Colour, movement and tradition: Juan Diego Florez in Damiano Michieletto’s new production of Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann at Covent Garden

Offenbach: The Tales of Hoffmann – Juan Diego Florez – Royal Opera House (Photo: RBO/Camilla Greenwell)

Offenbach: The Tales of Hoffmann; Juan Diego Florez, Alex Esposito, Olga Pudova, Ermonela Jaho, Marina Costa-Jackson, director: Damiano Michieletto, conductor: Antonello Manacorda: Royal Opera House
Reviewed 10 November 2024

An evening of vivid fun that presents Offenbach’s complex opera as a star vehicle in a grand setting without essaying any musicological complexity

If Offenbach had lived longer, what shape would his opera The Tales of Hoffmann have taken? That is a question that has tantalised musicologists. The discovery of the majority of the surviving manuscripts means we have access to everything the composer wrote. But that does not mean we know Offenbach’s final thoughts. After his death, the opera was brought to form by Ernest Guiraud who turned dialogue into recitative, as would have been necessary if the work was to be performed at the Paris Opera and at opera houses outside France. But would the composer have been satisfied with the rather baggy work that results, or would have have preferred the pacier version with dialogue. What would he have cut? 

We can never know the answers to these, and the most satisfying productions of the opera that I have seen have been ones where director and conductor take a keen interest in the musicological issues surrounding the work, working out what works and what doesn’t. The Royal Opera House‘s new production of Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann represented not only a chance to replace John Schlesinger’s ineffably grand 1980 production (revived regularly until 2016) but to get away from that production’s reliance on the old traditional Choudens edition of the opera.

The new production, directed by Damiano Michieletto and conducted by Antonello Manacorda, is a co-production with Opera Australia, Lyon Opera and Le Fenice in Venice and was being mounted in London with a star tenor, Juan Diego Florez, and an international cast. So, we have to accept that the aim is not musicological enquiry, but to provide bankable and revivable spectacle. The programme book for the production informs us that the edition used is the one published by Alkor-Edition, Kassel but does not give a hint any further as to what we are hearing. Some digging reveals that Alkor-Edition‘s score is edited by Fritz Oeser, whose edition has been long superseded by more recent developments.

So, what did we hear? 

Well, there was much that was acceptable, the Act One trio was in place and Dapertutto had the correct solo in Act Three (‘Scintille diamant’ was out, thank goodness). But most of Act Three was a musicological mess, with a heavy reliance on the ‘traditional’ music, including the ending of the act, rather than any element of musicological enquiry. This was profoundly disappointing, though not unexpected. But it means that we still have a production that does Offenbach’s music a disservice.

With its designs by Paolo Fantin and Carla Teti, the production was very grand indeed and extremely busy. Michieletto’s conception is apparent from the opening, when Christine Rice’s muse of poetry appears not as the spirit of wine but as the incarnation of la fée verte (complete with green hair and a penchant for green glitter). Rice is ubiquitous throughout the opera, launching each act with a cascade of green glitter. Clearly the stories are the result of Hoffmann’s absinthe-inspired fever dream.

Dance plays a big role in the spectacle, Rice’s muse is accompanied by six glitter-green dances and they pop up regularly throughout the evening, whilst Alex Esposito’s baddie has a pair of purple glitter clad men with red glitter nipples. Lindorf’s encounter with Stella (Maria Leon) in the prologue sees her clad in similar purple glitter and in the Epilogue, Esposito’s Lindorf is dressed as Stella. Go figure!

Dance also features in Act Two as Antonia (Ermonello Jaho) is recast as a dancer, complete with a vision of herself as a young girl (a poised performance from Beatrice Hope Henley) and a cast of classical dancers including the vision of Antonia’s mother (voiced by Christine Rice). 

The result was a series of spare but stylish sets filled with colour and movement. Too much at times. Michieletto tries to make sense of the opera, by having the three episodes as Hoffmann at three different ages, with Act One being at school. His mistake is, I think, to try to make sense of the piece rather than simply accepting that it is a work of fantasy. Gothic fantasy too, as ETA Hoffmann’s tales are none too comfortable!

Juan Diego Florez makes an ardent Hoffmann, singing with a nice sense of line though a tendency to push out the top notes. It is in the quieter moments that he impressed most. Hoffmann is one of the heavier roles in Florez’ repertoire and in a smaller theatre with an historical approach to performing the work, he would be ideal, but in this big house, big orchestra version there were times, especially in ensembles, when he did not carry as well. A shame, as in a more sympathetic setting this would be a notable performance.

Alex Esposito hammed and camped it up as the four villains, managing to be sinister and sexy, but always over the top. He combined darkness of tone with the necessary freedom at the top needed in the role, though I could have wished his performance had more subtlety and less ham in it.

Julie Boulianne was a charming and sly Niklausse (the role separated from the Muse), here incarnated as a parrot. Boulianne gamely took on the parrot persona, and made Niklausse’s wry comments about the action work delightfully as well as singing her solos with great style. 

We had four different performers as the heroines, rather than the single singer as Offenbach seems to have intended. Maria Leon incarnated Stella in the prologue (and Leon went on to other silent roles in the performance). Olga Pudova did everything she was required as the doll, Olympia as well as producing dazzling coloratura. Ermonela Jaho was a moving Antonia, giving the opera real heart. Jaho threw herself into the role literally as she spent rather a lot of time falling down, yet musically was superb. Marina Costa-Jackson did what she could with Giulietta, looking sexy and singing the Barcarolle with style.

Christophe Mortagne sang the four character tenor parts though only as Franz (here a ballet master) was he able to make an impact, which he did in delightful fashion. The smaller roles were all well taken with Jeremy White as Luther, Ryan Vaughan Davies and Siphe Kwani as students, Vincent Ordonneau as Spalanzani and Alastair Miles as Crespel.

If you accepted that we were hearing a traditional version with recitatives, then the result was a brilliant evening in the theatre. Michielette and Manacorda did not manage to convince me that the Prologue would not be better without some cuts, those student choruses do go on a bit and there is only so much ‘Kleinzack’ that I can cope with.

The attractions of this production will very much depend on who the Royal Opera House manages to convince to sing the title role.