If this be bait-and-switch, play on!

Marketed by the San Francisco Opera as a production, which "contains
violence, sexual content and partial nudity intended for mature audiences,"
Berlioz's "The Damnation of Faust" turned out to be instead a fascinating,
seductive, at times overwhelming stage spectacle.

Yes, there was music too, but assuredly it's the Thomas Langhoff-Jurgen
Rose staging you will whistle when leaving after the two-hour-long,
unwisely intermissionless performance. Rose's set and stage magic will
go into the War Memorial record books as one of the most splendid in the
company's long and distinguished history. The work is 200 years old, the
production (from Munich) is from 1993, and yet all seemed fresh and new.

As to the music - a San Francisco Opera premiere, but in Europe as
frequently-performed and beloved as the annual rites of "Nutcracker" and
"Messiah" are in the US - it was *not* defaced and violated as it happened
with other German imports here, most prominently "Alcina."

No, Langhoff has respect for this work and his "movie treatment" of the
oratorio (seldom performed on stage) makes perfect sense.

The problem with the music at tonight's opening performance was not the
interference of the visual treatment (with a few serious exceptions),
but surprising inconsistencies in Donald Runnicles' musical direction,
and a rather incredible miscasting of the title role.

Faust sings through the work, he doesn't leave the stage for the first
hour, his singing and presence are absolutely vital. David Kuebler,
reported to have "marked" through rehearsals, pretty much mouthed his
arias on opening night too, not indisposed, but simply without the vocal
strength needed in a 3000-seat auditorium. His is a pleasant and mostly
accurate lyric tenor, but being inaudible doesn't work in such an important
and exposed role.

Also, direction and personality combined to present a Faust more of a
nebbish than one of the seminal figures in literature and the history
of ideas. Did this Faust want to do away with himself, sell his soul,
conquer and betray Marguerite? Frankly, my dear...

Leaving a gaping hole at the vocal and dramatic core of the work would
inevitably destroy any other production, but this one had so many strengths
that it still stayed afloat.

Angela Denoke's straightforward, well-sung Marguerite, Kristinn Sigmundsson's
theatrically imposing, vocally fine Mephistopheles, and Virginia Pluth's
affecting Voice from Heaven in the finale helped a great deal, but the
night belonged to Ian Robertson's chorus. It is as it should be because
next to Faust, it is the chorus that's the heart of work.

Time and again, the chorus came to the musical front of the production,
regardless of the impossible physical demands on it, notwithstanding the
need to strip, hump and bump, the chorus sang and it shone. The finale
was exquisite.

Runnicles got everything he could have wished for from the orchestra -
the strings, the brass, concertmaster Kay Stern's violin, David Kadarauch's
cello, Carla Maria Rodrigues' viola, all the woodwinds, but especially
Janet Popesco Archibald's English horn... and yet something was not quite
right.

Runnicles was at his usual forward-moving, powerful self at times,
bringing out perfectly the "Beethoven sound" time and again, but his
accompaniment of the major arias was downright lethargic. Tempi dragged
during both of the great mezzo arias, making the music almost boring.
When he worked with the chorus, however, and in the orchestral segments,
the conductor was at his usual excellent delivery. Chances are he was
overdoing the pampering of soloists, but it didn't help them nor has it
served the music well.

The opening scene of this "Faust movie" is stunning. Rose framed a large,
bright rectangle in the center (a "three-dimensional screen") in black,
the chorus - in formal wear - lined up in front and placed in high boxes
around the stage-within-the-stage. This being a German production, Faust
wears a hat and a trench coat (won't they ever get tired of this), but
soon enough, there is an eye-popping moment (snow-drift-like white shapes
disgorge Hungarian peasants - and a woman who "doesn't belong" and makes
a nuisance of herself), followed by interesting stage action that's
mostly in service of the work.

A gigantic trapezoid, a square funnel flaring out towards the audience,
is where all action takes place. There are hidden doors on the sides to
provide entrance, slots in the floor from which objects rise, Michael
Baer's lighting provides a movie of its own. [For an illustrated version
of this report, see http://www.sandiego-online.com/opera/opera.shtml on
Wednesday.]

Langhoff's idea is to move along the work's 10 scenes fluently and he -
working with Runnicles - succeeded in preventing applause between the
scenes - a rare, important accomplishment. His first "orgy" makes perfect
sense, the chorus telling the story of some naughty priests and nuns
(this is a French work, remember?), but Langhoff can't leave the shtick
well enough alone while he is ahead.

He has a second orgy, during Mephistopheles' invocation of Marguerite's
image, an extended, bizarre, ridiculous orgy (with a funny idea of other
parts of the chorus joining in), but it's an outrage as far as the music
is concerned. This lullaby is one of the most enchanting, magical pieces
of music, all sweetness and shimmering beauty - right alongside the
flower maidens of "Parsifal," the moonlight of "Capriccio," the seduction
of "Die Frau ohne Schatten" - but it had nothing to do with the stage
action here, was completely obliterated by the goings-on.

Still, this was the exception, not the rule. For the most part, "Faust,
the Movie" works very well. All it needs, really, is a tenor.

Janos Gereben/SF
www.sfcv.org
[log in to unmask]