Metropolitan Opera House, Lincoln Center, N.Y.; November 6, 2012—Thomas Adès’ The Tempest has come to the Met. Gloriously received at its Covent Garden premiere in 2004 and then at Santa Fe in 2006, perhaps it has lost some of its energy traveling around; the impression it gave to New York audiences is of a handsomely crafted, well-orchestrated tale that lacks warmth and specific vocal profiles for all but one of the characters.
There is no denying that Adès has his own musical voice: the brief opening storm is turbulent and colorful; very late in the opera, “fantasy” music for Ariel consists of very high strings and celesta. It’s lovely. A duet for Miranda and Ferdinand has charm and sincerity. A fugal quintet near the opera’s close is both engaging and re-kindles some interest that has been flagging up to then. The brass writing can be stunning as well, but the whole somehow is musically diffuse.
The text added to and adapted from Shakespeare by Meredith Oakes consists of rhymed couplets that eventually become irritating—or at least irritating to read with the Met titles; you can only understand a line or two every few minutes as sung. Robert Lepage, roundly reviled for his multi-million-dollar Ring Cycle, here, in association with set designer Jasmine Catudel, creates a magical world, from the wonderful opening storm to the backdrop of Milan’s La Scala opera house, representing both Prospero’s former kingdom and the operatic metaphor. It’s a bit elaborate, but it keeps the eye and mind busy. The addition of a chorus in formal, 18th century garb on the desert island makes little sense, but it looks good; Ariel hanging from a chandelier to terrify the courtiers is a superb coup-de-théatre. Kym Barrett’s costumes range from phantasmagoric to merely good-looking.
The brilliant British baritone Simon Keenlyside is the Prospero, handsome, tattooed, dignified, vengeful, and eventually forgiving. His music, as suggested above, lacks an individual stamp, but Keenlyside can do no wrong: he makes us believe and care about Prospero’s amazingly weird predicament. Caliban is convincingly sung by tenor Alan Oke: the character is both victim and monster. Ariel is the character given a true vocal stamp: shockingly high coloratura passages, with the vocal line hovering around and above high-C for half the role. Audrey Luna is quite good—and acrobatic, to boot—although many of the very highest notes sound as if they are coming from a squeaky-toy. Isabel Leonard’s Miranda is lovely, and after settling into the role’s high tessitura, Alek Shrader’s Ferdinand was more than sympathetic. Toby Spence’s unrepentant Antonio was innocent looking; William Burden and John Del Carlo made the most of the roles of the King of Naples and Gonzalo, respectively. As the comic characters, Kevin Burdette and Iestyn Davies delighted.
The Met Orchestra and Chorus did themselves proud. It must be said that after the sole intermission, almost a quarter of the Met audience had disappeared. The Tempest certainly deserves a hear-through, even if it promises more than it delivers.
