In its early decades, the Metropolitan Opera presented Gounod’s Faust so frequently that it was dubbed the “Faustspielhaus”. These days, it’s the composer’s Roméo et Juliette that is more often performed, and we’re on our third revival of Bartlett Sher’s 2016 production. Meanwhile, Faust hasn’t been performed in over a decade. Expectations were high for this revival given the stellar cast, and it’s difficult to imagine a more convincing case being made for the opera.
The Met’s Music Director Yannick Nézet-Séguin is a busy man – alongside the Gounod, he also leads the Met’s Forza del Destino and his Montreal-based Orchestre Métropolitain on a US tour all within a few days. Whether because of his busy schedule or not, his Met productions have not been a universal success, but the Gounod found him on absolutely thrilling form. He attacked the opening with Wagnerian intensity, balancing clarity and judicious rubati with a wonderful sense of momentum – though Gounod’s score has its longeurs, Nézet-Séguin’s conducting lent the evening a sense of dramatic inevitability. He was particularly effective in the choral scenes, a great showcase for the discipline and power of the Met Chorus.
Among the secondary cast, it’s the women who shone. Eve Gigliotti was a plummy-voiced Gertrude, a formidable presence both vocally and dramatically. She resisted the urge to overplay the comedy of the role and was all the more effective for it, and it was nice to hear a voice of such quality in the role. Samantha Hankey stole the spotlight as the page Stéphano, tackling her aria’s high tessitura with insouciant ease. Hankey’s recent successes as Octavian and Santuzza suggest that she is moving into bigger repertoire, and her sizable, gleaming mezzo is luxury casting for the role. She’s also a commanding stage presence, bounding across the stage with masculine energy and swordfighting with ease.
While baritone Will Liverman dispatched Mercutio’s wordy aria with fluency and was a charming stage presence, his lyric baritone tended to fade into the background; similar problems plagued Frederick Ballentine’s Tybalt, though the crispness of his diction and the crystalline beauty of his lyric tenor were a delight. Alfred Walker’s Frère Laurent was a sympathetic figure, with warm tone and elegant phrasing. Nathan Berg’s wooly Capulet failed to make much impact, though the always-dependable Richard Bernstein was suitably authoritative as the Duke of Verona.
But the success of the opera falls firmly upon its central couple, and it’s hard to imagine a better pairing than Benjamin Bernheim and Nadine Sierra. Bernheim is surely the finest French lyric tenor today, with unparalleled elegance of line and vocal finesse. Even though Bernheim was clearly recovering from illness, there was a suppleness and refinement to his sound that were a joy to hear. Though it’s not a particularly large voice, it carries nicely and has the requisite ring for the big moments. He’s also a dashing stage presence, capturing all of the character’s sensitivity and impetuousness.
Nadine Sierra goes from strength to strength in the lyric soprano repertoire, with a richness and ease of tone production that herald bigger roles to come. While she maintained the flexibility needed for her opening aria, cleanly executing its trills and grace notes despite some wayward intonation, she was at her best in the final two acts. Sierra and Bernheim blended together beautifully in their duets, her golden tone contrasting with his sweet mezza voce, and Sierra’s dusky lower register rippled with eroticism in their act 4 duet. Her poison aria was a showstopper, with ravishing sound and dramatic commitment. She had a tendency to indulge in the beauty of her own voice, but who could blame her?
Bartlett Sher’s production remains attractive, with its impressive unit set and elaborate costumes. Even though the crowd scenes are overly busy and the individual direction is rudimentary, Bernheim and Sierra generated enough dramatic and vocal heat to make this revival a must-see.
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