Am I the last to know that countertenor Philippe Jarrousky has become the latest singer to transition over into Conductorland? I've spent nearly 8 hours watching one of the most dazzling performances of Giulio Cesare I've ever encountered, and I dare say maybe one of the best of the last century and the current one. I was expecting - I don't know what - but Jarrousky gave a reading of the score for the ages. While some numbers approached the usual "fast route" where one worries about the singer running out of breath, the conductor reigned those tempi in so that never happened, and the focus remained on the drama at hand. There was also a greater amount of rubato than one typically hears in a Baroque score, with Jaroussky suddenly slowing things down (particularly before a cadenza), allowing his cast to phrase in ways that singers ache to phrase. Here is yet another singer who allows his knowledge and instinct of the voice and singing to influence how he paces, shapes, and colors the score and the marvelous period orchestra Artaserse, responded thrillingly. It was truly a performance to be cherished.
The production team of director Damiano Michieletto, with the contribution of the set designer -Paolo Fantin, costumes by Agostino Cavalca, lighting by Alessandro Carletti and choreographer and movement by Thomas Wilhelm were a dream team, working in concert to put Michieletto's vision across resulting in a thrilling, dramatic show. There is a greater emphasis on the dark seriousness, the treachery, the prophecy of things to come in the production, so the moments of lightness contrast far more than I'm used to in my favorite Handel opera. While the empty stage as a box is oft overused today, Fantin's designs, hidden doors, rising and falling panels that open up, or seal off is clever and makes for a marvelous playing area on the smallish stage of the Théâtre des Champs-Élysées for the singers. While I did not love every moment of the staging (the naked 3 Fates showing up in most scenes, plodding ghostlike in the background) I can say that watching it a second time, I didn't mind some of the odd things I wasn't crazy about, and some scenes I did like - I liked even more.
And what singers. The cast is, top-to-bottom all playing their A Game, fully invested into the detailed portrayals of these characters. Even with that being said, and a true ensemble effort given by all, it is impossible not to single out Sabine Devieilhe's "knocks it out of the park" homerun turn as Cleopatra. In her gold and rhinestone bathing cap, and heels she looks sensational as she sounds, every aria, recitative and scene invested with equal parts power hungry queen, charming paramour and scheming minx. That she tosses this off this incredibly difficult music with such aplomb while doing so results in plenty of cheers that build up to a predictable, frenetic ovation at the final curtain. You know you're in for a treat when during a humorous Non disperar chi sà?ends with a solid, perfect high Eb, as she runs offstage. Later, she seduces all of us as she does Cesare in a V'adoro, pupille for the ages. Sighs all around. Pure wow. Then there is the staging of Se pietà which is easily one of the most oddly compelling moments I've seen on a stage. My my jaw dropped from its sheer mystery of it, as the beauty of Devieilhe's voice took my breath away.
Indeed, a trademark of all of the singing in this Cesare is the sheer virtuosity of the singing. Ornamentations approach "over the top" and while some may say they're on the borderline of poor taste, each ascent into the heavens, or plummet to the depths seems to FIT the character in that moment. da capos are practically rewritten entirely, across and through the melody that never belies, but rather enhances the intent of the music and text. Nowhere is this more evident - or more beautiful - than in the great duet, Son nata a lagrimar for Sesto and Cornelia. Here, Franco Fagioli and Lucile Richardot, their voices a study of contrasts, hers deep and sensual, his light and properly boyish, weave around each other and the line in a display of grief that is overwhelming. I could no more hold back my tears than if I wanted to, and I did not want to.
Gaëlle Arquez is a forceful, dark and sometimes scarily dangerous Cesare, and while she can't show it onstage, she must be having an absolute ball with the role. Her Va tacito e nascosto scared the bejesus out of Tolomeo and Achilla . . . and me!
Michieletto stages every aria, every scene with a true sense of theatrical magic, so much so that I could spend a day writing about each number.
Everybody looks as sexy as they sound, which while not necessary, is always a bonus when it happens. Carlo Vistoli's bad boy Tolomeo, Francesco Salvadori's duplicitous Achilla, Paul-Antoine Bénos-Djian's Nireno, and Adrien Fournaison's Curio complete a truly remarkable cast.
Giulio Cesare is one of my favorite operas and I believe I've heard most if not all of its recordings and likewise have seen - via video - most of the major productions of the last 40 years, and while my favorite staging has long beeen McVicar's Glyndebourne, this cast takes pride of place and, odd as it seems, is - at least for now, my favorite of them all. I'll be returning to it often.
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