Someone once said that the typical bar conversation in Boston is about sex, politics and how to manage the Red Sox. I think currently a typical conversation around and about the Metropolitan Opera is how the current Luc Bondy production of Tosca sits with one's own view of a Tosca production. At the recent Tosca performance, I encountered a running conversation during intermission, on the bus and at the elevator back home with a variety of different people. In these conversations, I did not hear one favorable word. Instead, I heard a variety of perspectives on the many ways that Bondy's production has done a disservice to Tosca.
Once I digested the great breadth of comments and articulated my own perspective, one other thing became clear to me. Opera lovers love to talk about opera almost as much as they enjoy listening to its music. And, a significant number of opera lovers love to bemoan the loss of the 'good old days" whatever they were. I include myself in both of these categories. Opera lovers love to discuss the pros and cons of every performance and absolutely delight when some seemingly bad choices in a production end up with a homerun ball getting hit up into the balcony bleachers.
There has been a good deal already written about this production. I find myself compelled to add to the opera chatter. I think the overriding question is what is the balance between a movement into minimalism and staying attuned to the meaning behind the libretto.
I was not particularly troubled by the first act. It did look like it took place in a school yard, but I chalked that up to the minimalist perspective of the performance. My companion informed me that minimalism stretches the imagination by providing only a small number of cues.
The second act portrayed Scarpia as a sexual sleazebag and at one point had him groveling along the floor on all fours. This did not square with my perspective of Scarpia as totally driven by power. It did not bother me when in the death scene, Tosca did not place the obligatory candles and crucifix around and upon the dead body of Scarpia though I appreciate how doing so advances the meaning of the opera. Given the way the opera was staged, candles might have been out of place.
Where I became dismayed was watching Tosca meander about aimlessly looking for things to do after she kills Scarpia in place of the more purposeful setting out of the candles and the crucifix. I did note how Tosca's stabbing Scarpia in the stomach in the Bondy production did not match up with her description later on to Mario when she says that she stabbed Scarpia in the heart.
It was in the third and final act that I finally did get pushed over the edge (which is more than I can say for Tosca). I hold as the epitome of opera drama the point when Tosca throws herself off of the wall to her death. For me this moment captures the full emotional depth of opera, itself. I am not exactly sure what happened at this point in the Bondy production. It certainly was not Tosca throwing herself off of a wall. I wish I could relate what was portrayed on the stage, but I am still mystified. At that moment, I found myself saying to myself though likely somewhat audibly, "What the **!!##* was that?"
There are some virtues to the Bondy production. One virtue is that it required me to deconstruct the meaning I had previously given to Tosca, the opera and try out other meanings, especially via the second act. The production helped me to consider other versions of evil in the person of Scarpia. I had to let my imagination wonder in the death scene to try to interpret what was going on for Tosca. Even an ineffective effort on the part of Bondy is still sufficient to trigger this deconstruction and to that extent, it is refreshing. Whether I might choose another more contemporary approach to the opera or the more traditional reading as preferable is another issue.
Before continuing on to my second point, I do need to say that I thought the singing was simply marvelous. Karita Mattila as Tosca, Marcelo Alvarez as Mario Cavaradossi and George Gagnidze as Scarpia had me engaged and delighted throughout the entire performance. Maybe the moral here is that great singing will trump a "less than ideal" production."
My other insight from the evening is that opera lovers love to discuss opera. I think it is part of the full opera experience, just as baseball fans love to discuss baseball (in and out of bars in Boston). Me included. They delight in voicing a variety of perspectives, explanations, reminiscences of performances long past and listening to those of others. They love talking about the good old days which in the case of last evening included, of course, placing candles by the corpse of Scarpia, performances at the "Old Met," Callas as Tosca and Pavarotti. Finally, I am led to say, thank goodness for strange productions for giving us the fuel for our endless discussions.