Gounod’s Faust debuted fairly successfully at Paris’s Théâtre Lyrique (the home of so-called “opéras comiques,” musical theater works with spoken dialogue) in 1859. The following year his publisher Choudens arranged for productions in Strasbourg, Rouen, and Bordeaux; to that end he persuaded the composer to turn the dialogue into musical recitative, making Faust a full opera. In that form, it quickly became a success in Germany and England, as well as at the Opéra in Paris (first in 1869). By 1883, it was so popular that it was chosen to be the very first production of the new Metropolitan Opera in New York. For decades it was performed there annually without fail, to the degree that some wit made a punning reference to Wagner’s Festspielhaus (“Festival Playhouse”) in Bayreuth by calling the Met the Faustspielhaus (“Playhouse for Faust”). That popularity faded to a degree during the 20th century, though a substantial number of recordings with distinguished singers and conductors continued to be made occasionally.
The reasons for that long-lasting popularity are readily evident in the current production of the Berkshire Opera Festival at the Mahaiwe Theater in Great Barrington, Massachusetts. Dramatic situations acted by a cast of excellent young singers, mounted with flair, imaginatively using the space on a stage of modest size, with lighting effects and the use of a single major structure – an elevated platform with a staircase on one side that could be moved in different directions for different purposes. In that way, with the addition of certain moments played before the curtain for interior intimacy, the stage became the town, the area of Marguerite’s house, the cathedral, the dungeon, and the scaffold.
As is common in operatic performances, the success of a production substantially rises or falls in the quality of the singing. Here the Berksire Opera Festival has provided a splendid cast. Any version of Faust makes the Devil the most captivating character. In this case, Justin Hopkins made a splendid impression, both in the rich color of his bass-baritone voice and the range and subtlety of his acting—sardonic, laughing, reacting quickly to any necessity. His entrance (“I’m here”) when Faust summons him is instantly striking, and he himself was imposing in rich Renaissance garments. In this production, he is accompanied by two mute dances (Katie Harding and Vincent Brewer) who serve athletically as little devils—not original characters in the opera, but exceptionally effective in seconding the plans of Mephistopheles to win Faust’s soul.
Faust himself, Duke Kim, begins as a creaky old man with creaky voice (he is, after all, in roughly his 80s), but when he becomes rejuvenated as a handsome young man searching sensual satisfaction (a French conception, rather than Goethe’s hero who yearns for higher experiences)k his soaring tenor appears, especially in his ardent yearning for Marguerite, and his despair at losing her after brief success.
Raquel Gonzáles beautifully realized Marguerite, beginning as a shy maiden unwilling to allow Faust to approach her, but developing in vocal brilliance when she discovers the chest of jewels that Mephistopheles has produced to aid Faust in his successful seduction. But after her lover has left her with an infant, whom she murders in her mad recoil, her voice grows richer and more powerful when she prays in the church (though Mephistopheles condemns her) and in the final scene when she receives salvation.
Her brother Valentin (Jarrett Porter), the soldier, makes a fine impression in his much-loved aria of farewell to Marguerite (“Avant de quitter ce lieu”—“Before leaving this place”), which Gounod composed for an English baritone in London, several years after the original Paris production. He is stalwart, a little hasty in his reactions. After returning from war with his comrades, he charges Faust with ruining his sister, and dies bravely in single combat.
The “pants part” of Siébel, a young man in love with Marguerite, is not a large one. It has one essential aria expressing his/her position as a suitor to the innocent girl, though the character cannot beat Faust as his rival. Mezzo-soprano Sun-Ly Pierce sang the aria superbly and played well the role of the eager youth in love.
Tenor Kyle Dunn and mezzo Abbegael Greenne carried their smaller roles as Wagner, a student, and Marthe, Marguerite’s neighbor, whom Mephistopheles flirts with to get her out of the way of the young lovers (one of the few humorous moments in the opera) very well.
On the small stage, the modest size chorus sang well in its special numbers, especially the famous march that returns the soldiers from war and the celestial praise celebrating Marguerite’s salvation.
The stage direction by Jonathan Loy included some unusual features. I’ve already mentioned the two dancers who add energy to Mephistopheles’s manipulations. One of the biggest surprises was the return of the soldiers from war, accompanied by a famous march. In traditional operatic productions, choruses of soldiers always return in clean uniforms showing military spit and polish. But we have seen many soldiers coming back from combat. Those here resemble more familiar soldiers of our time—exhausted, wounded and bandaged, and led by Mephistopheles as a general in a crimson uniform, as if these men have been in the hell of war and are now going to end in hell themselves. The choreography by Andrea Beasom had to be rather simple largely because of the stage size, but it succeeded in creating the spring mood of the public scene in the village. Costumes by Brooke Stanton, lighting design by Alex Jainchill, and hair and make-up by Beckie Kravetz all suitably enhanced the Renaissance setting.
Brian Garman conducted the orchestra of 32 players (strings 4-3-4-3-2) all seated in front of the stage at floor level (no pit). They played very well, but the sound was definitely more present than for an opera orchestra in a conventional opera theater, where the pit places the orchestra six or more feet below the level of the audience. Garman gave the singers expressive scope, and clarity and energy prevailed throughout, projecting Gounod’s wealth of much-loved musical ideas; the audience reacted with enthusiastic and sustained applause.
The run continues tonight and Friday.
Steven Ledbetter is a freelance writer and lecturer on music. He got his BA from Pomona College and PhD from NYU in Musicology. He taught at Dartmouth College in the 1970s, then became program annotator at the Boston Symphony Orchestra from 1979 to 1997.
