Countertenor David Daniels (left) plays Tamerlano to Plácido Domingo’s Bajazet in Washington National Opera’s production of Handel’s ‘Tamerlano.’ (Photo by Karin Cooper)
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GREG MARZULLO
Friday, May 09, 2008
Baroque opera is its own specialty, in part, because of a florid style of singing that only certain voices can really achieve. So, it’s always a bit of a curiosity when someone like Washington National Opera General Director Plácido Domingo, known for all things dramatic, from Puccini to Wagner, takes on an opera like Handel’s “Tamerlano.”
In his 126th role, Domingo plays Bajazet, a Turkish ruler deposed and imprisoned by the cruel Tartar emperor of the title (here played by world-renowned counter-tenor David Daniels, who is gay).
Director Chas Rader-Shieber sets this production in an unidentified modern era, with Tamerlano setting up house in the cast-down Bajazet’s palace (there was something very empty-palace-of-Saddam about it, which added to the production’s efficacy). Tamerlano stays at the house partly out of love, or at least lust, for Bajazet’s daughter Asteria (Sarah Coburn), who is in turn enamored of the emperor’s right-hand man Andronico (or in the opera’s case, mezzo-soprano woman, Patricia Bardon).
Tamerlano, dressed in a well-tailored suit, tries to wed Asteria only to discover she agreed to the nuptial as a ploy to sneak a knife into their bed and into his back. This emperor, known for his cruelties, doesn’t take kindly to an assassination attempt and tosses her into prison with her father, who eventually poisons himself to rob the tyrant of any further gloating.
The local opera scene has been abuzz over the production since it was announced, and Daniels is a major cause for the anticipation. Countertenors (men who take on the demanding, high-range roles once reserved for castrati and then mezzo-sopranos) are a rare breed, and Daniels is one of the best.
His tone is clear, yet full, allowing for easy movement through the role’s more difficult passages, which includes a long third-act aria with endless vocal acrobatics that Daniels delivered in spades. His handsome face and easy stage presence make for a well-rounded performance, conveying Tamerlano’s cruelty as well as his recklessness with refreshing believability.
AS HIS NEMESIS, Domingo seemed, at times, bussed in from another opera entirely. His first-act singing, consisting largely of ornamental flourishes left me wondering if taking on this role wasn’t a late-career mistake. The tone, while occasionally rusty, was still beautifully rich, but Domingo lacked the incisiveness needed to execute the runs, leaps and trills. More often they ended in muddied phrasing and sloppy grace notes.
However, once the drama of the second act got underway, Domingo was able to flex his experience, and the role (and his voice) came alive. The emperor’s crumbling affairs were evoked with touching pathos by frequently drawing the voice back in scale and sinking into a velvety legato. His death was akin to the finest soprano’s mad scene, and it reminded me, yet again, of what an international treasure this artist really is.
Not to be outdone by the men, Coburn’s performance was breathtaking from start to finish. Because of the nature of Baroque music, it can be challenging for singers to find renewed meaning the fifth time they’ve sung the same line of text, no matter how many fireworks they pull out of their throats. But Coburn imbued every utterance with an electrifying emotional veracity that broke through the music (and in all likelihood demonstrated what Handel’s writing can be when in the hands of the very best).
Bardon was an evocative Andronico with a sonorously rich tone, and her duet with Coburn in the third act was probably some of the best singing I’ve ever heard in any performance, live or recorded.
On the whole, Rader-Shieber’s production, with its spacious, yet ironically oppressive, setting helps to pinpoint the dramatic crux of the story — those laid waste by war and conquest (and that includes aggressor and defender alike) only have their honor to see them through the most brutal of times.
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