paris: Place de la Bastille, 75012 Paris. Métro: Bastille. Tel.: 0 892 89 90 90 or + 33 (0)1 71 25 24 23 (from abroad). Remaining performances: June 25, 30 and July 2 at 8 p.m.; June 28 at 2.30 p.m. Tickets: €5-€180. www.operadeparis.fr
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