Opera Impressions

Tosca Revisited: Never Let A Sleeping Dog Lie

In the aftermath of the debut of the new production of Tosca at the Met, there was a panel discussion focusing on opera and the art of directing at the New York Public Library. The participants were Luc Bondy, Peter Gelb, Patrice Chereau and Bartlett Sher.

The context of this discussion is described by Opera Chic:

"The funniest thing about last night's event at the NYPL, where Luc Bondy had to justify his life in front of a death panel of Metgoers in the audience and Peter Gelb sort of repeated that yes, the rest of the Zeffirelli productions is really on its way out after Tosca, seems to have interfered with many people's digestion."

One comment that I received with regard to both Tosca and the panel was the following:

"A DEATH panel of METGOERS? Have opera fans become like baseball fans?...Ready to kill for their "team?" What's wrong with doing it a different way once in a while? At the very least it forces us to focus on what we "need" to have there in order to make it pleasurable or coherent for us. And best case scenario we can give other aspects of the opera new attention. Maybe Bondy's Tosca was not supposed to be as religious as Zeffirellis? Maybe she is a more secular Tosca, maybe her piety is actually a fake? So what if that is the way Puccini wrote it. Can opera evolve with the times?"

In the spirit of kicking the sleeping dog, I am considering what my reaction to the recent Tosca performance might have been had I not seen any previous productions nor read the libretto. What meaning would this performance have had for me? Answering this may provide some perspective as to the nature of Bondy's contribution to the story of Tosca.

Act 1 occurs inside of a church. The starkness of the seemingly endless walls of unadorned grey brick left me feeling cold as in the world is a challenging place to live, full of threats. There were people being pursued by groups of Scarpia's men dressed in black. All of this was punctuated by a large colorful painting of a blond. The scene seemed to be filled up with the jealousy and possessiveness of Tosca and the danger and fear inspired by Scarpia and his men.

Act 2 as opposed to the first act was a warm environment of reds and lascivious action. The upholstery is red. Tosca is also dressed in red. I wonder what this is telling us about her. The red in the scene reflects the heat of passion and sexuality as opposed to the coldness of Act 1. In Act 2, Scarpia cavorts overtly with the prostitutes one of whom bares a breast early on in the scene. Scarpia constantly gropes Tosca. The scene is not just filled up with sexuality and lust, it is sexuality and lust like one of Dante's circles of hell.

Scarpia's murder occurs at the start of what would have been a sexual act with Tosca. The sexuality subsides with the murder of Scarpia into a nothingness of action. The action dissipates. Tosca seems lost, unsure of what to do, staring out of the window. The scene is no longer filled up. There is random and purposeless action. I remain unsure of what is being conveyed at this point. Perhaps, it is that Tosca cannot make sense of her actions or that the impact of her actions does not register with her.  

Act 3 is on a battlement. One feels like one is on a precipice overlooking a vast terrain. The characters in moving about have to be careful not to fall off the wall. Here one is on-the-edge. One is on the edge of a world that was once filled up with jealousy, fear and sexuality. This scene cannot be filled up with anything because it moves off into infinity. Nevertheless, Tosca does emanate love for Mario and faith that things will work out well in spite of what she has previously witnessed. After the killing of Mario, Tosca climbs up even higher than this precipice into a tower - at the top and end of the world. It is unclear what happens to her. She disappears into ambiguity. Does she jump and fall below? Does she ascend to a higher plain? Does she move back into our imagination only to re-emerge at some point in the future in another and different production?

Tosca: Toujours L'Amour Toujours

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.