
Act 2 of Tosca is an
Everest of musical theater. Adolfo Hohenstein’s 1899 poster (above) expresses it
exactly: melodrama at its most outrageous and harrowing with love, injustice, and
oppression leading to rebellion and revenge. The scene combines showstopping
tunes (“Vissi d’arte”), a personification of totalitarianism worthy of Kafka
and Orwell (Baron Scarpia), a sympathetic personification of a wronged and
enraged Everywoman (Tosca), all accompanied by her lover’s cries from the
interrogation chamber. It remains topical, unfortunately for us.
Unfortunately John
Caird’s production sleepwalked through all this, omitting everything except the
showstopping tunes. You can coast pretty far on the music—and the orchestra
under Plácido Domingo resonated richly—but the voices of the principals were
loud rather than lovely. And Caird apparently neglected to inform the
principals that they were undertaking a theatrical presentation. Their gestures
and actions were uniformly awkward and unmeaning. It was a trip back to
the bad old days.
With opera productions
the problem often stems from misguided creativity: a directorial concept
(Flying Dutchman as Dr. Who), or visual design (fishpond in Tatyana’s bedroom).
This Tosca, however, had no ideas
whatsoever. The director let the performers flop about on stage at random, and
Bunny Christie’s sets and costumes were flat and unattractive without being
very functional. It was bad, but Dorothy Chandler was packed, and the audience
loudly applauded and cheered throughout. Better luck next season.