Not Only Opera

Nearly electric: La Damnation de Faust at Glyndebourne

La Damnation de Faust
Glyndebourne Festival
Blue Upper Circle standing 11, £20
5 July 2019
Glyndebourne page

On previous hearings La Damnation de Faust has oppressed me with its madness; in this new and first production for Glyndebourne Richard Jones does his damnedest to make sense of it all, sometimes successfully, sometimes not so much – but the real credit for making this bizarrest of the bizarre at least almost make sense goes to Robin Ticciati, the LPO and Allan Clayton in the title role. Collectively they make as decisive a statement of Berlioz’s ravings (am I over-doing it?) as I’ve ever heard, making a thrilling experience from the top of the auditorium.

Clayton’s comrades on the stage are good too, don’t get me wrong. Julie Boulianne as Marguerite, when the composer finally introduces her character, is absolutely sensational, singing with that vibrant, clear and present mezzo that is just a treat for the soul to hear. Christopher Purves as Méphistophélès is on the whole exactly what you expect from Christopher Purves as Méphistophélès: beautifully enunciated, nicely resonant, and chewing the scenery like nobody’s business – although he was a touch quieter than I’ve come to expect.

This uncharacteristic softness of Purves was perhaps a slightly misjudged balance call with Clayton, who while louder each time I hear him is still on the light side, especially towards the end of the piece. But what gorgeous singing: so finely judged, so elastic, such a frankly beautiful sound that sits always towards the front of the orchestra. His elegant sound, as I say seemingly growing stronger every day, yields pure pleasure.

Clayton’s brilliance rests on a partnership with Ticciati, the gestures of singer and orchestra cleanly dovetailed. I know Berlioz’s Faust is talked of as a masterpiece and I have felt hints of that mastery before – but never has the case been made so strongly that, whatever its considerable narrative defects, as an orchestral behemoth the fabric of this music is lustrous, warmly tactile while at the same time a tapestry of almost mystifying intricacy. Ticciati and the LPO inhabit both that lushness and that detail, melding absolute precision within great yearning arcs. I was impressed.

If I were more forgiving I would be almost as impressed with Jones’s production. There are many moments of prime Jonesian brilliance; I should be thanking him on bended knee for just one of them, of transforming all that preamble stuff of Part I into a backstory for Faust, not only narratively strong but exquisitely responsive to the character of the music. However, Jones is at his best when those interpretative leaps map directly onto the piece’s innate structure – see his Meistersinger, or Rodelinda. Annoyingly that doesn’t happen here, and despite having all the ingredients in place Faust’s most clear-cut set-piece, the ride to hell, falls utterly flat, the absence on stage also affecting the orchestra.

Pursuing his interpretation, Jones has relocated the Menuet des follets from Part III to become instead a kind of coda. Yes it’s very clever, yes it’s very historically erudite and yes it makes sense in the story Jones wants to tell – but putting this particular music at this particular point in the score saps the piece of about the only natural narrative dynamism it has. We get a clever-clogs fizzle, where we could have had an absolutely electric end to this majestic and strange work.