Repentance
Jules Massenet: Thaïs, 20 December 2008.
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Saint Thaïs was a successful high-class prostitute plying her trade in Alexandria until converted to Christianity by Bishop Paphnutius. After ostentatiously disposing of her worldly possessions, she survived until around 348AD on a penitential diet of bread and water, her death and redemption being foreseen by the Bishop in a dream. Specific reasons for her canonisation are not recorded. Her story was fictionalised by Anatole France in his anticlerical novel of 1890 which attacked the self-denial of the Christian ideal and this was seized upon by Massenet to provide an operatic vehicle to exploit the three octave range of the outstanding American soprano Sybil Sanderson.
In the opera, the bishop is replaced by a monk Athanaël, who, despite advice from his elder, Palémon, returns from his monastery to Alexandria where he has been appalled by the licentious life-style of society, to attempt to reform the courtesan Thaïs who he regards as |
Thomas Hampson as Athanael and Renee Fleming in the title role of Massenet’s “Thais”
Photo: Ken Howard/Metropolitan Opera |
its leader. Taking advantage of his youthful acquaintance with her current client Nicias, he is invited to attend a party at which they are introduced. Smartened up by Nicias, Athanaél resists Thaïs’ seduction as does she his attempt to convert her.
But the seed is sown: following a period of meditation alone (and off-stage), she decides to repent and follow Athanaël to a convent in the desert. At another wild party arranged by Nicias she sets fire to the palace and departs with Athanaël. Back home, the monk is obsessed by dreams of profane love for Thaïs. Foreseeing her death he rushes to her side to declare his worldly love but too late. Thaïs dies to visions of angel.
Thaïs is one of those operas, usually late romantic, of which one asks why is it never performed? The reasons can be many: they are too long, too lacking in musical content, too implausible even for opera fans, too demanding of resources. As was explained to the cinema audiences in cast interviews by Placido Domingo, in the case of Thaïs, it is only once in a generation that a soprano emerges with the vocal and dramatic ability and stamina to do justice to Massenet’s invention – the baritone role of Athanaël is equally demanding. Furthermore soprano and baritone must have the rapport to sing at each other for three and a half hours almost continuously.
Musically, the opera is sublime – not only the violin solo of the Méditation which depicts Thaïs’ spiritual struggle (repeated on the flute in the last act) but throughout. It was hard to avoid the thought that Massenet had a better mastery of composition than Puccini with continuous melodic development rather than fragmentation.
This production by John Cox does everything to support the singers for both in the cinema and in the Met auditorium. The conductor Jesús López-Cobos produced from the orchestra a luscious French romantic sound. The staging contrasted the bareness of the desert surroundings of monastery and convent with the decadent opulence of the palace scenes. Thaïs’ wardrobe designed by Christian Lacroix had exactly the right note of seduction.
The choreographer Sara Jo Slate produced genuine eroticism in the sinuous movements of the party girls, particularly the ‘bendy bunny’ of an oriental dancer, without descending to vulgarity. The Méditation was divinely played by the concert-master of the Met orchestra, who received a well-deserved ovation at the final curtain-call..
All this provided a perfect setting for the performers, Renée Fleming as Thaïs and Thomas Hampson as Athanaël with a very fine tenor Michael Schade as Nicias. I have no doubt that on this occasion the cinema audiences had by far the better deal – thanks in no small part to the camera director and sound engineer not credited in cinema handout.
Apart from the fantastic singing by great artists in top form, in the cinema we were able to observe at close range and in close-up the superb acting and expressions of the performers. As noted of her Tatiana in Eugene Onegin, Fleming has the amazing ability to transform herself into the role she is singing, convincingly to the cinema audience, while at the same time belting it out to fill the Met auditorium. On this occasion she was matched by Hampson. This was an operatic experience to savour forever.
But the seed is sown: following a period of meditation alone (and off-stage), she decides to repent and follow Athanaël to a convent in the desert. At another wild party arranged by Nicias she sets fire to the palace and departs with Athanaël. Back home, the monk is obsessed by dreams of profane love for Thaïs. Foreseeing her death he rushes to her side to declare his worldly love but too late. Thaïs dies to visions of angel.
Thaïs is one of those operas, usually late romantic, of which one asks why is it never performed? The reasons can be many: they are too long, too lacking in musical content, too implausible even for opera fans, too demanding of resources. As was explained to the cinema audiences in cast interviews by Placido Domingo, in the case of Thaïs, it is only once in a generation that a soprano emerges with the vocal and dramatic ability and stamina to do justice to Massenet’s invention – the baritone role of Athanaël is equally demanding. Furthermore soprano and baritone must have the rapport to sing at each other for three and a half hours almost continuously.
Musically, the opera is sublime – not only the violin solo of the Méditation which depicts Thaïs’ spiritual struggle (repeated on the flute in the last act) but throughout. It was hard to avoid the thought that Massenet had a better mastery of composition than Puccini with continuous melodic development rather than fragmentation.
This production by John Cox does everything to support the singers for both in the cinema and in the Met auditorium. The conductor Jesús López-Cobos produced from the orchestra a luscious French romantic sound. The staging contrasted the bareness of the desert surroundings of monastery and convent with the decadent opulence of the palace scenes. Thaïs’ wardrobe designed by Christian Lacroix had exactly the right note of seduction.
The choreographer Sara Jo Slate produced genuine eroticism in the sinuous movements of the party girls, particularly the ‘bendy bunny’ of an oriental dancer, without descending to vulgarity. The Méditation was divinely played by the concert-master of the Met orchestra, who received a well-deserved ovation at the final curtain-call..
All this provided a perfect setting for the performers, Renée Fleming as Thaïs and Thomas Hampson as Athanaël with a very fine tenor Michael Schade as Nicias. I have no doubt that on this occasion the cinema audiences had by far the better deal – thanks in no small part to the camera director and sound engineer not credited in cinema handout.
Apart from the fantastic singing by great artists in top form, in the cinema we were able to observe at close range and in close-up the superb acting and expressions of the performers. As noted of her Tatiana in Eugene Onegin, Fleming has the amazing ability to transform herself into the role she is singing, convincingly to the cinema audience, while at the same time belting it out to fill the Met auditorium. On this occasion she was matched by Hampson. This was an operatic experience to savour forever.
