Trivia question: what did Verdi describe late on in life as “that which pleases me most of all my works”? Trick question, actually: he wasn't referring to any of his operas, but rather to the Casa di Riposo per Musicisti, the musicians' retirement home he founded a few years before his death. An exterior shot of this Milan building was the first image seen in the production of Falstaff at the Deutsches Oper on Saturday night, part of a short, artificially aged black-and-white film that prefaced the opera proper. Among the comic scenarios involving elderly residents was an elderly baritone singing Falstaff's “Quand'ero paggio”, synced with the 1907 sound recording of this aria made by Victor Maurel, the original creator of the role. When the screen/curtain went up, it disclosed a scene that was an approximate visual match to the film's final shot, and the pit orchestra launched into the prelude.
Playing the opera as if put on in the Casa Verdi retirement home allowed director Christof Loy to link Verdi's last opera, written in his late seventies, with his near-contemporaneous social project. First staged during the Verdi anniversary last year, this production of Falstaff was amusing, ingenious and baffling, frequently all three at the same time. The principals appeared first in caricatured elderly guises, all perms, bald pates and stoops, and then shed these as they immersed themselves in their roles, with the entire cast except Falstaff resuming elderly costumes during the final fugue (think of Olivier's Henry V, which begins and ends on stage, but moves into a more 'realistic' filmic world in between).
So far, so neat. However, there were plenty of transitions back and forth between nursing-home world and the world of the play that were more anarchic: for instance, Bardolph and Pistol openly resumed their grey wigs and false noses on stage when they returned to Falstaff's service in Act II, Pistol even having his coat handed to him from the wings. And even without changing costumes, Falstaff seemed more like an external agent than an in-story character at times: he walked meditatively twice across the stage during the first Nannetta-Fenton scene, pausing and smiling each time at the “Bocca bacciata...” line.
Many of these jolts, which included the occasional Elizabethan costume (e.g. Falstaff's red wooing garb), were surely deliberate alienating effects. At times these were sophomoric and irritating: for instance, the telephone booth that was wheeled on and off without contributing in any meaningful way, or the elaborate forest backcloth for the Herne's Oak scene that was hung at right angles to the correct perspective.