Marlies’Artbeat: Willy Decker’s Version of Verdi’s “La Traviata” – Still Controversial

By Marlies Wolf, Opera Specialist

When La Traviata (now one of the most revered of Giuseppe Verdi’s 28 operas) premiered in 1853, it was a flop. Had it been given only this production since then, it probably would still be. Most productions I have ever seen, or read about, flaunt the elegance and luxurious lifestyle the story calls for.

This barren, highly stylized Willy Becker permutation, originally premiered in Salzburg. The Met picked it up in 2010 and offered it as a Live-at-the-Met-in-HD transmission in 2012. So most of the world has seen it before. No wonder the movie house in which I saw/heard it, did not draw the audience this opera usually manages to beckon. And that’s a pity because there are significant changes that make it work better.

Alas, even with those changes, the heartbreaking story, the beloved score -- all are still overwhelmed by the starkness, and ugliness that has the lovers prancing about in ill-fitting underwear, or has the best-paid prostitute in Paris wearing a red dress she wouldn’t be caught dead in.

To see the opera succeed, I suggest you go on YouTube and watch some of the Covent Garden, Netrebko/Kaufmann Traviata, or the famous Kaufmann Met debut with Angela Gheorghiu, both in 2006. And, if you happen to be a Netflix person, indulge yourself by watching Camille, starring the legendary Greta Garbo. A true Cinema Classic, it makes a frequent appearance on TCM.

It all started because Alexandre Dumas fils (1824-1895) supposedly had a torrid affair with a high-priced courtesan; one Marie Duplessis, who succumbed to consumption at the age of 22 or 23. He told their tale first in novel form and subsequently as a successful play.

Giuseppe Verdi (1813-1901) a master show-man, with a keen eye for what would work as an opera, quickly recognized that the story of Violetta, the whore with a heart of gold, would probably be a real goldmine. He had the librettist Francesco Maria Piave (1810-1876) tackle the work, because their collaboration had led to several successes before.

Undoubtedly you are familiar with the story of the consumptive prostitute who gives up her opulent Parisian lifestyle for true love, only to have to give that up as well. She does so, unselfishly, to preserve the honor of her lover’s family. He ultimately finds out the truth, but too late. She dies in his arms.

Becker zeros in on the death from the beginning and stays with it relentlessly. He reminds us continuously, via a gigantic clock which takes up a good part of the almost barren stage. He invents a silent male figure near it, who is the doctor surveying Violetta’s surmise. (The doctor normally is one of the shortest parts for any basso to sing. Well, here his stage presence is long; his vocal output as short as ever. Luckily so far, no one has had the audacity to play around with Verdi’s score.)

But the clock with its ominously turning hands, does more than tell that “Time” is the merciless challenger. Noting the “opera begins with the music of the finale, the death scene, forming a circle that ultimately returns to its starting point,” Becker plays with the notion that 12 hours, as well as 60 minutes, or sixty seconds, all create a circle of closure.” Allowing the sets and costumes (by Wolfgang Gussmann) to be totally contemporary, he reminds us, the audience, of our own mortality. Unfortunately all the clever symbolism, has us so busy that we fail to have real emotional involvement.

Not that everyone wasn’t trying hard, and most of the acting was definitely to be admired. Yet in the always-interesting intermission interviews of the cast, here hosted by the charming Mezzo-Soprano, Isabel Leonard, Michael Fabiano explained he was portraying the lover as a strong person. The American tenor then proceeded to play it as a decided milksop.

But whether his intention misfired or not, his Alfredo was quite fitting as the somewhat naïve, with-ardor-besotted lover.

Thomas Hampson, indeed portrayed the elder Germont as harshly as he described in his interview. The much admired American baritone, has racked up over 228 performances at the Met, and has performed leading roles in all the major houses all over the world. Always dependable, he acquitted himself well physically and vocally.

The sympathetic part of Anina, Violetta’s loyal companion, fell to the American Mezzo soprano, Jane Bunnell, who always gives us a fine performance.

But the afternoon most definitely belonged to our Violetta, the Bulgarian soprano, Sonya Yoncheva. Her portrayal of the doomed “Fallen Woman” was genuine and often heartbreaking. Her opening aria had a slight tremolo but way before she arrived at “Sempre libra” her fully confident soprano came through full force.

Her efforts were beautifully backed by our great Met orchestra, here under the able baton of Nicola Luisotti. He has distinguished himself as the San Francisco Opera’s Music Director for many years.

As a slight “heretic,” I confess, I have always regretted that Verdi (who later in his greatest operas definitely ceased doing so) here, leads in many arias with bel canto oom-pa-pahs. To set great tragic arias in ¾ time is unworthy of the sentiment they are meant to impart. Nevertheless, of course, I admire the fantastic richness of ear-catching melodies of Verdi’s score.

Thus, although plainly carping as I have been doing, I must admit that I would not have missed this controversial La Traviata for the world.

By all means catch the encores on Wednesday eve, March 15th and Matinee on Thursday, March 16th, 2017.