Torments and delights for the heart {Discover}

What better way to come back to the hectic urban life announcing Fall than to sit at the opera and reconnect with music and lyrics at their best?

Do not get me wrong: I am no opera connoisseur, but I can sing a few airs with naive delight and with my dad's leading voice ringing in my head, he who has always loved the opera.

Here we are, on a date night with hubby, at the modern Opera Bastille in Paris to enjoy the latest version of Verdi's La Traviata - and what's probably one of his most famous operas. The introduction and its delicate first keys softly puts a smile on my face: how many times have I heard dad hum it? How many times have I played the CD my brother offered me many Christmases ago?

Act I is quite unsettling and somewhat representative of my overall impression: it is supposed to stage a party with courtesan Violetta, but it looks rather gloomy since all the participants are dressed in black and stand still  in the background. Are they here to embody the stiff rules of the bourgeois and the upcoming drama with Violetta's sacrifice and death? The choices made by French film-maker Benoît Jacquot are surprising, if not my favorite since they seem to take away the initial liveliness of the opera.

The lead singer playing Violetta Valéry, Ermonela Jaho, is the actual drama for me: I do not manage to understand a single word she sings and need to resort to the translation appearing on the screen above the stage. Her beautiful voice is impalpable despite her impeccable technique; it lacks intensity and makes her presence on stage somewhat subdued.

Frustration starts creeping in.

It settles definitely in when Violetta's array of expressions and emotions seems to be pretty limited: where is the passion, intimacy, love...? The father of her beloved, Alfredo Germont, Germont père (Dmitri Hvorostovsky), crushes her in their fascinating and cruel exchange: he suddenly adds a deep presence bringing just as cruelly her airy frailty to the foreground.

I do enjoy a touch of humor in classic operas (remember the Barbiere di Siviglia?) and have to say that this Traviata managed to become inspirational with the whimsical and playful scene of the gipsy dance at Flora's grand party: the bearded ladies were an unexpected nod to the Spanish Eurovision winner, Conchita Wurst. Why not?

However, it is also my belief that you can allow yourself this kind of crative digressions only if/once you've mastered the key points perfectly, leading role included.

I have left the opera house with a sour-sweet taste in my mouth and the certainty that this version brings both "torments and delights for the heart".

Have you seen this opera? Do you think I am being too harsh?

Credits: TheDaydreamer