A weak argument: Faust at the ROH
Faust
Royal Opera
Royal Opera House
Stalls C2, £15 (staff offer)
6 May 2019
ROH page
Faust isn’t really my scene; it’s one of those operas the historic popularity of which drives home the other-country-ness of the past. Churlish, I know, to go to something I knew I wouldn’t like and then write about how I didn’t like it, but such things are sent to try us and if you’re lucky I’ll keep it brief. For what it’s worth, my companions enjoyed it, and I suppose they’re right that the one thing Faust is not is boring.
If the Royal Opera wanted to make a case for the greatness of the work and a justification for its continued staging, they haven’t found the musicians to do that. The exception is Erwin Schrott as Méphistophélès, who at least gives the impression that he is having a good time. He is enjoyably loud and mostly entertainingly silly, although his approaching-horizontal laconicism borders on the bit-much – I began to suspect he might be laughing at us as well as at everything else.
Maybe it’s the only sensible approach when the other cast members are as lacklustre as they are here. Irina Lungu, stepping in at the tenth hour for Diana Damrau, has some very pretty, gleaming top notes, but Marguerite is too low for her; I could barely hear her lower down and I was sitting on the third row. As a presence on stage I judge her harshly again; I don’t think Marguerite is much of a role but Lungu takes timidity a bit too far, and needs a few pages out of Yoncheva or Gheorghiu’s book.
At least she looks like she’s trying, though. Michael Fabi-formerly-dabi-ano is fabulous no more. The memory of his Lensky now plunges yet further into the dim and distant past, shoved that way by his unlovely Rodolfo and now by this disinterested Faust. A companion said to me afterwards, ‘given it’s called Faust he doesn’t do very much, does he?’, which I think is a good summary of how little Fabiano makes of this role: he falsettos the high notes, he acts like he’s just woken up. Rare are the times I long for Alagna but I felt it here.
Stéphane Degout is very beautifully French as Valentin (even if I do still think he’s a bit quiet and Young Artist Hongni Wu impresses as Siébel – though, no disrespect to Wu, a more experienced singer might have helped galvanize the whole.
Leading this ragtaggle band is conductor Dan Ettinger. I’ve seen Ettinger before several times and remember approving of his Turandot. But he’s very irritating here, changing the pulse every half-bar, dispersing what little electricity is generated by the cast, in general asserting himself to the detriment of the music’s character. The orchestra and chorus are attentive to Ettinger’s waywardness but, unfortunately, no amount of accurate playing can make up for crass musicianship.
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