You can take The Met Orchestra out of the opera house, but you can’t take the opera house out of The Met Orchestra. To close their concert series at Carnegie Hall, the ensemble programmed three pieces that hewed close to the work they do every day at Lincoln Center. Under the energetic leadership of Yannick Nézet-Séguin, they proved themselves adept at infusing music with a primal sense of drama that endured even when shorn of sets and costumes, although some ragged playing throughout the evening suggested the need for a summer break after a long season in the pit.
Bluebeard’s Castle entered the Metropolitan Opera’s repertory in 1974 and has been given 37 times in the ensuing fifty years. Bartók’s psychologically probing opera was seen there most recently in a noirish production by the Polish theater director Mariusz Treliński, which underscored the thrill of danger that attracts the young, pure Judith to her mysterious husband, Bluebeard. At Carnegie, Nézet-Séguin had only the music to convey the story’s tension, which remained gripping and ever-present nonetheless. Although the one-act opera’s spoken prologue appeared perfunctorily through a disembodied, pre-recorded voice, the action truly began with the first downbeat, with an orchestral complement that built in foreboding terror and didn’t let up until the final moments.
In many ways, this opera considers the light and darkness that co-exist inside the soul, and Nézet-Séguin highlighted that dichotomy within every section of the orchestra. Woodwinds sounded youthful and airy before turning thick and sinister. The massive percussion elements signaled the pastoral beauty that unfolds behind some of Bluebeard’s doors and the militaristic terror that lurks behind others. Harps moved from angelic to anxious, and the full-throated C major blast of the Fifth Door balanced overwhelming ecstasy with forthcoming dread. If the performance didn’t always find the folksy details that individuate Bartók’s compositional voice on a granular level, the sum total still made for an edge-of-your-seat experience.
Elīna Garanča sang Judith initially with a penetratingly beautiful tone that communicated the character’s innocent trust in Bluebeard. Her voice gained in weight and color as the revelations about her marriage pushed the character closer to the edge. Although a stage director might have pushed Garanča toward a more outwardly neurotic energy in her physical performance, it was hard to imagine a more intelligent interpretation – and any number of sopranos would eat their hearts out for the perfectly tuned, lustily voiced high C that soared above the orchestra with seemingly no effort. The elegant, lyrical quality of Christian Van Horn’s bass-baritone added a plaintive note to his characterization of Bluebeard, with a wrenching quality to his pleas to simply be loved by his new wife.
The Bartók would have made a satisfying program, and although The Met Orchestra might have needed the concert’s first half to warm up, it did not always make for pleasant listening. A significant horn flub in the opening bars of the Der fliegende Hӧllander Overture set an inauspicious tone from which Nézet-Séguin struggled to recover, leading to a performance that sounded sloppy and under-rehearsed. The brass blared with an unappealing lack of subtlety, and Senta’s leitmotif in the woodwinds lacked the mystery of intoxicating love that it’s meant to represent. Throughout the two speeds of playing seemed to be loud and louder – an unfortunate effect that carried over to the orchestral Suite from Pelléas et Melisande, which at times sounded indistinguishable from the Wagner.
