Leave it to the French to portray Goethe’s dastardly King of Hell as a jaunty 16th-century boulevardier, a bon vivant in red leggings, tight-fitting doublet, pointy shoes, and a pheasant feather in his cap. That’s how this anti-hero has been depicted on stage ever since Charles Gounod’s masterpiece Faust debuted in 1859 (revised with ballet and sung recitatives in 1869). Sir David McVickers’ production for London’s Royal Opera in 2004 plunked Goethe’s medieval Faust into France’s Second Empire, with top hats, opera cloaks, and demimondes from the Moulin Rouge, here called Cabaret L’Enfer.
The feather remains in Brigitte Reiffenstuel’s fetching costumes. Gounod’s avatar even makes a guest star appearance at the climax when Marguerite is saved from damnation. Wearing wings and stovepipe hat, heavily bearded, he pronounces the young woman’s salvation. Does this image mock Gounod’s sentimentality or this opera’s semi-religiosity, or us, or Gounod? Whatever the intent, the effect is comic. Wings? Really?
Like Hector Berlioz, Gounod butted his head against the stuffy Paris Opera, but his early stage works were failures, some lasting one performance. He wrote cantatas, songs, and the famed Ave Maria, arranged from Bach. But then lightning struck, and when Faust premiered at the Théâtre Lyrique, Paris couldn’t get enough of it. An immediate success, it spread internationally and became the most famous French opera. I think it still holds that title. (Carmen is right up there, for sure.) Faust finally made it into the Paris Opera’s inner circle with the 1869 revision.
In response to the bloated Meyerbeer Grand Operas, which had run their course, Gounod lightened the whole structure of stupendous sets, convoluted plots, and divas more important than what they were singing. But what singled out Gounod was his utter facility in writing melodies that revealed character while startling the ear with a most pleasing lilt that remained instantly memorable. His was a rare talent, not the only one, of course, but the opera world in France – which was the center of the music world circa 1860 – needed freshness and novelty, and that’s exactly what Gounod supplied. Faust set the template, as did his Romeo et Juliette (1867), but his later works were as unsuccessful as his earlier ones had been. You’d be hard pressed to ever hear or see The Queen of Saba or Mereille. Time for revivals? Gounod set the staid Parisian opera world on fire – twice – yet he influenced it tremendously.
Faust is filled with stunning music that you will surely recognize: the stirring “Soldiers’ Chorus;” love ballad “Salut! Demeure chaste et pure;” the famous coloratura showstopper “The Jewel Song;” demonic harmonies for Mephistopheles’ “Song of the Golden Calf;” devotional hymns for the church scene, and that incredible closing trio “Anges purs, anges radieux.”The opera moves fast under Carré and Barbier’s libretto (the Rodgers and Hammerstein of the French Second Empire) that slashes Goethe’s play to the bone, but allows each character to have their moment in the spotlight. Maestro Giacomo Sagripanti, making his HGO debut, doesn’t move quite as fast, but Gounod’s music is so bewitching we don’t really mind.
Overall, the singing is quite good, in one case exceptional. International tenor Matthew Polenzani looks a bit too old for youthful Faust whose pact with the Devil has morphed him into a stud. His lower register was on robust display during the love scenes with Marguerite, but his top notes were belted without much finesse. He could hit them but didn‘t look comfortable doing so. South African soprano Pretty Yende was right at home in this role that calls for gorgeous phrasing and plummy tone. Her character doesn’t have much dramatic development. Simple, devout Marguerite hardly displays the range of Isolde. Her character is mostly a patsy, easily lured by Mephistopheles’ casket of jewels and the sweet purrings from Faust. She’s a perfectly acceptable stage virgin in 1860s Paris. And gets a mad scene to boot. Yende sounded great. This role is definitely in her sweet spot.
Bass John Relyea made a mesmerizing devil, always drawing our eye to him. Solid and tall, with a great long wig, he towered over the stage with an undeniable sexy force. And that voice! He boomed his denunciations, curses, and commands, but still mewed gently when he needed to be at his most devilish. He was majestic. Mezzo Sun-Ly Pierce, in the pants role of Siebel, Marguerite’s unrequited love, projected with dazzling clarity and a voice that ran full. If velvet could sing, it would sound like Pierce.
But the great reveal of the evening was baritone Sean Michael Plumb as Valentin, Marguerite’s soldier brother who’s her protector until he goes off to war and Faust makes his move. He sang Charlotte’s suspicious stuffy husband Albert in Massenet’s Werther three years ago at HGO. What a difference time makes. He has blossomed. He has heft, beauty of tone, impeccable diction, stage presence, and a sumptuous voice that reminds one of past greats Milnes, Merrill, Hvorostovsky. Think what he’ll sound like in three more years! If only Gounod had written Faust as a baritone.
The famed Act V “Walpurgisnacht ballet” remains excised, as it does in nearly every opera production. The only place to hear its haunting beauty it is at New York City Ballet when it programs George Balanchine’s 1979 neo-classical work.
Faust is an international standard, always in the rep somewhere, and is the ninth HGO production since the 1961-62 season. Gounod’s old chestnut still bewitches. It’s the original devil of an opera.
Faust continues at 2 p.m. Sunday, November 1; 7:30 p.m. Saturday, November 7; 7:30 p.m, Friday, November 13 (Masquerade Night); and 2 p.m. Sunday, November 15 at Houston Grand Opera, 501 Texas. Sung in French with English surtitles. For more information, call 713-228-6737 or visit houstongrandopera.org. $29 – $329.50.
