As the curtain descended yesterday to end Opera Atelier’s performance of Lully’s systematically evolving Armide, what came to mind, of all things, was music certainly from another musical era, Sviatoslav Richter’s sublime recording of the first movement of Schubert’s Piano Sonata in G, D 894. With its sense of all-encompassing continuum through worldly elements in time, Richter’s recording requires one’s submission to inevitability that contains climaxes but not resolution, contains a permeating undercurrent of destiny in which human lives play their part.
Such ruminations were short-lived, however, as I met in the lobby an acquaintance who enthused, “What did you think of the flaming cock on Hatred? And the blue buns? And the flaming testicles?” Didi had been seated intimately close for such observation in Row B and continued, with sadder voice, “Love had super wings but was otherwise not well-endowed.” So, as you can already imagine, this production appeals to both mind and body, fuels mental and physical passions simultaneously, and throughout proves to be a very sexy show.
Allow me to quote the program notes to introduce the plot: “The action primarily concerns the Muslim warrior princess Armide and the Christian knight Renaud. Despite her virginity, Armide’s greatest power lies in her sexual allure, which eradicates the aggressive instinct in men. Armide is protected by the fact that she herself has never experienced desire. Renaud also draws his strength from an almost mystic virginity which renders him impervious to Armide’s allure.” But, yes, you have guessed correctly: things heat up and are never the same again.
There’s too much of special merit in this production –directed by Marshall Pynoski, conducted by David Fallis, choreographed by Jeanette Lajeunesse Zingg, set designed by Gerard Gauci, costume designed by Dora Rust D’Eye, lighting designed by Bonnie Beecher- to sing its praises adequately. Each one brings abundance of imagination to an organically and richly realized whole and, as a result, a sense of freshness prevails throughout. If Lully’s operatic idiom lives and breathes poise, composure, and propriety, Opera Atelier’s production proves that such decorum possesses a very hot centre ready to burst.
This Armide is unmissable, partly because it is superbly theatrical, partly because, like all art of substance, it penetrates the zeitgeist of its time and in turn achieves universality. But let us count the other reasons, at least some of them. That orchestral gem that is Tafelmusik offers many masteries we now expect of them: a blend of individual resonances and collective lightness of touch, the coexistence of soufflé and storm as it were, an inherent lilt, an acute awareness of potential for tonal shapings and compelling phrasing, an approach to playing that vibrates with commitment. And this time we also have dueling –well, complimentary- theorbos on either side of the pit
Armide is here directed with a knack for precision and clarity in defining individual beings and the opera’s narrative purpose, always with easy touches of charm and comedy emerging as needed to please. The chorus, and occasionally soloists, inhabit upper box seats and thus draw the audience into this, yes, alluring world in which the sets are ornate, richly textured, and of eye-commanding hues that facilitate theatrical magic. The elegant script on the scrim provides an exotic and layered effect that seduces. Flat surfaces, with stylized floral, tree and mountain motifs do indeed seem sculpted. Costumes blend bold simplicity of hues and simple lines with ornate and fluid elements that make flesh and garment one entity. Women’s dresses are low cut with results that are lusciously woman while, as Didi noted above, the men are noteworthy in sinew and suggestion of genitalia.
Voice and dance are of equal value in realizing this Armide, and sixteen dancers serve as narrative continuation or as juxtaposed metaphorical commentary. Grace in movement informs both singers and dancers in a manner that, whatever the dramatic intensity, is not melodramatic but beautifully stylized. Sometimes soprano Armide seems also a dancer, and always the stage is densely populated and fluid with flesh that is guided ahead by a compelling linear momentum in the music.
The precision of Lully’s writing features minute points of articulation that all the singers deliver in a manner both declarative and poised. Lully’s music, via Tafelmusik, proves rousing or stately in its delicacy, with, as in the singing, ethereal and poignant musical lines. Still, a tension remains between Armide’s sexuality and the graceful musical context in which she dwells, especially when she moves, stooped, about the stage like a caged tiger going every which way but into freedom.
A comic duo from Renaud’s side of the war provides diversion, all to Lully’s now slightly flippant tempo. Albeit the occasional “O, ciel!” emotion is an unforced given, not something that psychologically builds, in this straight ahead tale. Each aspect of this delicately balanced opera is a necessary component. A bass is a bass, a soprano is a soprano, and each represents a psychology that is more archetypal than simply cut and dry. Hate, after all, like love, is as much a character as an emotion and with each characterization here, we believe both the emotion and the person as a physical presence.
Lully’s opera is never showy for its own sake and, happily, there is singing here, from all quarters, of seamless strands in vocal lines and of elegance in sound, and each voice possesses an inherent and distinct individuality. These vocal sources of much pleasure belong to Aaron Ferguson, Joao Fernandes, Vasil Garvanliev, Carla Huhtanen, Olivier LaQuerre, Meghan Lindsay, and Curtis Sullivan (he’s La Haine/Hate). This solid company reveals many instances of theatrical and musical distinction. One delight in this erotic, exotic, and sometimes ecstatic show is the trio of Armide and her two ladies which, as well as being a vocal delight, is something one might remember as a trio of cleavages.
Colin Ainsworth is “invincible” Renaud who, before he is “beguiled” declares, “I cannot be idle. Only glory attracts me.” Appropriately, his tenor voice, scored mostly in upper levels, possesses a virginal purity of tone that, as it seems immune to the world, is hypnotic in its beauty. In the title role, the dramatically and musically assertive Peggy Kriha Dye, with a compelling timbre and a physically expressive presence, is Armide. Through crisply defined gestures and a tonally bold voice that combined make Armide a compelling vehicle of varying emotion, she a rich creation of inner tension and succinct expressions of passion. She is boldly forward in warrior confidence that imbues her sensuality, a blend of martial authority and barely controlled sensuality. She seems genuinely torn between a need for vengeance and the beckoning of love. One rarely finds a performance of such unwavering female potency, one which balances the polarities of being. She is a thrilling centre for memorable production.
In May, Opera Atelier takes this production to the Opera Royal de Versailles and this summer to the Glimmerglass Festival in Cooperstown, New York.
