by Paul J. Pelkonen
The emergency Wozzeck: Matthias Goerne.
Photo by Marco Borggreve © MatthiasGoerne.com
Even before this bit of operatic gamesmanship this revival of Mark Lamos' Spartan-but-sturdy production was an occasion for excitement. For one thing, it featured a podium appearance by music director James Levine, conducting a work that has been one of his repertory specialties for the past three decades. For another, it also marked the return of soprano Deborah Voigt to the Met stage in the crucial role of Marie, Wozzeck's unfaithful mistress and the target of his murderous obsession.
Turning in his mechanized chair to greet the house, Mr. Levine did something last night this reviewer had never seen. He lifted one hand and tipped a little salute with one hand before turning to conduct the first act. The Met maestro led each of the three short acts with very slow tempos that brought out the finer points of this score. Details emerged in the texture of the music, including sly references to Beethoven, Wagner and particularly Richard Strauss (a bit of Salome appears when Wozzeck raves about Marie's red lips.) As the tempos slowed, the effect was one of added weight to the ponderous load already on Wozzeck's poor shoulders. Following the solder's death, Mr. Levine led a beautiful, brief elegy to the deceased. This was exquisitely played.
With little or no rehearsal in this production, Mr. Goerne proved an occasionally menacing, always compelling and very sympathetic Wozzeck, tortured by visions of light, blood and fire. He loomed over the other singers, his torment barely contained. There always with a weapon too close to hand, and the threat of violence was present from the first scene. Mr. Goerne caressing Berg's sinuous vocal line, reaching deep into himself for the big moments. This was a fearless performance from a man who knows this part cold.
Ms. Voigt had every opportunity to rehearse her part. And judging from last night, her Marie is competent, but in some ways still a work-in-progress. She did well enough with the dialog and sprechstimme, and was terrific in the prayer scene. However, the loose femme fatale of the libretto is replaced by a vapid, seemingly passive figure who meets her end too easily. Ms. Voigt's only weapon is her tightened, bright high register that becomes slightly shrill when placing high notes at full voice.
Speaking of shrill, character tenor Peter Hoare was an excellent Captain, playing Wozzeck's obsessive-compulsive superior officer with a nasty sharp edge. He was perfectly paired with the Doctor (Clyve Bayley). In his Met debut, Mr. Bayley lacked the chilling lower range that can make this character truly terrifying, but was able to get across the sadistic streak and total lack of medical knowledge that are this character's chief attributes. Russell Thomas was strong in his scenes as Andres, singing with bright tone. Less compelling: Simon O'Neill as a colorless, but loud Drum Major.
Excepting Mr. Goerne, the brightest star of this entire performance was the Met Orchestra, which sounds renewed and very glad to be playing under Mr. Levine's guidance. The pointillist woodwinds and bright, slashing strings contrasted with the clatter-bang of percussion and deep, round tones of the superb brass section. Mention should also be made of the Met choristers, playing an enthusiastic cadre of drunken soldiers, and of young Anthony Reznikovsky's performance as Wozzeck and Marie's newly orphaned child. As always, he had the last word.
