Faust review – Singing (and dancing) with the devil
Pure hell in Lisbon. Méphistophélès was glad-handing post-performance backstage with Wagner. I came across him, top hat, white pancake makeup, black arching eyebrows and all, his arm around an elderly lady fan’s shoulder, marking his moniker on a contract.
Another soul destined for Hades? Had he not learnt that the Faust contract thing had just gone, um, …badly? Rubén Amoretti was only signing an autograph. The Swiss bass was still on an adrenalin high, as well he might have been after singing a vital Méphistophélès in one of the most enthralling productions of Gounod’s Faust I have ever seen.
The lady escaped, no more youthful than before. Amoretti grabbed Reaction’s opera critic with enthusiasm. I was wary. “No, I’m not soul-selling today.” “Ha! Ha! Let me introduce you to Wagner”. One of the quirks of all versions of Faust is a cameo appearance of the great composer.
Well, it’s easy to make that mistake. He’s really only the friend of Valentin, the doomed brother of the doomed heroine, Marguerite. In other versions — Berlioz, Boito — Wagner has a bigger role and is more of a mentor to the old scholar Faust, who bargains his soul for regained youth. A better sideswipe at the intellectual pretensions of the famous composer, who fiddled with the idea of his own Faust, but never got round to it.
Anyway, Wagner, veteran Portuguese bass, Luís Rodrigues, was charming. For the Reaction archive, I now have a selfie with Wagner and Satan. Beats hands down any of the social media revelations London’s Rooney-Vardy WAG courtfest has come up with yet. Proof I’ve been to hell and back.
Lisbon’s San Carlos opera house, dating back to 1793, is a 1,150-seat jewel box. A National Monument. Stalls, boxes — no circles — and a huge, swagged Royal Box at the rear of the auditorium make for an intimate space. The house has been lovingly restored, but the dominating taupe colour scheme gives a utilitarian feel.
The acoustics are wonderful. The seating is sparingly plush, so sound absorption is not excessive. Backstage is sufficiently deep to accommodate complex scenery. The production on offer, originating from Opéra de Las Palmas de Gran Canária, suited the house well. The settings were not overly complex and scene changes could be accommodated effortlessly.
Antonio Pirolli, the Italian Director of Music of San Carlos is also principal conductor of the Orquestra Sinfónica Portuguesa. He was ever watchful of his singers, leaving them space to dictate the tempo when required. An essential trait in any successful conductor of opera. Head down doesn’t cut it.
As there are many versions of the Faust story on the go, it is worth recapping this Gounod version.
Act I
The overture was accompanied by a moving opening scene of the old Faust being gently sponged down, standing naked, mercifully back to the audience, in a bathtub. Introduced early on, the bathtub will feature, tragically, again.
Faust’s life has been dedicated to studying science. Nothing else. Disillusioned, he resolves to poison himself. He curses God and calls on the Devil. Méphistophélès obligingly appears and offers Faust riches, power, or glory. Faust, however, only wants to recapture the innocence of youth.
Méphistophélès, a tad miffed, agrees to Faust’s request, but there are conditions: on earth, Faust will be master, but in the world below, their roles will be reversed. When Faust hesitates, Méphistophélès conjures up a vision of the beautiful Marguerite. Slam dunk! Faust signs the contract. Youth and a shot at Marguerite!
Mario Bahg, the Korean tenor making a name for himself on the international stage, was Faust, and his transformation from decrepit octogenarian to vigorous youth was handled brilliantly. Méphisto’s black-gloved assistants stripped off the old man costume in a miraculous flash.
Act II
Valentin, Marguerite’s brother and his friend, Wagner, are off to war. Valentin is concerned about leaving his sister unprotected. Wagner starts a song to cheer everyone up but is interrupted by Méphistophélès. Méphistophélès tells fortunes: Wagner, it seems, will be killed in his first battle.
The flowers that Siébel, a youth who fancies Marguerite something rotten, picks will wither. Siébel was sung by Portuguese mezzo soprano Cátia Moreso. She has a lyrical, full mezzo voice with a vibrant low register, but proved incapable of delivering the pathos required of the thwarted Siébel. She seemed cheery, despite her role as serial loser.
Valentin will meet his death at the hands of someone close to Méphistophélès.
Dissatisfied with the wine on offer, Méphistophélès conjures up a better vintage to toast Marguerite. This angers Valentin, and both draw their swords.
Valentin strikes out, and his blade shatters. Everyone is convinced they are in the presence of the Devil. Méphistophélès leads Faust to a place where couples are dancing. Faust sees Marguerite and offers her his arm. She refuses, but so charmingly that he is left even more entranced than before. She is a persuadable flirt.
Act III
Siébel gathers flowers for Marguerite outside her house, represented as a screen with flowers projected. As Méphistophélès predicted, they wither as he casts his hand over them, but holy water seems to restore them. The concept of Satan’s vulnerability to the invocation of Christ is introduced.
Méphistophélès and Faust have been watching. Méphistophélès leaves a box of jewels for Marguerite. The atmosphere of innocence surrounding Marguerite’s home moves Faust.
Marguerite finds the jewels and puts them on. When she looks in the mirror, she sees a different woman and is further confused by the encouragement of her neighbour, Marthe.
Faust and Méphistophélès return, and Méphistophélès flirts with Marthe, giving Faust the opportunity to seduce Marguerite. She begins to give in. Méphistophélès conjures up a garden and makes Marthe run off before disappearing himself. Marguerite realises she loves Faust and they make love.
Marguerite is sung by Russian soprano, Irina Lungu, who made the cover of Opera Now in 2019. She has no views on Putin! At least, not on record. She debuted as Marguerite at the Royal Opera House, Covent Garden in the 2018/19 season and put that experience to good use on the Lisbon stage.
Marguerite is constantly conflicted. Pious, yet tempted by jewels she is intensely and frailly human. Lungu pulled off that conflict perfectly, delivering a bravura performance. She was somewhat bizarrely described in the New York Post as “a shimmering soprano of attractive size”. Whatever, she had a compelling voice and drew the audience into her dilemma.
Act IV
Seduced and abandoned, Marguerite is expecting Faust’s child. She is still in love with him and prays for him and their unborn child. The soldiers return from battle with Valentin. Siébel tries to stop him from seeing Marguerite but Valentin, suspecting the worst, pushes him aside.
Outside her house, Méphistophélès serenades Marguerite on Faust’s behalf. Valentin and Faust fight and, with the intervention of Méphistophélès, Valentin is fatally wounded.
Normally, swords are in play. Here we had a pistol, with Méphistophélès deftly grabbing the bullet in mid-flight, glowing red briefly in his gloved hand before he hurled it back at Valentin, wounding him fatally. It was a great illusion.
Marguerite watches her brother die and hears him curse her with his last breath. Distraught, Marguerite goes to church to pray for forgiveness. When she hears the voice of Méphistophélès telling her that she is damned, she collapses in terror.
Act V
Walpurgis Night. The German saint, St Walpurga, an 8th century abbess, battled pests, rabies, whooping cough — and demons. Where was she during Covid? She is still celebrated annually on the night of 30 April.
Faust and Méphistophélès are surrounded by a group of demons. Faust is shown a vision of Marguerite: she has been imprisoned for infanticide and gone insane.
This scene was momentous. A statue of the Madonna and Christ — life-size — is corrupted by Méphistophélès and the figures dance eerily in his direction before returning to their plinth.
The scene in which Marguerite murders her son was deadly chilling. She drowns him in the same bathtub in which Faust originally bathed. A dread read across. Producer, Alfonso Romero Mora pulled no punch here. This was just one of his serious cameos that kept the plot from descending into the world of opera buffa.
With Méphistophélès’s help, Faust goes to the prison to save Marguerite. She seems to recognize her lover and recalls the night when he first seduced her. Faust is overwhelmed with pity.
Marguerite panics at the sight of the Devil and, with a frantic appeal to heaven, she dies. Méphistophélès damns her but angelic voices proclaim she is saved. Faust reappears as an old man and collapses, enigmatically. In this production, we have to surmise if Méphistophélès can enforce the contract.
Mora’s treatment was refreshingly original. Some productions try to meld Gounod’s Faust with modern-day themes. In 2011 the New York Met De McAnuff version had tenor Jonas Kauffman as Faust battling a post-Hiroshima apocalypse. A sort of Faust-meets-Dr-Atomic interpretation.
This is trying to read too much into the Gounod opera. For a start, the plush music does not lend itself to opera seria. When Faust debuted in Paris in 1859 it was declined by The National Opera House and consigned to the Theatre Lyrique — complete with ballet scene, to engage drunk diners.
In any wrestling match to bring the Gounod version to grips with modern-day themes, there will be no winners. Goethe, the originator of the legend, maintained that only Mozart could set his Faust to music. And maybe he was right. Even Richard Wagner managed only an overture.
This is very much a creation of Gounod and his librettists Jules Barbier and Michel Carré. Homage à Goethe. So, best not to fiddle with it too much. This Opera de Las Palmas production, having hit the mainland triumphantly in Lisbon deserves a wider European audience. Get that co-production bandwagon rolling. Or, there will be hell to pay…