An Offbeat but Persuasive The Tales of Hoffmann at the Royal Ballet and Opera, Covent Garden (Column)

© Camilla Greenwell

Jacques Offenbach’s The Tales of Hoffmann is based on three short stories by E. T. A. Hoffmann, with the French libretto having been written by Jules Barbier. It premiered at the Théâtre National de l’Opéra-Comique in Paris on 10 February 1881, but Offenbach never got to see it having died four months earlier. It had, however, been presented in an abridged form at the composer’s house, 8 Boulevard des Capucines, on 18 May 1879, and a version that included a scene not shown in Paris was subsequently staged at Vienna’s Ringtheater on 7 December 1881.

The opera takes three stories by Hoffmann – ‘Der Sandmann’ (The Sandman) of 1816, ‘Rath Krespel’ (Councillor Krespel) of 1818 and ‘Das verlorene Spiegelbild’ (The Lost Reflection) from Die Abenteuer der Sylvester-Nacht (The Adventures of New Year’s Eve) of 1814 – and links these together by making Hoffmann the protagonist.

The story begins in a tavern in Nuremberg with Hoffmann thinking of the prima donna Stella. She has sent a letter asking him to meet her, but this has been intercepted by the evil Councillor Lindorf who plans to take his place. The Muse in the meantime wishes to see Hoffmann adjure all other loves and become totally devoted to her (in other words, poetry), and so takes the appearance of his closest friend Nicklausse. All this occurs in the Prologue and the three Acts that follow recall in turn the great loves of Hoffmann’s life.

These are Olympia, who Hoffmann does not realise is an automaton, Antonia, a musician who unfortunately will die if she exerts herself, and the courtesan Giulietta. In each instance he loses his love as Olympia is destroyed as a doll can be, Antonia dies after singing too much, and Giulietta abandons Hoffmann after nearly stealing his soul. Every death (or in Giulietta’s case damnation) is instigated in one way or another by Lindorf, who appears as a different character in each story. The three women in turn are all facets of Stella, representing the young girl’s, the musician’s and the courtesan’s side of the prima donna. In the Epilogue, Stella arrives to find Hoffmann, having just recalled these instances, insensible, and Lindorf takes the opportunity to step in and ensure that she walks away with him. At this, Nicklausse reveals himself as the Muse and offers Hoffmann the opportunity to be reborn in poetry.

Damiano Michieletto’s new staging for the Royal Ballet and Opera, which represents a co-production with Opera Australia, Opéra National de Lyon and Fondazione Teatro La Fenice di Venezia, is quite unorthodox but highly effective. Many ideas are thrown into it, but the fact that the opera itself contains a number of disparate elements means that it can cope with them all. The result is a staging that feels both thoughtful and dynamic as it leans towards the fantastical side of the story without entirely ignoring its humanity. Paolo Fantin’s sets all feature two diagonal walls that meet at a right-angle at the back of the stage. While these are green for the tavern scenes, with Alessandro Carletti’s lighting designs ensuring everyone’s shadows are cast large upon them, the areas become more complex for the three Acts that focus on Hoffmann’s loves. Walls lift to reveal, in Olympia’s Act, a classroom behind, while figures grace the openings that appear high up them.

The attention to detail is strong so that in several Acts the hands on a clock turn in real time as the scene progresses, while other features also catch the eye. In Olympia’s Act a map on the wall puts the Americas, rather than Europe, at the centre, thus challenging Hoffmann’s egocentric view of the world. In Antonia’s Act a cello hangs in front of a pink background recalling the paintings of Michael Craig-Martin.

Hoffmann is brilliantly sung by Juan Diego Flórez (Leonardo Caimi assumes the role on 15, 18 and 21 November) as his smooth, expansive and ringing tenor captures all of the character’s passion and anguish. He is portrayed as an old man, with long grey hair, who goes back to different times in his life as he encounters each of his three loves. In this way, between the Prologue and Olympia’s Act he transforms into a youth in shorts, in the same way as he might have done if he had made a Faustian pact with the devil.

In most productions the same person plays the Muse and Nicklausse after the former has taken on the appearance of the latter. Here, the role is split between Christine Rice and Julie Boulianne respectively. Dressed all in green, Rice’s Muse becomes something of a fairy godmother figure who sprinkles glitter to ‘conjure up’ each of the three Acts, and puts a satchel on Hoffmann’s back as if sending him back to school for Olympia’s Act. Both Rice’s mezzo-soprano and overall presence prove to be commanding, and she also sings the offstage role of Antonia’s Mother. Nicklausse is portrayed as a parrot, with a model of one standing in various positions. Meanwhile Boulianne, with her rich and nuanced mezzo-soprano, moves about in a costume, courtesy of Carla Teti, that suggests the bird through its wings and colours. This makes Nicklausse a more fantastical figure than usual, and does affect the nature of his interactions with Hoffmann as there is less sense of them conversing ‘man to man’.

Nevertheless, it is not ridiculous to think that such a unique character as Hoffmann might have a parrot as a best friend. Parrots do not have thoughts of their own, but merely imitate those they hear, and this could be making a point in its own right. Hoffmann may simply be having a conversation with himself, so that everything that Nicklausse says or does represents the poetic side of Hoffmann as he guides himself towards reaching his highest ideal.

Throughout there are some excellent dance routines, choreographed by Chiara Vecchi, that ensure the entire evening possesses a welcome level of dynamism and exuberance. Occasionally, the routines take too much focus away from what is important. For example, during ‘Il était une fois à la cour d’Eisenach’ the dancing of rats who are then led away by a figure on stilts like the Pied Piper of Hamelin detracts from Hoffmann’s own relating of the legend of Kleinzach. By and large, however, the balance is got right, and particularly so in Antonia’s Act. Here the servant Frantz (a splendid Christophe Mortagne) sings ‘Jour et nuit je me mets en quatre’ while giving a lesson to some young dancers, all of whom are superb. After this, Hoffmann’s interaction with Antonia is allowed to proceed free from excessive distractions before the Act’s powerful ‘climax’ achieves the right balance between singing and dancing as a Young Antonia and her Mother are portrayed visually by ballerinas. When during the Epilogue figures from the previous three Acts appear, we really feel that no experience Hoffmann has had, irrespective of how painful each may have been, has been wasted in seeing him arrive at the person he is now.

The musical credentials are strong all round as conductor Antonello Manacorda elicits playing from the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House that is as consistently tight as it is undoubtedly textured. Alex Esposito is brilliant as Lindorf as his firm and assertive bass-baritone perfectly supports the malevolent persona that he projects so tangibly in the guises of Coppélius, Dr Miracle and Dappertutto. Hoffmann’s three loves are also exceptionally accomplished with Ermonela Jaho’s radiant soprano as Antonia, Marina Costa-Jackson’s sumptuous sound as Giulietta and Olga Pudova’s mechanical movements as Olympia all proving superlative. The most remarkable thing about Pudova’s performance, however, is the fact that she could not deliver ‘Les oiseaux dans la charmille’ any more impeccably from a musical perspective, and yet she still gives the impression that these are exactly the type of notes that a pre-programmed automaton might deliver. It really is a performance for the ages.

This production will be broadcast to selected cinemas around the world on 15 January 2025, with some venues also showing encore screenings on subsequent days.

By Sam Smith

The Tales of Hoffmann | 7 November - 1 December 2024 | Royal Ballet and Opera, Covent Garden

the 12 of November, 2024 | Print