Photos by Katie McLean | Staff Photographer
The chilly evening air and half-empty wooden pews of the Amphitheater may have dampened the spirits of patrons Monday night during Francis Poulenc’s Dialogues of the Carmelites, performed by students from the School of Music’s Voice Program and the Music School Festival Orchestra. The performers, though, couldn’t have asked for a better environment for the hauntingly austere production.
The opera tells the story of the nuns of the Carmelite Order of Compiègne — condemned to death for remaining in their monastery against the orders of the French government near the end of the Reign of Terror.
The nuns had taken a vow of martyrdom, symbolizing their desire to save France from further political turmoil — even if it cost them their lives. Mother Marie, the sub-prioress played feelingly by Nicole Weigelt, led her sisters in their vow. That set in motion their tragic downfall — though to the deep regret of Marie, she was not able to join them in their holy death.
Dialogues of the Carmelites, as stage directed by Voice program faculty member John Giampietro, is also the story of Blanche de la Force, a timid girl nicknamed “little rabbit” by her brother. Blanche’s story is one of overcoming the fear of death and of fear itself. Pureum Jo, portraying Blanche, captured the young woman’s ever-present anxiety in her body language and voice, which was by turns dreamy and intense.
Blanche joined the Carmelites against the wishes of her brother the Chevalier, played with great tenderness by Jean-Michel Richer. At the monastery she meets Sister Constance, the next-youngest nun in the monastery. Leela Subramaniam played Constance with a delightfully girlish air that served as a much-needed foil to Blanche’s self-imposed misery.
The stunning singing in the “Ave Maria” at the end of Act 2 was a standout moment of the night. So was the Jailer’s proclamation of condemnation against the nuns, in which the audience could feel for the first time the sense of rage that drove the Reign of Terror.
Conductor and MSFO music director Timothy Muffitt guided the lush sounds of the orchestra. The cold weather can be blamed for a few flat notes in the brass section, but overall the orchestra played Poulenc’s music beautifully. The quick transitions between expressive impressionist tonality and sacred solemnity were handled quite well.
There were several instances of the orchestra exceeding the volume of the vocalists, even of those wearing microphones. Since the singers are students with still-growing voices, it was disappointing to hear the orchestra push the volume in dramatic moments. Sometimes they pushed too far and the singers couldn’t be heard — or worse, they forced the vocalists to sacrifice healthy technique and over-sing.
The only disappointing scene of the evening was the death of Madame de Croissy, the ailing Mother Superior of the Carmelites, at the end of Act 1. Lacey Benter valiantly portrayed de Croissy, and she was impressive vocally in her command of the French text and her powerful dedication to expression. But Benter’s interpretation of de Croissy was too animated; she was dying but seemed able-bodied, even energetic at times.
Giampietro chose to have Blanche, played by Jo, also embody pain and agony across the stage. Throughout the opera, Jo remained onstage in the background, even when Blanche wasn’t in the scene, to stylistically interpret the inner emotional dialogue between Blanche and other characters.
It is a shame that the stage direction for de Croissy and Blanche was so similar. If Mother Superior had been vocally powerful but physically restrained, the silent writhing of Blanche would have informed the audience of de Croissy’s physical and spiritual anguish in a manner unique to Giampietro’s production.
Though the death scene in Act 1 rushed the emotional climax of de Croissy’s end, the final death scene of the opera was appropriately subtle. A haunting rendition of “Salve Regina” sung by the condemned nuns slowly dissipated as they were led — one by one — to an imaginary guillotine, sonically portrayed to great effect by the percussion section.
Each life was cut short until only a single voice remained: Sister Constance, trembling at her fate. But Blanche returned at the penultimate moment to join her sister in death and martyrdom, validating Constance’s prophecy that she and Blanche would die young together.
At the moment of Blanche’s end, she sounded angelic and serene, and glowed in a halo of light. Her death was without fear.
Kaitrin McCoy reports on the Chautauqua Symphony Orchestra for the Daily. She is currently studying journalism and music composition at Ohio University.
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