Opera News & Press

Review of Manon in the St. Bernard Voice

Read a review of Manon Lescaut in the St. Bernard Voice.

October 2008

Christina Vella

Giacomo Puccini’s “Manon Lescaut” is talked about a great deal in opera circles, but one does not get many opportunities to hear it. Perhaps because opera companies also keep Jules Massenet’s “Manon” in their repertoires, they are reluctant to present the same story too frequently to audiences. Until last week’s presentation, “Manon Lescaut” had not been played in New Orleans since 1974, though it contains some of the most glorious music in all opera.

When Puccini composed “Manon Lescaut” in 1893, he was working from the same novel Massenet had used less than ten years earlier, “The Story of Manon Lescaut” by Antoine Prévost. Puccini himself planned the libretto. He must have had some trouble with it, since the actual writing was done by a sort of committee of five.

Puccini followed Prévost’s story more closely than Massenet and the result was a simpler, more affecting plot of four detached scenes: Des Grieux falls helplessly in love with the shallow Manon. She runs off with him but then leaves him for a wealthy, elderly admirer. When Des Grieux follows her, she abandons the old man, who has her arrested and exiled to the New World. Des Grieux goes with her to Louisiana, leaving behind his family and his student life. But once arrived in the desolate colony, life is too hard for Manon, who dies in Des Grieux’s arms.

The lovelorn words Prévost gives to his hero Des Grieux are quite moving—a  quotation from the novel appeared  above our proscenium prior to each scene. Nevertheless, if ever a work cried out for a modern presentation, it is “Manon Lescaut,” mainly because the opera is based on an early 18th century play that was already a little arcane when Puccini overlaid it with late Romantic music and heartbreak. The opera always seems a little out of whack, with bewigged and prancing dandies pouring out their soaring lust and love in surroundings that are either primitive or palatial. The period of Louis XV is just too remote for us to empathize with the intimate sufferings of a Des Grieux or the cruel betrayal of a Geronte. It is hard to take seriously the passion of the young lovers when, for example, they fall in each other’s arms in the second act in full wig and costume, even if they do almost manage to get on a bed.

Thus, the only fault that can be charged to last week’s remarkable production by the New Orleans Opera was that it was too large and formal for the limited space provided by McAllister Auditorium. On one hand the little theater makes it possible to see and hear the opera up close, with an orchestra that is on floor level. On the other hand, operas such as “Manon Lescaut” that feature a big chorus tend to look crowded, and with huge gowns and swords added, simply overdressed.

Stage Director Elizabeth Bachman managed the group scenes pretty well. But she would have been well advised to keep all the soloists as far forward as possible during their grand arias; it seemed that someone was always singing his most important melodies too far upstage. Designer Peter Dean Beck did as much as possible to provide practical but evocative scenery.  

What about the important part, the singing?

It was splendid, absolutely splendid. Roy C. Smith as Des Grieux has a ringing, powerful tenor, never too bright, always even and consistent.  Smith is a fine actor, but even if he were not as skilled as he is at using his body to convey frustration and impulsiveness, his voice would provide more than enough expression. Every phrase was clean and suffused with warmth. All of his high B’s and A’s (34 A flats, 39 A naturals, fourteen B flats, and four B naturals, is it?) were unforced, exactly on pitch from the very start of each note, and yet somehow as rich and poignant as Puccini must have intended.

Brian Mulligan as Manon’s brother Lescaut was no less riveting. What a pleasure to hear a radiant baritone with so much musicality in every line!

Mulligan’s voice is full and intense, pleasantly hued  when the music allowed a little elasticity, and consistent. Like the other principals, Mulligan knows how to get on and off a long, loud note. His Lescaut was buoyant and free-spirited, both dramatically and vocally—exactly the contrast needed to balance the soulful passion of Des Grieux.

Melody Moore as Manon Lescaut has one of those voices that is so clear and pretty in every range that no matter what she sings, you want to hear more. She has astonishing control, starting phrases from a delicate pianissimo that blossoms to a peal, or smoothly taking down a full-hearted passage to an almost-whisper. One imagines Puccini would have been overjoyed with her Manon.

Timothy Nolan did a creditable job as Geronte, a part that is difficult because it hardly lets the bass get warmed up and offers little chance for him to show off. The madrigal singers and “a singer” who visit Manon—Meredith Hotard, Clarinda Coleman, Micaela Byrne, Angelica Aldorando and Mary Penick Akin—gave major talent to minor roles. And what about Casey Candébat, that lamplighter who lit up the scene with his pure, lovely notes!

Chorus Master Carol Rausch always deserves warm applause, never more than in this opera where the chorus makes or breaks so many moments.

Conductor Robert Lyall and the musicians outdid themselves. Since Puccini is perhaps the most orchestral of all opera composers, it was easy to hear brilliant solo work from the musicians, and to appreciate Lyall’s nuances and his masterful spacing of musical phrases. Especially notable was Lyall’s clear focus as each singer came into his own in the score. He must have coached the cast and musicians with real insight into the music to have evoked a performance of such overall excellence.