In these times of war and oppression, it must be tempting for a director to stage an opera like Rossini’s Guillaume Tell – based on Schiller’s drama about Swiss patriot Wilhelm Tell and the 14th-century struggle for independence against the Habsburgs – in a modern setting such as Ukraine or the Middle East. Interpreting the story from a contemporary perspective would work pretty well – perhaps too vividly – with one important exception: the famous scene in which Tell shoots an apple off his son’s head to demonstrate his marksmanship, as the crossbow and arrow are hardly modern warfare.
But for this new staging at the New National Theatre, Tokyo, director Yannis Kokkos decides to avoid any specific contemporary setting, and chooses an abstract place: a gloomy forest in the mountains with big, shady trees. In Act 2, there are raining arrows, symbolising the oppression from a despotic rule, and in Act 3 the forest is turned into a market square. The costumes seem to suggest the 1930s, but nothing specific there either. There aren’t any Swiss flags in sight, and nothing really indicates either the Swiss or the Habsburgs. The tyrant Gesler looks like a parody of a Nazi captain, whereas Princess Mathilde is elegantly dressed.
Conducted by NNTT Artistic Director Kazushi Ono, this production is not only the first ever staging of Guillaume Tell at the NNTT (in the original French version), but the first full-scale staged production in Japan by a professional company of either the French or the Italian version (with some cuts: the music totalled 3 hour 35 minutes). The opera’s Japanese premiere was in 1983, sung in Japanese, and there have only been two concert performances since then. Thus, it was an eagerly awaited staging.
The production featured a strong cast led by the Albanian baritone Gezim Myshketa in the role of the legendary Swiss hero, making his return to the NNTT after La traviata during the pandemic. Having sung the role of Tell previously in several Italian theatres, he was a commanding presence on stage both vocally and dramatically; his portrayal of Tell as a strong leader but also an affectionate family man gave depth to the characterisation. His aria “Sois immobile” with cello solo accompaniment was movingly sung, and he was equally excellent in the many ensemble numbers, especially the duet with Arnold in Act 1.
Arnold was sung by René Barbera, who last appeared at the NNTT as Don Ramiro in La Cenerentola. Since then, his bright, lyric voice has gained in strength and carrying power. He sang gloriously throughout with outstanding French diction, and it was hard to believe this was his role debut. The recitative and aria in Act 4 where he remembers his father and decides to take arms to fight for his country was one of many highlights, as was the Act 2 duet with Mathilde.
Soprano Olga Peretyatko, who has sung several Rossini roles, was making her role debut as Mathilde. It is a difficult role to pull off as she doesn’t appear until Act 2 and isn’t given a chance to really present herself until Act 3. Peretyatko sang with a pleasing tone and elegance, but emotionally there was a certain aloofness, intentionally or not. Other roles were mainly taken by house regulars. Tell’s son Jemmy was innocently sung by NNTT regular Yoko Yasui, and mezzo Junko Saito sung Tell’s wife Hedwige with warmth, if a little heavy for Rossini. Bass Hidekazu Tsumaya as Gesler, tenor Yasuhiro Yamamoto as the fisherman Ruodi, and Shingo Sudo as Walter Furst showed strong vocal presence too.
Special mention must be made to the New National Theatre Chorus who enlivened this masterpiece with rousing singing; Rossini’s patriotic choral writing anticipates the choral scenes in Verdi. Ono led the orchestra with conviction, and there was some outstanding solo playing from the principals.
Can there ever be a convincing staging of Tell’s apple-shooting scene? I’ve yet to see one. The most intriguing visual element of this fairly conventional staging was the divertissements (dance scenes), of which there are many as they were requirements for the Paris Opera. Natalie van Parys’ choreography, based on classical ballet, was graceful but peppered with cynical and violent twists, which added depth and spice to this patriotic drama.
And finally a small coup from the director. As the opera closed with the Swiss people’s chorus of thanksgiving, a photograph of a bombed modern cityscape (maybe Ukraine?) was projected onto the backdrop, just for a few seconds before the curtain went down. Was Kokkos trying to indicate a parallel to the struggles in our world? Although too little too late, we were left with a feeling of disquiet.