Modern Love - Verdi’s La Traviata from Wiener Staatsoper
A guest commentary on the livestream performance of March 7, 2021, starring Pretty Yende and Juan Diego Flórez. Written by Yutong Yang.
My middle school music teacher had an eclectic taste in music. She introduced me to Violetta Valéry, arguably the most admired courtesan in literary and operatic history, in the form of the glamorous Angela Gheorghiu. I witnessed her metamorphosis with awe: one moment she was a lithe nymph in that floral white gown a girl dreams of getting married in; the very next minute, she has turned into a dignified black swan, too pale for her own good. By the end of that Covent Garden production, her slender silhouette had been firmly sealed into my mind: a sad flower, glimmering until her violent end.
As a Gen Z kid who grew up with hip-hop and electronica, my stereotypes for opera were shattered by that performance of La Traviata. I learned how an ancient art form could be capable of so much vitality and dramatic tension; I have been an aficionado ever since. Still, I was quite taken aback when I saw the posters for this co-production from Wiener Staatsoper and Opéra national de Paris: a modernization starring two of my favorite artists? There was no way I would miss it.
The great tenore di grazia Juan Diego Flórez played Violetta’s significant other, Alfredo. I had enjoyed his recital in my hometown before COVID-19. Obviously, he was able to summon irresistible passion singing in front of an empty house as well as a full one. Playing opposite the “crowd favorite” Mr. Flórez, was soprano Pretty Yende. She debuted the role in the 2019-20 Season at Opéra national de Paris. On both occasions, she was steady in her lower and middle registers, with the true splendor and technique heard in such passages as “Sempre Libera.” Ms. Yende has been praised by the Washington Post for “[a] voice that can reach to the stars.” Her speed and grace have often been compared to Dame Joan Sutherland.
As the Chinese saying goes, “the insider knows the ropes, while the outsider just comes along for the ride.” Best has to meet best to make the ride exciting. The Australian director Simon Stone is stunning in his audacity. A veteran of the Salzburg Festival, he is known for his imaginative modernizations of classics. In 2019, he met criticism on all sides for his adaption of Cherubini’s Médée. More callous remarks dismissed his production a mere “excess,” a “hyper realistic” attempt to cram a bustling international airport down a little stage. Stone’s ambitious rendition overflowed with information, a banquet with too many dishes for us poor audience to know where to start.
For this La Traviata production, Stone has taken a much more simplistic approach—that is, compared to his prior works. He made good use of the popular revolving stage, ensuring smooth and speedy transitions from scene to scene. Before the show, we see two sides of a white box in the background, where Violetta’s heavily painted eyelids are projected. Those two eyes snap open at the very first note of the overture, and we are surprised to see them sparkling with tears. The scenery soon switches to perfume ads featuring our stunning heroine, and we are relieved to see more familiar elements, such as Instagram, Facebook, thirsty traps, and clicking on likes. In much of what follows, Stone project social media activities and conversations of the characters onto the white box. Sometimes, Stone even employs his beloved cartoon outfits to sprinkle some jest into the tragedy. The production has many effects, yet they seldom escalate into a mess.
Revolutionary productions never fail to spark controversy. Innovation in the eyes of some becomes parodies for others, hoaxes to seduce an indifferent audience to the box office. But if we trace the performance history of La Traviata, we learn how Verdi had wanted to set the opera in his own era. However, his contemporaries were not used to seeing likenesses of themselves on stage. Seen from another angle, Stone is simply fulfilling Verdi’s overdue wish.
In previous interviews, Stone has dismissed “dichotomies and categories” as “completely irrelevant.” Instead, he is fueled by an urge to communicate with audience members, to reinvent classics and give them a totally different meaning from what has been widely accepted as the norm. When rewriting Médée, he fused the legendary figure with a real-life, modern woman to produce a brand new character. From the perspective of intertextuality, the reason why such mythical characters remain intriguing and relatable is because of their function as tropes that foster understanding. Even in today’s world, there are myriads like Violetta and Médée, with similar sufferings and personalities. However, if we only stick to the original, these characters could eventually become static and boring. Therefore, I believe Stone is injecting new blood into the veins of tired old characters.
But back to this production of La Traviata—Violetta’s attire and manners remind one of the likes of Kim Kardashian. While the original story voices the truth that courtesans cannot afford to love, this reinvention reflects on the life of some social media influencers: bursting at the seems from the outside, unfulfilling and empty on the inside. Both versions comment on the fleeting quality of youth and beauty. However, while the ambiguous social status of the original heroine helps us understand her helplessness, the concession of this assertive, independent woman leaves us wondering: she has the money and fame to sway the balance to her side; why would she begrudge herself and her lover happiness for the name of Alfredo’s sister? The only plausible explanation, then, is that she considers her dying self unworthy of true love, and would rather give up now than confront potential heartbreak in the future.
Several paradoxes stood out to me throughout the performance: Violetta expertly lighting a cigarette while bemoaning her paleness; Violetta yearning for love and understanding, a lost little girl standing under her own gigantic ad; in the middle of the night, there are pedestrians drinking or making out under the same sky, while she feels the bittersweet raptures of love . . .
The life of the socialite may indeed be far from us, yet we can all empathize with the anxiety that permeates modern cosmopolitan life, evident in the eyes of our beloved characters. These moments of revelation forever draw us to the theater, and connect the stage and the stalls once we arrive. In this age of exploding information, we are examined while we probe into the life of others on social media. Nowhere to hide. The couple exchange vows of love, only to lose themselves together in this city of mirage, a whirlwind of glitter. As the party nears its end, the ones who are holding the bright balloons are the ladies way past they heyday. Time has carved deep marks on their faces. They have had their share of the fun, but as they near the end of their life, they become childlike again. We all started off carefree, playing in this vast amusement park called life. But in the end, where do our smarts lead us? We go back to our feeble, humble beginnings. Full circle.
The first time Mr. Flórez challenged himself with the role of Alfredo was at the Metropolitan Opera House, in the 2018—19 Season. With Tony Award winner Michael Mayer directing, and Yannick Nézet-Séguin serving for the first time as Met Music Director, there was a lot of discussion going on, and the two stars, Flórez and soprano Diana Damrau were relatively left alone. Before his La Traviata début, the last appearance of Mr. Flórez at the Met was in La Donna del Lago, Rossini’s bel canto masterpiece. From then on, he has been venturing into the deep end, trying out “heavier” works, such as French operas. These efforts have received mixed reviews from opera critics and audience alike: supporters praise him for challenging himself and updating his repertoire as his musicianship matures, while opponents question his capability to negotiate the lower and middle registers of more difficult passages. Most would agree that his use of the legato and the mezza voce is as brilliant as ever, but he may still have some distance to cover before he could meet the dramatic and timbral demands of certain arias. As for theatrical portrayal, Mr. Flórez has never been lacking in his elegance of demeanor or passion of temperament.
Live streams such as this one from the world’s leading opera houses are spoiling us audience for choices when it comes to enjoying a great performance in the ease and comfort of our homes. However advanced the technologies, these videos can hardly compare to the thrill of a night out at the opera. As we hope for the best, we can always re-watch these wonderful videos to savor the artistic brilliance and celebrate our human connection.
About the Author: Yutong Yang is a Chinese high school junior with a great passion for opera and music in general. Having begun studying music in early childhood, she is learning classical voice under a professor from the Central Academy of Drama, while pursuing her high school career. She is most excited about the intersections between music, the humanities, and the social sciences. She currently works as spokesperson for one of China’s most internationally renowned countertenors, and has guest-written for the biggest classical music blog in China, enjoyGUDIAN, on three occasions, sharing different lenses to analyze and enjoy La Traviata.