The Last Day of a Condemned Man: Hugo's Novel Becomes an Opera

 As often happens a discussion in another group caused me to think about a new opera I was blown away by a few years ago, but the absence of any subsequent performances of has, I'm embarrassed to admit, allowed me to forget it.  I'm wicked grateful for that discussion to let me revisit the work.  What is it, you ask (okay, probably nobody asked)?  The Alagna Brothers treatment of Victor Hugo's 1829 anti-death penalty novel Le Dernier Jour D'un Condamne - The Last Day of a Condemned Man.  The intense, dramatic libretto was written by all three of the Alagna boys - Roberto, David, and Frédérico - while the powerful, haunting, and frequently beautiful score, is by David.  

The 2014 production for Avignon, was filmed and released on DVD by Deutsche Grammophon but only in Europe and not the U.S. I have never (and will never) understand this idiotic practice. (and don't - you-know-who - come at me with your "reasons" . . . they're still idiotic).  

Fortunately, that tremendous Avignon production is available for view on YouTube - albeit sans any English subtitles. That should not hinder anyone from viewing this (but it of course will).  I've only read the novel in English translation, but even if you only read the synopsis and even if, like me, your French is terrible, this opera packs an emotional punch, going straight to the gut - but also the brain.  

While the libretto changes Hugo's story to reflect both the 18th AND 21st centuries, it is keeping in line with the author's own words of how he wanted his story to be relevant and speaking out against the death penalty and a reform of punishment in his time and for future generations.  This is achieved by taking the unnamed protagonist who in the novel is merely The Condemned Man  in 1829,and creating a counterpart - The Condemned Woman - in 2014.  For those fearful of this kind of adaptation, there is neither time travel nor any interaction between the Man and the Woman - except symbolically and horrifically in the final scene - which I will not reveal here.  

Nadine Duffaut's direction is brutal, meaningful and unfussy in the bleak but brilliant set by Emmanuelle Favre.  Favre has divided the stage in two on a turntable which brings us into both the 1829 prison cell, and the 2014 prison cell which are seen both separately and together, The juxtaposition or the scenes shows us how little has changed over the centuries.  

Roberto's counterpart in this performance is the outstanding American soprano Adina Aaron (who I've been lucky to see several times throughout her career) . . . and the two of them, despite never meeting - make a riveting, heartbreaking pair.  

Reviews were, as one would expect, mixed.  Many critics found the work absorbing, powerful, the score passionate, and darkly melodic . . . lush, while others - who I call the "anti-melodists" , predictably, didn't think it sounded 21st century or harsh enough.  Give me a fucking break people. But listen, watch, and judge it for yourself. If you're like me, you'll be cheering along with the house at Avignon.

As The Condemned Man, Alagna is not only in splendid voice, but reveals again why he has been one of the best actors on the lyric stage for the last 30 years. Adina Aaron is a worthy partner and the two of them, at the curtain, each acknowledge the outstanding work of the other.

The two centuries of costumes are by Katia Duflot and the incredible lighting design of Philippe Grosperrin add to the grand and grim nature of this piece.

Balàzs Kocsàr conducts, bringing masterful performances from the rest of the cast, and the Avignon-Provence Opera Choruses and Orchestra. 

DGG did release an excellent audio recording on CD (with notes by the the Alagnas and others) with Michel Plasson leading Alagna, and Indra Thomas, along with the forces of the French National Orchestra.