Falstaff - Verdi vs. Welles
Last night, tkp and I attended the Seattle Opera's production of Falstaff. It was a far different experience from the only other I've seen there, Bartok's Bluebeard's Castle paired with Schoenberg's Erwartung. That was an incredibly intense visual and musical experience, unlike anything I'm likely to see again, while Falstaff was much more traditional comic opera.
The production itself was charming: as we wandered in, there were singers on the stage, milling around, stretching, talking--one with a dog, that arrived from somewhere and was not part of the show--and dressing. The back curtain was absent so you could see right through to the wall of the theater. The set was composed of a sort of boardwalk around three side, with stairs and tables and things which were moved around during the course of the show. I think the "behind the scenes" aspect was probably justified by the several references in the libretto to singing. Regardless, it was lighthearted and fun, and set the tone that this was not serious business, though when the opera started everyone was in full costume and the backdrop descended.
Though I was interested in the character and the story, the actual plot and the music failed to do much for me. I haven't seen a lot of opera, and perhaps it was a lack of familiarity, but nothing stood out as being particularly impressive. Most of the humor relied on Falstaff's immense girth. Here and there, the fat jokes were somewhat humorous, but overall the one-noteness of it and, eventually, the meanness got to me. The plot, primarily drawn from The Merry Wives of Windsor, concerns Falstaff's plot to delve into the pockets of rich men by wooing their wives. Two such wives, Alice and Meg, receive each others' letters--thus their revenge plot (and, initially on his own account, Alice's husband's) is set in motion. Falstaff is a coward, and a glutton, but he is supposed to be charming as well. And yet the very thin plot provides for little of this, and a lot of jokes at his expense based on the ridiculousness of his vanity.
I know that the purpose is quite different, but it seems valid to compare the opera to another work which sought to extract Falstaff and center the plot around him. Orson Welles' Chimes at Midnight contains parts of various Henry plays and seeks as well to illustrate Falstaff's vices and charms. Granted, it is not a comedy (though there are naturally, funny moments). But it's striking, how much more interesting the character is, and how much more poignant, when his faults are explored in the wider context of his world. War, friendship, sex, wine, and ultimately, his rejection by Hal lend the man much more weight (ha!) and validity as a lead character than making him strictly comic. And I would argue that he is less amusing when the context is continuously telling you he is so. I barely remember the original Shakespeare Merry Wives..., so I hesitate to speak to the intent there. But the comic opera version fails to hold my interest, even as a figure of sport, because without the depth of his surroundings what makes his wit and indeed his faults special is absent.
At the end of the opera last night, as Falstaff called for "a chorus" and everyone sang that everyone had been fooled, the entire cast began to strip to their underthings, not entirely period-correct. Falstaff, too, stripped his belly, and the fat suit was given its own "bow" as a member of the cast. Considering how much of the humor was based entirely on its presence (the singer was a large man, but not large enough to fit the libretto), it made a sort of sense, but also highlighted just how shallow the treatment was. Maybe it doesn't need to be anything more, but the contrast to Welles' version (or even Harold Bloom's idee fixe) has, I think, ruined other Falstaffs for me. (Though you'll forgive me for thinking Shatner would make a pretty adorable Falstaff, at this point.)
The production itself was charming: as we wandered in, there were singers on the stage, milling around, stretching, talking--one with a dog, that arrived from somewhere and was not part of the show--and dressing. The back curtain was absent so you could see right through to the wall of the theater. The set was composed of a sort of boardwalk around three side, with stairs and tables and things which were moved around during the course of the show. I think the "behind the scenes" aspect was probably justified by the several references in the libretto to singing. Regardless, it was lighthearted and fun, and set the tone that this was not serious business, though when the opera started everyone was in full costume and the backdrop descended.
Though I was interested in the character and the story, the actual plot and the music failed to do much for me. I haven't seen a lot of opera, and perhaps it was a lack of familiarity, but nothing stood out as being particularly impressive. Most of the humor relied on Falstaff's immense girth. Here and there, the fat jokes were somewhat humorous, but overall the one-noteness of it and, eventually, the meanness got to me. The plot, primarily drawn from The Merry Wives of Windsor, concerns Falstaff's plot to delve into the pockets of rich men by wooing their wives. Two such wives, Alice and Meg, receive each others' letters--thus their revenge plot (and, initially on his own account, Alice's husband's) is set in motion. Falstaff is a coward, and a glutton, but he is supposed to be charming as well. And yet the very thin plot provides for little of this, and a lot of jokes at his expense based on the ridiculousness of his vanity.
I know that the purpose is quite different, but it seems valid to compare the opera to another work which sought to extract Falstaff and center the plot around him. Orson Welles' Chimes at Midnight contains parts of various Henry plays and seeks as well to illustrate Falstaff's vices and charms. Granted, it is not a comedy (though there are naturally, funny moments). But it's striking, how much more interesting the character is, and how much more poignant, when his faults are explored in the wider context of his world. War, friendship, sex, wine, and ultimately, his rejection by Hal lend the man much more weight (ha!) and validity as a lead character than making him strictly comic. And I would argue that he is less amusing when the context is continuously telling you he is so. I barely remember the original Shakespeare Merry Wives..., so I hesitate to speak to the intent there. But the comic opera version fails to hold my interest, even as a figure of sport, because without the depth of his surroundings what makes his wit and indeed his faults special is absent.
At the end of the opera last night, as Falstaff called for "a chorus" and everyone sang that everyone had been fooled, the entire cast began to strip to their underthings, not entirely period-correct. Falstaff, too, stripped his belly, and the fat suit was given its own "bow" as a member of the cast. Considering how much of the humor was based entirely on its presence (the singer was a large man, but not large enough to fit the libretto), it made a sort of sense, but also highlighted just how shallow the treatment was. Maybe it doesn't need to be anything more, but the contrast to Welles' version (or even Harold Bloom's idee fixe) has, I think, ruined other Falstaffs for me. (Though you'll forgive me for thinking Shatner would make a pretty adorable Falstaff, at this point.)