Carmen in Valencia - Charles Castronovo and Vasilisa Berzhanskaya lead a cast in search of a production

 

The current production of Bizet’s Carmen in Valencia Les Arts seems to be in constant danger of falling between two chairs. “Stools”, you say, but “chairs” is apposite because chairs figure large in this particular staging.

The promotional photograph that ostensibly summarizes the production shows Carmen in a traditional flamenco dress confronting Escamillo, who is arranged in his toreador outfit. These might be stereotypes, but they are conventional in a staging of Carmen. The still is from act three. Contrast that image with what the audience sees at the start, which is an unadorned black stage on which there is a square raised platform, covering most of the area, with the only evidence of props being a haphazard pile of chairs at the back. Symbolically, the raised platform is the square outside Carmen’s cigarette factory in Seville. The chairs are regularly moved to create different spaces.

Personally, I prefer directors to experiment when staging opera, as long as historical accuracy is preserved. It would be stupid to set Andrea Chenier in anything but the French revolution, for instance. But in the case of Carmen where the plot revolves around a coquettish woman who cannot make up her mind and an army corporal who lacks judgment and is easily lead is not specific to any particular epoch. Carmen, therefore, can be staged at any time, but place is important because of the Spanish flavour of the music.

But I am being over conventional. What if the Carmen is not coquettish, nor a flirt (whatever that is…) and plays the role as if she is in control the whole time? It seems that this was the kind of Carmen that we encountered in acts one and two in this production. She thus is a more modern woman, who still does not know what she wants. But would that modern woman dress up in traditional garb for a fiesta? Would that modern woman be so shocked by a prophecy arising from a card deal?

What worked in acts one and two was the drabness of the set. These working-class people are portrayed living their drab lives and therefore the excitement of a fight at work or an affair with an army corporal just might brighten things up. Perhaps because of the drabness of day-to-day existence everyone goes over the top when the chance to show off comes around at the fiesta. The presence of Escamillo, however, belies that working class setting, because he would have been a star, unless he was not very successful, in which case he would not have lasted very long and would not have developed a reputation.

In act two, the raised platform is transformed into a bar where we see the lowlife of an inner city. This is where Escamillo delivers his toreador song. The stage is still largely black, and the chairs are moved again to create places for the eager punters to sit. In act three, the chairs are centre stage again for a ballet sequence, which in this Carmen is a flamenco dance done by women. This is surely a reference to the original staging of the opera at the Opera Comique where a dance routine was de rigueur.

Then in act three, we have the fiesta and everyone gets dolled up. Suddenly, we have massive colour provided by firework bursts of confetti over the assembled townsfolk. Carmen up until now has worn T-shirt and trousers, and then a jacket over tights and a basque, suddenly dons a flowery full-length dress and wears her hair, until now lank, coiffured. It appears that Ted Huffman, who directed, suddenly got cold feet, and became worried that a “traditional” Carmen audience would want colour and costume. Suddenly, also, Carmen, who has been aloof and assertive to the level of cynicism until now, is vulnerable. Don José carries out his deadly act via strangulation with his belt, rather than with a “traditional” knife.

Overall, this production tried to be something different but did not carry things through. Carmen, as a character, suffered and throughout we did not see the presence that we expect from the role. Hence my assertion that the production fell between two chairs, neither “contemporary” nor “traditional”.

The evening, however, was perfectly enjoyable, despite the confusion over the production. Charles Castronovo as Don José was utterly superb. Vasilisa Berzhanskaya has sung Carmen before, but perhaps not as low-key as this time. Ruth Iniesta as Micaela received special applause for her two interventions. Davide Luciano as Escamillo was impressive. These performances were sound, that of Charles Castronovo was outstanding, but the lack of credibility of the overall concept rendered the individual performances just that – individual.