Conductor, Antonio Pappano; Elektra, Ausrine Stundyte; Chrysothemis, Sara Jakubiak; Klytämnestra, Karita Mattila; Orest, Łukasz Goliński; Ägisth, Charles Workman; Orest’s Companion, Michael Mofidian
This is the first time I have seen Elektra live in almost 50 years. I have not been to a performance of the work since 1977……and I definitely heard Birgit Nilsson sing the role. Quite when I did so is another matter – I might have been to the classic ROHCG performances of Elektra in 1972 with the (originally 1953) production involving Birgit Nilsson in the title role, Chrysothemis sung by Helga Dernesch and Clytemnestra by Regina Resnik, conducted by Georg Solti; I cannot imagine why I wouldn’t have gone to a 1977 run conducted by Carlos Kleiber, no less, with Birgit Nilsson and Gwyneth Jones, and, indeed, this may have been the one I went to – but if so I have zero memory of this. I am pretty sure I didn’t go to both the Solti and Kleiber performances. I am also confident I went to a performance conducted by Colin Davis in 1975, with Elektra sung by Danica Mastilovic, Chrysothemis by Berit Lindholm and Clytemnestra by Kerstin Meyer
This was a new production and was as fine an Elektra as I’ve ever heard, I think, and certainly an improvement on that old 1950s ROH production visually and dramatically. I hadn’t realised that the UK premiere was as early as 1910, with Sir Thomas Beecham conducting at the ROH, along with Strauss, who gave two performances.
The set – as is appropriate with Greek tragedy – adopted the principle of the unity of place: there was only the grey outside wall of a big 19th century house, with large windows and a door at the back of stage left with a large staircase to look at throughout the opera. Lights came off and on in the house, which we saw through the windows, and people moved backwards and forwards in the corridor behind them, looking out at the courtyard in front of the wall where the action takes place. So all this effectively emphasises the inherent inside/outside dichotomy of the piece, and the closed-in feel of Klytemnestra and Aegisth’s life. There’s a sort of cellar entrance which Elektra goes in and out of, in the courtyard, not always with much perceived intention (is this the bath-house where Agamemnon was killed?). The costumes are difficult to place – possibly 1940s/50’s for most of the cast, though Orest looks 21st century (is that an idea of a future destroyer of a decadent group of people?). Really, there seemed to be no obvious reason for the specific placing of the story, but equally it didn’t particularly bother me and wasn’t a distraction. There were in fact no big directorial ideas, more a close focus on the personalities and interactions involved. That spareness too seemed appropriate to a Greek tragedy and it’s good not to be overblowing the grotesqueries inherent in the plot (there was a nervous titter from a few people when Klytemnestra screams as she dies, which reflects the fact that the audience was gripped by the plot, and helped to do this by the understatement of the production).
Elektra wore a black and white parlour maid-type dress, as did all the women on stage apart from Chrysothemis and Klytemnestra while the male minor parts wore dinner jackets or suits – Orest had long hair, a jacket and tie. Chrysothemis had a 1950s flouncy pink dress and Klytemnestra a ball gown, jewellery and wrap. All the main characters on stage played their roles again in a somewhat understated way, which made one understand their predicaments more, and even feel for them – Klytemnestra, gripped by the horror of the past was not a wicked old witch; Chrysothemis’ search for a way out was moving, and all the main characters seemed tortured by a quest for love. All in all a production like this that doesn’t get in the way has solid virtues, the main one being that it gave a high quality cast the space to explore their roles.
In many ways the stars of a distinguished evening were Pappano and the orchestra. Through the various manifestations over the years of the Solti recording (vinyl, CD and MP3), I think I know this work well, but Pappano brought out countless orchestral details I’d never heard before – fluttering flutes, burbling clarinets, sounds of chamber music detail – particularly in the scene between Elektra and Chrysothemis. At the same time this wasn’t beauty for beauty’s sake, leading to a sapping of the work’s energy. Pappano’s reading was rhythmically taut and exciting but also lush (? maybe a little too much so, in the recognition scene which went very slowly after the initial frenzied orchestra – but it is the emotional heart of the work). The acoustics of the ROH do not lend themselves well to this kind of mammoth late-Romantic work, but all the main climaxes were appropriately noisy, with the last few bars truly stunning (and totally together)!
Ausrine Stundyte as Elektra was a last minute substitute for an indisposed Nina Stemme. Her voice is not a heavy Wagnerian one (and it is normally Wagner singers who take on this role). She can hit the high notes but not in a powerful Nilsson-like way. This conveys a sense of fragility. What she has is a voice of warmth and subtlety that, in some of the quieter moments outdid Nilsson in some of the beauty of her phrasing. This perhaps slighter voice goes well with a less than manic view of the role -Elektra here isn’t so demented and fixated, but more a tragic haunted figure – at the verge of total collapse at the end. Her attempts to dance were truly disturbing (though I thought her final collapse came a bit too soon, before the orchestra signifies it.) Sara Jakubiak was very impressive – in some ways a bigger voice than Ausrine Stundyte, and this vocal strength excellently conveyed the essence of the character, her sense of wanting to escape and live a real life. She had probably the best diction of the evening. Karita Mattila as Klytemnestra was also very impressive both in her acting (with no hamming) and in the warm lower register of her voice.
One slightly odd thing I found, listening intently to this work live, is that, 50 years ago, I found it impressively dissonant, abrasive and ‘modern’. Listening to it now, it feels very much like the other top drawer Strauss pieces, and I don’t really now see that there was a ‘path not taken’ in Strauss’ career. The path from Elektra to Rosenkavalier is entirely straightforward once you consider the very different subject matter of these two works……..But I am also impressed anew by the concision of the piece – how many themes have their origin in the three note Agamemnon theme which opens the work. Concision is not something you associate with Strauss in his later works. I guess in that concision does lie some link with the 2nd Viennese School………..
John's musical journey 